As a kid, to combat boredom and antsiness in church, at the doctor's office or in the car, my mom would play the doodle game with me. She would start by drawing a funny shape or squiggly line and then I would have to turn that bit into picture. It was a silent challenge among us, both such hardcore doodlers that all the message-taking paper by the phone was filled with my mom's little drawings of kids' faces and calligraphied names and my school notes were barely legible around all the spirals and mystical eyes and bubble letters. Years later, when Bruce and I moved in together and had a month before the cable could be installed, we wore ourselves bored by playing gin rummy and then I introduced him to the doodle game. Some of the doodles were silly, some commentary on our day, some even got a bit dirty. It was all in good fun. And it got us through the agony of not having Sopranos just as it got me through many, many church sermons years before.
Maybe all that doodling is the only thing we have in common with the Leaders of the Free World. If so, it is enough. Presidential Doodles, a new book with accompanying website, is a compilation of the little pieces of artistry (and maybe even boredom busting?) starting with the first George W. that have been added to scraps straight out of the American archives. Their doodles are strangely, surprisingly fascinating.
Doodles? Really? Yes, really. Take a look and then formulate a psychological evaluation for what was really going on in the mind of the man in the Oval Office, or maybe just make a connection to a fellow ship scribbler. And while you're stopping by the Presidential notebad, be sure to read the epilogue, which contain the editors' notes on how they acquired the doddles, what paperwork reveals about each prez, all outlining a bit of very interesting history for you and your wiggly kids.
