Chubby Balls

I found this drawing, an idea for a greeting card, on an old Zip disk from seven or eight years ago. It was around this time, while in Design school, that Jim and I decided we wanted to go into business designing, manufacturing and selling our own line of cards. Off and on for a few years, we would print these off and give them to friends and family on appropriate occasions. We decided to call the company Chubby Balls Cards. The name was clever and to-the-point. When Lisa caught wind of this, she put her foot down, exclaiming that "the day's going to come where our child asks me what Daddy does for a living and I'm not going to tell him he works at a place called 'Chubby Balls.'" The name was quickly abandoned and, in due time, so was our dream of a card company. It just wasn't the same without that name. And Lisa had a point. Is Target really going to want to carry a product called "Chubby Balls?" A website? Perhaps. But upon Googling the words "chubby+balls," we were met with hundreds of pages of fetish and snake oil sites.

I never liked this particular drawing, but couldn't understand why, as I've always found eskimos being sent into people's bodies to remove gall bladders as quite amusing. In retrospect, and with my years of art training, I found that it's the presence of the two surgeons that I always found bothersome. Today, it's quite obvious to me how out-of-place they look in a one-point-perspective. When I found the image tonight, I considered cropping the doctors out, but ultimately decided that their presence only adds to the overall theme of the picture. Without them, the irony is lost, so I kept them in. Perhaps one day Chubby Balls will be reborn and I'll have a reason to redraw the two doctors. But for now, I'll just have to not look at it.