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Homer's Home
Homer Simpson is a man of simple pleasures - all of which he can easily find in his hometown of Springfield.


Homer Simpson, holding a mug of Duff beer in one hand and a jelly donut in the other, sits in a dark corner of the bar between two unattractive men who seem to be waiting for him to say something. But he says nothing. Inside Moe's Tavern, a landmark dive in the town of Springfield, he is staring through the smoke and semidarkness at a jar of pickled eggs that appears to be so old the bar may have been built around it. The two men with him, Lenny and Carl, know that it can be pointless to force conversation upon Homer when he is in this nearly catatonic state, a tiny glint of drool hanging from the corner of his mouth. But I do not. I'm a newcomer to Springfield and to Moe's, and I have come here hoping to speak with Homer, a man who has dominated this town's headlines ever since his birth was greeted in the Springfield Shopper with the front-page proclamation: "Unusually Large, Ugly Baby Born."

Homer Simpson has made even more news since then, for he has been involved with many things involving many people here in Springfield - his own snowplow business, his successful recording career, his work on behalf of the local church as a missionary in the South Pacific, his stint as Springfield's chief of police, his role as curator of the now-defunct Museum of Hollywood Jerks. And that's just the beginning. Homer Simpson has been a blackjack dealer, a pin monkey at the bowling alley, a baseball mascot, and a film producer. He's also faced off against the heavyweight champion of the world, stopped a stampeding elephant, and both averted and nearly caused a meltdown at the nuclear power plant where he works when he's not engaged in some entrepreneurial endeavor. Indeed, it seems that Homer is a man who can do anything he wants. Anything.