Author Archives: stripfix

Saturday, July 16, 2011

Lynn's Comments: The thing that brought us indoors long before morning wasn't the wildlife but the bugs. Even now, the sound of mosquitoes whining around my head at night makes me crazy. When Mom finally allowed us to camp in the living room (the basement had spiders), camping became much more enjoyable. I don't think my mother could say the same!

Friday, July 15, 2011

Lynn's Comments: This was a series I had so much fun with. Not only did I get to pretend I was a small boy with a wild imagination, I got to draw some funny images and include the dog as well. Strips like these were a pleasure to do and then seeing it on the comics page, knowing others were reading it too, was an absolute thrill.

Thursday, July 14, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Our tent was pitched just a few feet from the basement door, but still, we cringed if we heard anything suspicious or creepy or wild. I remember Mr. Arbuckle, our neighbor, coming home with a snootfull, creeping along his garden path, bumping into fences, trying not to alert his wife - who could yell like a banshee. We'd crawl far enough out of the door flap to watch him, and seeing us, he'd wave - knowing we could keep a secret. We liked him and figured he was doing stuff he had to do.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Lynn's Comments: We didn't have a bonfire in the backyard, but we did have deck chairs, flashlights and food. Dad played the guitar. He knew every camp and military ditty by heart and at this tender age, my brother and I thought he was absolutely wonderful. He was!

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Alan and I would sleep outside in the backyard every summer. We'd look forward to the adventure of being outdoors - forgetting the mosquitoes, which instantly filled the floorless space as soon as the thing was rigged. With blankets, food, transistor radio, toys and bedrolls, we more than filled the enclosure. We were lucky, as the bugs bit and we bickered, if we could last two nights.

Monday, July 11, 2011

Lynn's Comments: This was my dad, trying to assemble one of those wicked mind traps we used to buy from Woolworths - with the hope it would turn into a tent. The metal poles bent, the fabric wouldn't stretch and when you finally did get a shelter to come out of it, you were too mad to enjoy it!

Sunday, July 10, 2011

Lynn's Comments: In 1974, after my first divorce, I dated a psychiatrist. One of his standby pieces of advice was to NOT think about serious things after midnight. This, he said, was a twilight zone where emotional fatigue and the onset of dreaming make sensible, rational thought all but impossible. He said it was best not go to bed angry, but at the same time, the chances of problem solving when you're tired are slim. The "twilight zone" thing has stayed with me since then and I have given others this same advice. The problem is...your problems all seem to surface when you're relaxed, have the day's chores behind you and the kids are asleep. Sometimes you HAVE to talk things over when you and your partner are in bed, because in today's busy household there are few other opportunities! So, despite the warning from my sweet psychiatrist, I would open up after dark and talk about whatever it was that was bothering me. Fortunately the broaching of sensitive topics never resulted in late night fisticuffs. My husband, sedated by the sound of my voice, happily slept right through it!

Saturday, July 9, 2011

Lynn's Comments: I think this was one of my favourite lines. We all "game-play". At least that's what we call the back and forth tug of war that eventually establishes who we are in a relationship and where each of us stands. Although I consider myself a straight shooter, I've indulged in these wars of wit and worry, too. At 64, I'm happy now to be at an age where I can smell the manure and decide whether it's worth digging into or should be left to mellow in the grass!!

Friday, July 8, 2011

Lynn's Comments: It was scenarios like this which drove my readers crazy. I learned quickly that if you annoy folks and make them wonder what in heck was going on - they'd be sure to tune in the next day!

Thursday, July 7, 2011

Lynn's Comments: As a newly single mom, I dated men long before I was ready to enter into another relationship. Still reeling from deceit and divorce, I'd tell my suitor details of the past - things I should have kept to myself. I figure it takes about three years for the dust to settle after a marriage break up - but when you're young, insecure and lonely you just don't have time!

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Lynn's Comments: I moved Connie and Phil together and apart. Having been a single parent and knowing my brother so well, I imagined what their thoughts, conversations and mannerisms would be like. I was writing and drawing this from Northern Manitoba, and Alan lived in Southern Ontario. He would read the story six weeks after I'd submitted it - and, to his great credit, he never seriously objected to my taking such liberties with a character that everyone knew was "him"!

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Al and I tried smoking as kids. Our parents rolled their own, using a long rubber contraption that made five smokes at a time. I became pretty adept at the art. You had to pack just the right amount of tobacco into the trough, wet the paper slightly and roll the mix so that the long uncut cigarette was even and perfectly smooth. The cigs were then cut with a razor blade. It was easy to pinch an entire roll of five. All our chums were becoming smokers, but even though it was the ultimate in cool, I just didn't like the taste, the smell or the awful feeling afterwards.

Monday, July 4, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Alan was always trying to quit. This and a serious lack of funds kept him without a reliable supply of smokes. He might say I'm making this up...but I do remember him sifting through the household refuse looking for salvageable butts. This is clear in my memory because despite my objection to smoking, I truly felt sorry for him!

Sunday, July 3, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Even now I lose my temper like this, but I recognize the feeling. I holler, fume, storm about the house and ...then I need to talk to someone! I remember being in such a state when I was about 10, that I stabbed the desk in my room repeatedly with a pair of scissors. Sounds drastic, but that's what I did. We all know how it feels to be beyond angry, to have no control and to do something that is spontaneous, outrageous and really out of character. In remembering how I felt when I destroyed my desk, I tried to love my kids just a bit more, hug them just a little tighter when they were at their (and my) wits' end. This calmed us both down enough to be able to talk about what was wrong. Sometimes the most unlikely response to bad behaviour is the one that works.

Saturday, July 2, 2011

Lynn's Comments: A friend of ours played the bagpipes, and I asked if he'd show me how they worked. After dinner one evening, he and I went to the church yard to practice. After about half an hour of my trying to get the bag inflated and the chanter to play, we gave up. Next day, I was stopped by a neighbour who asked if I'd heard the "squalling in the church yard last night"! She was sure some animal had been caught and strangled and had almost called the cops.

Friday, July 1, 2011

Lynn's Comments: It was fun to connect a pet, which was not allowed to go free, to my husband at the time, who complained about the same thing! I was called a "keeper" and my lack of understanding for "pub night" (which was pretty well every night) made me both judge and jailer . Husband and dog even looked alike! Not long after the man left (for a larger bosom and fewer responsibilities) the dog went too!

Thursday, June 30, 2011

Lynn's Comments: We tried tying him up, but he howled pitifully and we didn't want to annoy the neighbours. We took him to obedience school, but he was really hard to train. Farley never seemed to get the concept of being lead by a leash and in the end... I was at the end of my rope.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Washing a large hairy animal is a challenge - even out of doors. I had tiled the bathroom floor, the bathtub was one of those old, deep ones and we had plenty of towels. I would wait until I had the time and the patience to tackle him and then the fun began. Farley tolerated bath time. He even seemed to enjoy it. The trouble was... what smelled clean to me smelled awful to him and as soon as he was dry, he couldn't wait to go outside so he could roll in disgusting, unmentionable things!

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Here it is; the truth about Farley and the family car. When I did travel with canine, I put a metal barrier between the hatch back compartment and the rest of the vehicle. This meant that baby and I could inhabit the space safely and without dander. The one time I left Farley in the car sans restrictions, he not only covered the windows with spittle, he jumped on the doorframe and locked himself inside.

Monday, June 27, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Farley the dog was a lot of work. Not only did he bring every manner of grime into the house, he was a constant source of hair. There was hair everywhere; soft, fine, fly-away hair. Even though I vacuumed the house several times a week, balls of grey tangled fluff would blow across the room if you opened a window or a door. He was lovely to look at, but owning him was a full time job!

Sunday, June 26, 2011

Lynn's Comments: I loved slapstick movies. Good animated cartoons kept me glued to the screen at the Odeon Theatre every Saturday afternoon. One of the most overrated gag ideas has always been the "slip on a banana peel". This pratfall was something my brother and I tried unsuccessfully to recreate many times. You need: a ripe peel, a slippery linoleum floor and a bozo who doesn't look where he's going. All three are hard to put in the same place at the same time without deliberate and calculated effort. Unsuccessful with the surprise attack, we tried the stunt on each other, our buddies and our dad. (Mom would have whacked the both of us for doing something so stupid, so she was out of the scene altogether.) We never did recreate the wonderful slip, slide and landing that was so funny in the theatre. It was therefore important, once I had the freedom of a comic strip at hand, to complete this elusive gag in the newspapers and fulfil a lifelong quest.

Saturday, June 25, 2011

Lynn's Comments: This is a situation where a really bad and insensitive "joke" can be nicely covered up by putting it within the strip, not completing the sentence and using a friendlier punch line!

Friday, June 24, 2011

Lynn's Comments: My brother was not living with me at the same time Farley did. This was all part of the creative process. Having the dog, the brother, two kids and a husband all under one roof appealed to me as a cartoonist. Had I really shared my space with this lot, I think I would have been the one to run away from home!

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Lynn's Comments: This was based on a scenario which once kept my neighbours, Marg and Kenny, up all night. Their small dog "Pixie" took off for parts unknown and Marg was so upset, she had to be sedated. Meanwhile, police, firemen, neighbors and family combed the area without success. Pixie later appeared on her own. She had been under the porch, too afraid to come out with all the crying and commotion going on.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Whenever someone or something goes missing, we are programmed to think the worst. Maybe it's the news or the stuff we see on television that makes us panic, but we find ourselves preparing for the most awful of outcomes - just in case! When Farley disappeared I wondered if he had been stolen - but someone loading his dirty, hairy, odiferous butt into their vehicle was pretty hard to imagine!

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Lynn's Comments: The real Farley rarely left the property, but if he did decide to go AWOL, he'd be gone for the day. It was hard to find him in our housing complex and there was a ravine to get into as well. It was the highway close by that really worried me. He was big and cuddly, but a pretty dim bulb; as canines go, he was no "Lassie"!

Monday, June 20, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Aaron was a baby when Farley roamed the house. Because he was my dog and I was used to him, I didn't panic when he'd sidle to the jolly jumper and remove Aaron's lunch from his face with his big, wet tongue. When I see a dog licking a baby's face today, I cringe. Perhaps that's because I no longer have either one!

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Father's Day has always been one of the more challenging Sunday comics to produce. We never really made too much of it when I was a kid and later, when my two were small, it was a day when the best "present" was to let Dad spend the day in his workshop! Still, it's a day that puts the spotlight on dads and children, no matter what the marital dynamics are - which is a good thing. We need more Father's Days and Mother's Days, if you ask me. Heaven knows- there's nothing more rewarding than being recognized and appreciated for doing a difficult job well!

Saturday, June 18, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Mud puddles provided endless entertainment for my brother and me. Dad showed us how to make boats out of matchbooks, toothpicks, Kleenex and glue. We stomped in them, dammed them up, and crunched through the ice when they were frozen. When I think of all the toys we had to stimulate our imaginations I smile...'cause, the puddles in the laneway were the most fun of all!

Friday, June 17, 2011

Lynn's Comments: Our childhood home on Fifth and Lonsdale in North Vancouver was where all the neighborhood kids seemed to congregate. When our sprinkler was on, it meant food, fun and a bathroom if you remembered to use it! My folks were tolerant and welcoming and everyone took their generosity for granted. They rarely complained, however - they wanted to be able to look out the window and know where we were!

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Lynn's Comments: We didn't have lockers until grade six, but the comic value of the leftover sandwiches, fetid gym clothes and unidentifiable crud couldn't be denied. Our lockers were both a repository for school supplies and a place to stash everything else. It was a tiny, private storage unit; our first "home away from home".