Comic Strip of the Day

CSotD: Monty lets the old Earth make a couple of whirls

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Mike Peterson Published: November 19, 2010 1 minute 1 comment

Poor Monty has been recovering from a broken heart for the past week or so, and the only positive note is that, in this case, as he's expressing his sorrow, you are not only allowed, but encouraged, to laugh in his face.

Apparently, you're not supposed to do that in real life. Or so I've been told. But I've been laughing over Monty's broken heart quite riotously. I don't think he minds, because he's not just a schmoe. He's also a schmoo.

The timing on this is quite good, as I've also been laughing over this latest bit of public service from  the Jersey Shore in the last 24 hours, though not in such a kindly tone. More of a guffaw.

My only trip to the Jersey Shore (excluding Atlantic City itself, which doesn't count) was for a conference that was held in Wildwood in a motel on the beach that featured nice kitchenettes and a large dining room that we used for our sessions. I took long walks on the beach each morning and evening and quite enjoyed it, but I'm not sure I got the full flavor of the place, since it was in March or early April.

Everything was boarded up and there were no people there and I kept thinking that the place was probably a lot more fun in the summer, a notion that MTV's reality show has thoroughly put out of my mind.

I kind of wonder about the impact of that show on tourism, but then I've given up trying to figure out New Jersey's attitude towards image. I guess all the "Which exit?" jokes have made them prefer to be thought of as the home of Tony Soprano.

Meanwhile, I do have some sympathy for poor Monty. Wait a minute. Okay, I think I can say it with a straight face this time. I do have some … oh, never mind.

Here's a tune that, yes, I know was also recorded by a famous New Jersey resident and if I meant Bruce then I might use his version, but I don't and the song really belongs to this son of Brooklyn anyway. It is a song for old rumpled men in old rumpled clothes with a small, precious store of unrumpled memories.