CSotD: Taking it personally
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So, as long as we're on the topic of peeking behind the curtain to see the stories behind the comics, here are a couple of other examples.
Sherman's Lagoon is one of my favorites because of Jim Toomey's deft use of timing and character to create riffs that remind me of the Bob Newhart Show (the real one, of course).
But it's always been nice to know that Toomey's jokes often center on actual issues in our oceans. Now, as we speak, he is on a submarine exploring the depths into which Sherman and gang have gone in the strip. Michael Cavna has the story here, whence I filched the photo.
I like the strip anyway, but I also feel good about Toomey's approach, which makes me like it even more.
It's like the coffee I buy: It's really good coffee at a reasonable price, but it's also from a really good operation that treats the growers well and uses "fair trade" as a mission and not just a mission statement.
And another parallel: Just as Dean decries phony "fair trade" claims in the coffee trade, there are phony sustainability claims made by providers of seafood.
The world is full of hype and you've got to peek behind the curtain constantly if you're trying to do right while you do well.
And speaking of unsustainable coffee
Rhymes With Orange doesn't quite address my personal gripe, but it raises the source of the issue and, while maybe this isn't an actual Rorscach Test, it reveals something I'm willing to psychotically rant about:
I get it. You can draw purty pichers on the top of the latte.
If that were some kind of rare, remarkable talent, my Facebook feed wouldn't be cluttered with photo after photo after photo of brilliant, wonderful, one-of-a-kind, can-you-believe-it latte drippings.
Never mind venti. I'd like to order basta!
There used to be a restaurant in Colorado Springs called the Hungry Farmer, which occupied a solid midpoint between comfort food and quality cooking, but was particularly known for the "high pour" in which the server would put the coffee cup on his or her foot and hold the pot up high and, by cracky, that coffee would pour right into the cup.
It looked spectacular and patrons loved it, but it was only impressive because it seemed impressive, and it only seemed impressive because nobody ever tried it at home. My little sister spoiled it for me by getting a job there and revealing that, in fact, it took about five minutes of training to master the skill.
I would suggest that latte art operates on the same principle. I would rather see photographs of the white wolves and winsome Indian princesses spray-painted on the side of your van than another overhead shot of your damned coffee.
Also as we speak
Just as Jim Toomey is descending into the depths of the Gulf while his cartoon characters do the same, and Hilary Price is probably drinking coffee while today's RWO is running in your local paper, so, too, Wiley Miller is at this moment making what he swears on a stack of Non Sequitur cartoon collections is going to be his last move.
Well, except for the one foreshadowed in today's strip.
I'm going to assume that leaving Maine will not end the appearances of Flo and Capt. Eddie (not to be confused with this pair), and also I'm hoping that we will see some funny, funny strips about real estate transactions, once the closing is over and the check has cleared.
And the process begins to seem funny to him.
Flashback
While we're on the taking-it-personally thing, today's Piranha Club gave me a flashback to my freshman year of college when I mentioned that I'd been on the wrestling team in high school.
Someone asked if I was going out for the team at Notre Dame and I said, no, I wasn't actually any good at it, but they assured me that the wrestling team wasn't any good either and, if nothing else, I could be on the freshman squad.
So I went to the first couple of practices and thank god it was only conditioning and not contact which is why I am alive to recount the story today. "Not any good" in the Land of the Golden Dome turned out to mean there were plenty of all-staters on the squad but not a sufficient number of high school All Americans and Olympic contenders.
I've mentioned before, I'm sure, that Dave Kellett and I went to the same school a decade or two apart, and I've probably run this cartoon he did for the school paper, but here it is again:
Flashback, Jr.
Today's Edison Lee also brings back personal memories of athleticism and of Colorado Springs, specifically of the day my young son — probably about six at the time — and I were walking through the park and stopped to watch a baseball practice of kids roughly his age.
The coach asked him if he'd like to take a turn at bat and Sonny Boy, who had plenty of soccer experience but had never played baseball in his life, strode to the plate and, on his second or third swing of the bat, by golly, smacked one into the hole between short and second.
And ran straight for third base.
Chip off the old block.
Finally — but I hope not quite that finally …
The Duplex today coincides with a phone call I got yesterday not from a phone solicitor but from someone at the hospital where I'm slated to have my first ever colonoscopy at the end of the month.
She wanted to update my information, which seemed an unusual request, since neither of the two other specialists I've been to in the months since health care has become affordable have needed to know anything more than I already told my primary provider and it's all the same health megaplex.
Just a couple of things, though. She confirmed my DOB and insurance company, and then wanted to know my emergency contact and if I had made out a living will.
My response was a kind of squeaky "Say what?"
Damn. Y'know, I really hadn't been all that enthusiastic about the procedure to begin with …
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