Dealing with a nightmare situation resulting from having the deck demolished, in preparation for replacement. The work is now on hold, pending review by the town’s building inspector. When can he get here? No idea. I’ll try to cheer myself up by looking at this delightful Jack Davis illustration.
Follow-up: After crawling around in a small and very dirty space, all is well once again. The inspector is still required, but for a routine reason.
A couple of you know who Herblock was. If you don’t, here’s who he was. The preview picture is extremely misleading.
The epidemiologists were right about Delta-Covid creating another pandemic wave. Incredibly, the Trumpy simpletons continue to insist they know more than communicable disease experts, and that masks are completely useless. Some masks are, sure, because they’re just a piece of cloth, or proper masks that have been overused. What’s really concerning for public health are the anti-maskers who are also anti-vaxx.
I like this clever faux Winsor McCay cartoon by Peter Kuper in The New Yorker, from early in the pandemic, April ’20.
I’m going to assume Kuper worked from an actual McCay cartoon. For reference here’s a Little Sammy Sneeze.
Here’s another McCay creation, Dream of the Rarebit Fiend, featuring an early appearance of Gertie the Dinosaur. Gertie appeared the following year in an animated cartoon by the prolific McCay.
In Sunday’s Hi & Lois, Chip warns his dad against becoming involved with an old flame. Can Chip can be counted on to tell his mom, or will he blackmail his father, leading to him having another fling with Becky?
“The Internet really has sped things up. It takes only a minute for me to sort the two Sunday papers I get, and not much longer than that to read the tiny comics sections.” Hmm… that’s 170 characters. Ten too many? I’d better trim it down.
“The Internet has sped things up. It takes only a minute to sort the two Sunday papers I get, and not much longer than that to read the tiny comics sections.” There, only 156 characters.
I’m not on Twitter, but I’m on Facebook, and every time I go there it asks, “What’s on your mind, Doug?” How about what was on my mind 55 years ago?
