CSotD: Laughter in the Reign
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Having deleted several cartoons, both strips and political, that referred to Dear Leader’s now-moribund slush fund, it was a surprise to find a case of coincidental timing that did apply to something in the news.
Not that it’s all that encouraging, but these days you have to take whatever you can get.
Enough politics: It’s Humpday. Onward.
Still on the topic of dumb, another example of how a good ensemble cast allows a cartoonist to deal with many subjects. Brewster is just the right person for this gag, and given the issues we’re seeing with AI chatbots, it’s a more important topic than just a pie-in-the-face doofus gag.
The current WtB story arc is bringing back a very nice memory. Eldest son was assigned to interview a family member and chose his maternal grandfather. This was post-divorce, when we were living on the East Coast and Grandpa was in Colorado, so it involved a long, taped phone call, during which he learned a lot about his grandfather and I learned a lot about my former father-in-law.
You have to be careful in how you phrase the assignment, since not every kid has actual blood-relatives available, but this is an excellent way to teach interviewing and writing, and to help bond kids with the people in their lives.
Plus the more I see of Wallace’s folks, the more I like them.
I refer to mine as “Who’s Dead? Magazine” because I’m so alienated from my alma mater that I skip all the self-congratulatory puff-pieces and flip to the back to the deaths list. Being 55 years out, there’s usually a familiar name in there, which is more than I’m likely to find in the class notes.
Our class secretary writes about the same dozen guys each issue, and I assume they were his pals back then, because I don’t remember any of them.
I quit donating to the school when it went semi-MAGA some 30 years ago, but despite having moved half a dozen times since, I still get the magazine. The FBI wasn’t nearly as good at keeping tabs on us back in the day as the alumni association is now.
Juxtaposition of the Day
I don’t mind folks with Substacks and Patreons trying to make a living, but thank goodness for those who let you have at least a free taste, because even at minimal rates, the subscriptions pile up, and there’s no way I could support all the people whose work I appreciate, though I do pay for as many as I can afford.
Most seem to accept that, though they do remind you each time. Fair enough. But one of them has been sending separate requests, and wouldn’t you know he’s the one who let slip that he’s got 90,000 paying subscribers. Not the best marketing strategy.
Speaking of the rising cost of accessing stuff, here’s a meme I created some time ago and that still applies:
There’s a social issue I can relate to. I’m not a big fan of tipping counter help, but they’re being ripped off by getting only tipped wages, so there’s justification in having tip jars.
However, as Bravo suggests, I want some credit for it beyond good karma.
Someone posted on social media a sign from a restaurant that solicited 20% tips on meals, which I’d normally give anyway. The sign, however, said if you couldn’t afford that, maybe you shouldn’t be eating in restaurants.
Several comments suggested that if you couldn’t afford to pay your staff adequately, maybe you shouldn’t be running a restaurant.
Readers outside the US are scratching their heads over this, because service charges are automatic in civilized countries. But for sit-down service, not grab-and-go.
I’m still not clear on why I would want to order for coffee or a sub on an app, though, of course, I phone in pizza and Chinese orders, which take more time to make. And I’m hip to the fact that, if you go through the drive-thru, you can just tell them what you want, but if you step inside, places want you to order through the kiosk, because they don’t have to pay the kiosk.
I suspect that the ultimate master plan is to pay nobody and just lay out the ingredients so you can make it yourself.
Juxtaposition of Changing Times
Not sure how old Siegel is, but Shelton bases a lot of his strip on senior humor, though Ben apparently hasn’t reached my age, where looking at young girls stirs more nostalgia than hormones.
I’ve had sideburns and mustaches and beards, and I’ve known women who never shaved above the knee until summer, plus some who never did even then.
But judging from what little I know of current youth, I guess Siegel’s vision of women being repelled by mustaches is evidence of that generation’s odd disdain for body hair.
We’ve sure come a long way since “Here, baby, there, mama, Everywhere, daddy, daddy.”
I can’t be the only person who found combining the strange term “whisky drink” and a whisk clumsy, but I might be the only person for whom it sparked an old memory.
When I was underage even in the days of an 18 drinking age, we all hung out in a bar that was strictly old school: Pool table, bowling machine, pictures of deer on the walls and all. The proprietor, Gert, was also old school — a tough but tender-hearted old broad who was very much in charge despite her advanced years.
We loved Gert, if for no other reason than that she kept the place open at Christmas because she knew a lot of young folks came home then and wanted to see each other.
But most of us switched to beer towards the end of things, because somebody gave Gert a blender, whereupon whatever “whisky drink” you ordered — Seven-and-seven, Bells-and-ginger, whatever — became a whisky sour and, whether the cherry was on a plastic sword or held by a plastic mermaid, the drink itself was mostly whipped foam.
Nobody minded. I mean, it was Gert. ‘Nuff said.
Kid, you have no idea. Crank this up:
Mike Peterson has posted his "Comic Strip of the Day" column every day since 2010. His opinions are his own, but we welcome comments either agreeing or in opposition.
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