CSotD: Leftovers
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Thanksgiving was lovely, and Steve Kelley (Creators) even provided an early Christmas present for his critics, saving them from needing to make much of an effort to refute his political beliefs.
Instead, he scored an own-goal by revealing that he thinks the Von Trapp family is Jewish and must surely have fled Austria to save their own skins rather than because of a principled decision not to serve the Nazis.
Doh! Oh dear!
Meanwhile, Lar DeSouza provides a bit of authentic Norse humor for those who were paying attention, if not to the Sound of Music, at least to Sesame Street and, no doubt, to Mighty Thor rather than to more classical sources.
At this stage, I’m not sure that cute, furry little Grover doesn’t qualify as a classical source.
But then I’m old enough to remember when Mighty Thor was a lame doctor and Mjolnir was a random walking stick he found. Now, that’s classical sourcing!
I’m also old enough to be one of those people Non Sequitur (AMS) mocks for leaving his turn signal on. I would note that newer cars flash their turn signal indicator on the outside rearview mirror, which would help, because the thing doesn’t always turn itself off unless you make a 90-degree turn and people my age don’t necessarily hear the clicking it makes over the sound of traffic. Or cream. Or the stones. Or whatever we’ve got blasting.
People not using the indicator when they do turn is a bigger issue than people leaving it on and not turning, but the real hazard this time of year is the dimwits who don’t have their headlights set on automatic and go tooling down the road invisibly at dusk. Do they think they’re saving power or lightbulbs or something by manually turning their headlights on at night rather than keeping them on all the time?
Don’t ask me. I was driving through deep country last night and thinking that I kind of miss having the dimmer button on the floor. But then I’m so old I think Mary Martin was better than Julie Andrews in the Sound of Music, but that Julie Andrews was better than Audrey Hepburn in My Fair Lady.
You can’t get much older than that, though I intend to keep trying.
Which brings us to Matt’s combination tribute to the Doctor’s 60th anniversary and commentary on the state of medicine.
I remember the Daleks as something odd that popped up on Canadian TV back then, but not at a time when we were apt to be watching, so that, like the Terrible Ten, it was a little hard to figure out what was going on when we did stumble across them.
Meanwhile, on Wednesday, I got my annual eye exam and the doctor told me I should probably check in with the glaucoma specialist, but, since I hadn’t seen him in two or three years, she wasn’t sure I’d be able get an appointment and might have to find someone else, perhaps an hour away.
I intend to drive there with my turn signal on and my headlights off, just to prove I’m a deserving patient.
But I’m not in synch with Reply All (WPWG), because, while I had a lot of fun in those early years, I’d have to shed a lot of ethics and common sense to do it all over again. Remembering most of those good times now still makes me smile, but also makes me wonder what in the hell we were thinking.
The answer, of course, is that we weren’t. It reminds me of a line from a cowboy song:
When I first hired on with the old Double Diamond,
I was a damn poor excuse for a man.
Never learned how to aim when the spirit was tame
Couldn’t see all the cards in my hand.
I guess, though, that I feel sorry for anyone who didn’t take the opportunity to screw up at least a little when they still had youth as an excuse. There really is no fool like an old fool.
Juxtaposition of the Day
Brewster Rockit, Space Guy — Tribune
First Dog tackles an issue caused by the employer in Brewster Rockit.
It’s topic we’ve discussed here before, and I agree with the accusations of employer greed in both cartoons, though I’m not sure I agree down the line with First Dog. Given that babysitters, for instance, get to set their own rates, whatever that comes out to ought to be sufficient.
I mostly see the practice as making up for people who are being exploited, which makes tipping counter help feel like I’m enabling the exploiters, but, as First Dog says, there is also a danger of smugness in that.
I don’t normally carry cash, but when I went to the AAEC convention last month, I brought some for tipping, because I’ve been around the barn enough times to know that, if you don’t stick it right in their hand, they’re not always gonna see it. (But they’ll get taxed as if they did.)
Jonesy hints at the sad, sad sacrifices employers have to make. I used to hear it from bar owners when it was time to close the flowing beer taps and pay the band, but then I got regular office jobs and got to hear it from people who owned even bigger houses and nicer cars.
I remember one job where we got a new publisher who, at the punch-and-cookies party to welcome him, took me aside and told me how much my work mattered to him and how supportive he was of what I did.
At least by that point in my career, I knew what that meant. Less than six months.
I’m a little surprised that this anniversary gag comes from Kipper Williams, who is British, but I guess that shows what a universal event it was.
I, too, remember it more personally than for its wider implications, though there is this: The assassination caused Hollywood to cut back on violent TV westerns and cop shows.
It didn’t last. Today, you can blow apart a whole classroom of little children and it won’t create a pause in the entertaining bloodbaths on TV and in the movies.
That’s progress!
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