CSotD: Holiday Hijinx
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Adam Weinstein wins the Internet this week, and, anticipating tomorrow’s traditional question, what I’m thankful for is that the comic strip artists have given me a chance to forego politics for the holiday.
Well, mostly. Martyn Turner, who is in Ireland and so doesn’t have to do a cartoon about the political hazards of seating at Thanksgiving dinner, gets to make a gas-prices gag instead, as well as taking a jab at Yanks.
Win-win.
Over at Grand Avenue (AMS), Mike Thompson makes a timely Thanksgiving gag.
There aren’t many holiday strips where, if you ran into them a decade from now, it would be clear when they had been drawn, but this is one of them. I’m sure he’s right on and that there are people who miss nearly two years of never having had to spruce the place up.
Though having guests isn’t the only reason to keep things in order.
“Swedish death cleaning” is something people my age are supposed to do, which is to put your things in order just in case.
Sounds like a jinx to me: I’d get the whole place cleaned up, get rid of the junk my heirs shouldn’t have to sort through, have all my papers in order, and then live another 25 years.
Not gonna fall for that one.
Speaking of final farewells, On the Fastrack (KFS) reveals the ugly truth about those sheet-cake and punch parties in the breakroom.
Which reminds me of when, after a dozen years, I was being constructively dismissed so they could replace me with a part-timer and save the pay and benefits. The publisher who championed my work and my immediate boss had already left, and, having finally found a job somewhere other than Hell, I told the folks in my department that I was just gonna bug out and Did Not Want A Cake.
They got one anyway and I said, fine, go eat your cake, but I’m not coming. Finally, the editor who had hired me came out and asked me to come back, and I told him I wasn’t going to have that goddam new corporate-lackey publisher make some stupid speech about how much they’d miss me.
He assured me the guy was out of town, so I went back and had some cake.
BTW, if you came here directly, check out DD Degg’s report about Alden Capital bidding to take over Lee Enterprises. I’ve worked for both, and — cake or no cake — it’s good to be able to say that in the past tense.
Reminds me of a coach not known for diplomacy who was asked about his hopes for an upcoming game between two division rivals: He said he’d like to see a tie and lots of injuries.
Well, I’m not known for diplomacy, either.
Maria Scrivan’s Thanksgiving pie chart in Half Full (AMS) brings to mind the absolutely most idiotic on-line argument I’ve ever blundered into.
Michelle Obama, the not-yet-inaugurated new First Lady, was interviewed on some morning show by an African-American interviewer about holidays, and they laughed about the necessity of serving macaroni and cheese, which I already knew was a holiday staple in Black households because I had a copy of the Black Family Reunion Cookbook.
I mentioned it on line and some idiot insisted mac and cheese is not a holiday dish in Black families, and we went back and forth far too long, given that he not only felt he knew more than I did, but that he also knew more than Michelle and that host. And, no, he was not African-American.
Which made me the idiot for arguing with him.
Going to a movie (and eating Chinese) is an ethnic variation for Christmas, not Thanksgiving, but this F-Minus (AMS) is timely anyway, because Thanksgiving has football games that offer the same choices: Watching at home or watching amidst distractions far more obnoxious than anything in a theater, though, if you are ADD, even people whispering in a movie theater will jerk you out of the film.
Also, while there are certain movies that, even with the huge home screens of today, demand to be watched in a theater, the view in a football stadium is decidedly inferior to what you’d have at home.
Add a little beer down your back and Tony Carrillo has the solution for people who enjoy either experience.
The current arc in Next Door Neighbors (AMS) comes shortly after I saw those gigantic cans of turkey-cooking oil in the store and said to myself, “Are people still doing that?”
There’s a big difference between having a Fry Baby in your cupboard and storing a huge fryer that only comes out once a year and then leaves you with gallons of used oil to get rid of. Assuming you don’t just leave it out on the deck until it gets knocked over.
The hijinx continue this week, if you’d like to follow along.
Juxtaposition of the Day
Sometimes the funny stuff is also thoughtful. Popeye is in one of his long story arcs in which Swee’pea has gone back to claim his throne, but today’s (well, June 25, 1938’s) strip brings a philosophical pause while the Sailor Man notes the inevitable passage of time.
I’ve learned that most of those changes are more shattering in anticipation than when they actually come about. I’ve got a granddaughter who’s getting her learner’s permit next week, and it reminds me that, when my boys were 12, I had that “My god, in four years he’ll be driving!” feeling, but, by the time it came around, they seemed ready.
Sure enough, she’s more level-headed than I am, and, more than that, she’s level-headed enough to be trusted on the highway.
Ben provides more of a twist, and, holy cow, there’s a whole lot to ponder in that last panel.
So Happy Thanksgiving to my American readers, and I’ll be here tomorrow with some fun stuff.
Meanwhile, Mike Smith (KFS) reminds us that all the jokes about Thanksgiving table guests will be equally applicable a month from now, and then non-Yanks can join in.
Assuming they’re not at the movies or a Chinese restaurant, in which case Happy Hannukah now.
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