It is only when I am alone when the ghost of Charles Schulz howls his undead demands at me. They are usually of an impossible nature, something he refuses to acknowledge, and generally involves the death of an Editor that I have no access to. This comic is the only one that I am physically able to do for him. It is my ultimate hope that he will “pass on” when this monstrosity is finished. Nothing else seems to console this Sonoma citizen. The bastard.