Thanks to Brad Gilchrist, I now have worms. Bad. And I’ve never been more appreciative. They’re sprawled all over my drafting table in comic superhero fashion. Really.

I’m a sucker for a great super hero whether it be of the human or wriggly kind, because they remind me that we all have our own unique gifts that make us super when used for the greater good. Batman is my favorite because he was just an ordinary guy doing extraordinary things. Like Brad Gilchrist. Bradman. Brad is that kind of super hero. I was actually intimidated by Brad, as we mortals are in the presence of a real hero. After all, he has attained everything I was working so hard for: super gag-writing strength, the ability to appear in more than one newspaper at the same time, and cartoonist nirvana: SYNDICATION!

And what’s not to be intimidated by? He is a truly gifted writer with sharp comic instincts. Our phone conversations are mottled with his quick wit, outrageous word play and brilliant insight. He extracts the remarkable out of the mundane and can easily serve universal truths on a personal, emotional level. Truly, the markings of a great comic strip creator. And he can draw, too! His brush work is easily some of the best I’ve seen. It’s a rare blend of sophisticated line that forms lovable characters reminiscent of Walt Kelly. His CT Fan comic was a rare gem.

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He wrote “Nancy” — we all know that — but did you know he used to work with Jim Henson on the Muppets strip? And this at the young age of 19? He even got to slip his hand into actual Muppets, making Fozzie, Beau and Waldorf talk under his spell. I once slipped my hand into Charles Schulz’s baseball glove, but it looked stupid when I tried to make it talk.

And if that’s not enough, he is also a loving and caring husband and father. He often works late into the night to meet a deadline because he is serving his populace like a true super dad, opening his home to his kids’ friends for safe fun, helping to build a life-size mythological beast for his daughter’s school project with wings that actually work, caring for a houseful of pets and repairing anything at any time. I’ve seen it.

While Brad was visiting my home in New Mexico, I got up late one night to get a drink of water in the kitchen and caught Brad red-handed fixing my faucet by moonlight. He can’t help it. It’s in his blood.

I first heard of Brad several years ago from a mutual friend, Mark Brewer, who was raving about Brad’s new comic brainchild about a super hero worm. Mark was so thrilled to be illustrating this worm with a seasoned cartoonist like Brad he could hardly contain himself. And I was SO genuinely happy for him. Well, I was mildly amused at his good fortune.

Okay, I was envious. I mean I had been working on my own strip and was sweating over the gag writing so much I had no time to draw the danged thing. And here’s Mark simply and easily drawing his way to comic nirvana while Brad sweats out the writing part. And to top it off, he was drawing a worm! No hands to screw up — a cartoonist’s dream.

Later that year at the NCS Reuben Awards in New York City, Mark introduced me to Brad. As I shook his hand, I was thinking, “Hey, this is the worm guy.” And he really was… gentle, quiet, really down to earth. So much so that he quelled any instinctive thought I had to take on this syndicated cartoonist by introducing myself as his arch rival and vowing to use my own unique gifts for the greater bad. Yes, his super, grounding demeanor had brought me back down to earth, reducing my diabolical plot to a mere wriggling of an earthworm. Wow…He had more super power than I thought!

We hit it off immediately. We shared a passion for the environment, the Red Sox, and the aesthetic beauty and durability of ceramic tile. He was the perfect compliment to my puppy-dog-like mind. We knew that we were destined to team up on a major project together. So in March 2005, we tiled my mother-in-law’s floor together. Brad mixed the mud; I slapped the tiles in place.

Brad had flown out to New Mexico so we could bond over his brilliant comic strip idea about the worm. We bonded like a couple of kids playing in the mud. Work felt like play and it spilled over into the strip. Our fate was sealed. We became mud brothers. How I got reconnected with Brad is pure magic. I was calling him up to run an idea by him about combining the environment, baseball and ceramics into the greatest comic strip ever. (Hey, they say write what you know and draw what you love.)

What I got instead was more than I could ever imagine — a dream come true. I was offered that rare opportunity to work alongside a master of my chosen craft, and my work has grown to super-hero strength ever since.

As it turned out, Mark Brewer had decided he liked drawing hands and feet after all.

Brad asked me to collaborate with him and we are now creating the comic strip with the worm. Brad mixes, I slap them into place. I started out humbled in the presence of one who has reached nirvana not once but many times — a rare feat indeed. But instead of a sidekick, I felt like an equal Super Hero. You can’t help but be spiritually lifted in his presence. He gave me a task and like our own little Earthworm with the mask and cape, I passed with flying colors.

Thanks to Brad — my partner in grime — I now have worms. Tons of them now. For this I am grateful!

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