John: Browse The Strips

Friday, October 1, 2010

Lynn's Comments: To discipline or not to discipline. When is it time to be angry and when do you "let it ride". My family has always been into the one liners: never pass up an opportunity for wordplay. Never let a pun go unpunished. So, when a slip of the tongue was a slip of judgement, there was always the dilemma: was it funny enough to be given a star rating for genius or was it just plain rude? Instead of being direct with our opinions, we told the truth in jest and more often than not, the result was banishment to the bedroom for an opportunity to think...while the folks (within earshot) discussed the merits of the performance. No wonder both my bro and I were bound for the entertainment business!

Sunday, October 3, 2010

Lynn's Comments: I think the idea for this one came more from my babysitting days than it did from our family. The people next door to us on 5th street had four little girls. They were sweet, well behaved kids, but the excuses they made to keep from going to bed were inventive, effective and unending. When one was down, another was up with a request or a need or a fear or SOMETHING! This was all so frustrating- both because my disciplinary skills were rudimentary and because Mrs. Benn always left chocolate cake in the fridge and I couldn't get to it until the kids were asleep. I always wondered how they could stay awake for so long when they were so tired...but I think we did the same thing to our babysitters... a rite of passage for the sitters and the sat!

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Lynn's Comments: When this strip originally ran, folks asked "What in the world is a GARBURETOR?" Well, in Canada, that's what we called a garbage disposal installed in the sink. I was told it was called "insinkerator" and a variety of other things, but I was not about to change a Canadianism and so the word stayed. Whatever it's called, I have never owned one. The dog and I took care of the leftovers.

Friday, October 8, 2010

Lynn's Comments: It's rare, now that an actual human contacts you regarding a payment. When it does happen, you get past the shock and then you wonder which country they are calling from. Who are these people and how on earth are they are trained for this job? These folks have an attitude of such superiority, such command...and they are prepared for a fight. If you can make them laugh, however, you can get past their posture and actually have a conversation.

Sunday, October 17, 2010

Lynn's Comments: My dad was not into discipline and ran from having to do it. He delivered his style of direction with sarcasm and humour and more often than not, won the battle hands down. This exchange I remember clearly. On a rainy day, when the cure for boredom was war, Dad intervened with a raspberry and a smile leaving my brother and me in stitches. He was the one who taught us how to pratfall like the comedians in silent films. He could make farting noises with his hand cupped into his armpit and could whistle like the guys on the ferry dock, hauling in the lines. He could burp "God Save the Queen" and he showed us how to spit off the back porch without dribbling on our chins. Stuff like this other kids had to learn from each other. We were coached by the best. Mom probably knew about our alternate studies with Dad...if she did, she didn't let on. Dad might not have been a disciplinarian, but he sure knew how to get our attention and defuse a fight!

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Lynn's Comments: Like household chores, homework was approached with the cry of "Do I HAFTA???!!!" The more you rebel against a chore, the bigger it becomes. From time to time our folks would sit down and do our schoolwork with us and this made it fun. Once, over a long weekend, I had to find a bug, draw it, find out where it lived, what it ate and how it benefited the earth. I was in elementary school...and wondered how long it would take me to do this thing. As I recall, Dad and I spent an afternoon chasing down grasshoppers, learning about them and he even helped with the drawing. It was a big project for a little kid...but with Dad as my biology partner, the time went all too fast.

Friday, October 22, 2010

Lynn's Comments: In the early years, I bounced from subject to subject. Other cartoonists did a “gag a day” and I tried to do the same thing. I had, however found that doing short sequences worked best for me and in time I learned how to bring one idea to a close before introducing another. The ups, downs and dial tone hums of marriage were always good fodder (and mudder) and although I never did wear face cream to bed, I couldn’t resist doing a gag about it.

Saturday, October 23, 2010

Lynn's Comments: Still learning about the craft, I did a couple of "in the dark" strips wherein the subjects talk with the lights out and black panels ensue. This is sort of a cop out, since you don't have to draw anything! It wasn't until this strip came out in the paper that I was disappointed in myself for taking such a shortcut. Funny...when you see your work from the perspective of the reader "out there" you have a totally different opinion of it. Still, I wonder if the gag would have worked had I drawn everything!

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Lynn's Comments: Remember when the thought of recording a personal message for our answering systems gave folks hives? Some asked friends to do it, others signed up for an automated system and others became comics, DJ's and public announcement pros. The other day, I called a friend who still has one of those recording devices on her counter and regularly updates her message. This week it's: "Hello?? HELLO?! ...HELLO!!!!!" and when you repeat for the third time "Hi! It's ME! Hello?" the message says "Hah! You thought I was here, didn't you..well, I'm not, so leave a message!" The message I left was a loud "AAAAAUGHHHHH!!!" followed by my home number. So far I haven't heard back.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Lynn's Comments: I dressed Katie up in a "Little Bo Peep" outfit for Hallowe'en one year and she looked so cute, I couldn't stand it! Trouble is, we lived a northern community where the temperatures dipped well below zero at this time of year and every costume had to fit over a parka. I took her door to door, opening up her jacket to show off her costume to friends. Kate objected to this strenuously. I eventually resorted to explaining who she was and what she was wearing so she could go directly to the loot without preamble. She lasted for 4 blocks ...a good space for a toddler, not far enough for me. I was just getting into the swing of things. I still have her costume and some day, if I'm lucky, I'll see it worn again.

Friday, October 29, 2010

Lynn's Comments: My son, Aaron had a great cowboy costume- right down to the vest, chaps and 6-guns. He would get into this even if it wasn't Hallowe'en, bounce around the house as if he was on a horse and shoot everything in sight. We bought the hat, gun, Sheriff's star and plaid shirt in Winnipeg. I made the chaps, vest and neck scarf. He was just another kid until the outfit was on and then he turned into the wildest of the wild. This was his costume of choice until he grew out of it. This, too, I have preserved in an old trunk, waiting for someone else to make it come to life!

Saturday, October 30, 2010

Lynn's Comments: The town of Lynn Lake was so small, an older kid could successfully hit every single house on Hallowe'en - as long as the frost didn't get him. Our place on Elgin Avenue was right in the middle. With a lane behind us and one of the busier streets in front, both our front and back doors were busy from about 4 in the afternoon until late at night. Some years, we might count as many as 180 trick or treaters and I remember dipping into our own kids' treat bags after we'd run out. Our favourite thing to give out was toothbrushes. One year, fearing we'd get egged for handing out something other than "treats" we decided to give the kids chocolate bars. Surprisingly, people were disappointed. Turned out the toothbrushes were something they all looked forward to! Just goes to prove- that on a night when witches, devils, and scary things roam....you never know what to expect!

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Lynn's Comments: Heaven was lying on our living room couch, eating and watching TV. With the old wood and coal furnace, our house was always cold and the warm spot on the couch was something my brother and I fought over. Yes, we fought over the warm spot! So, once ensconced on the sofa, I hated to remove myself and lose that precious bit of heat! If Dad was the one to order you off the couch, you might be able to beg a few more moments of repose. An order from Mom, meant immediate compliance. In this strip, John uses the "ferocious" method of kid-removal. I used it, too. When all else fails, we parents often resort to animal behaviour. I stopped at taking them by the scruff of their necks with my teeth, however!

Monday, November 1, 2010

Lynn's Comments: During the years when my children were very young, I did not have the option of going back to school, although I would have liked to. My life in a tiny remote mining town in northern Manitoba provided an education of another kind! The character "Elly" is not me. She is someone I MIGHT have been, given other circumstances. My real life wasn't nearly as plausible as Elly Patterson's. Putting myself in her position, I imagined what it would be like to have not accomplished my educational goals and in the soap opera of life, to be playing a minor supporting role. Aside from her identity as a loving, caring and competent mom, Elly was "Mrs. Doctor so and so"...and she wanted more.

Friday, November 5, 2010

Lynn's Comments: The patient in this strip was our dear friend, George Fast. He and his wife Sigrid were our curling partners and we spent some wonderful times together. I often poked fun at friends by putting them in the strip. Sadly, George passed away far too soon. Seeing this again has brought back some great memories.

Saturday, November 6, 2010

Lynn's Comments: Dr. Patterson's receptionist has been based on a number of people over the years, but at this time, she was our friend, Ann-Margret Plummer. Her husband managed the mine and I think she managed everything else! Efficient, sweet natured, honest and fair, we relied on her for everything from book keeping to bringing home the bacon. Years later, we remain great friends and see each other as often as possible.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Lynn's Comments: My husband wasn't a hockey fan. He'd been a figure skater though and believed the exercise would be a good thing. Despite the availability of second hand gear, equipping a kid with uniform, gloves, padding and skates was expensive. I wanted to make sure my son was going to enjoy the sport and stick with it for awhile. Aaron did play for a few years - until the coaches became serious and really wanted to win. This is when the good players get to play and the kids who are there for the fun of it get to sit on the sidelines.

Monday, November 15, 2010

Lynn's Comments: When Aaron was born, Farley the dog was well established as part of the family. Certainly my first introduction to "training" another living thing was the DOG, and from time to time, I clapped my hands and shouted "NO!" to both kid and canine. (I stopped at spraying the kid with water or using a choke chain). Aaron was crawling around the same time he was teething, so kibble and other Farley fare was readily available. When I discovered Aaron teething on a Milkbone and enjoying the grit on his gums, I happily allowed him to indulge. Milkbones, after all, didn't disintegrate into mush like other teething biscuits and it was cheap. The smell of it on the breath of both my charges didn't bother me in the least. Compared to some of the other odors emitted, this was "kissing sweet".

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Lynn's Comments: Aaron did play hockey for a few seasons. I enjoyed watching the games but wasn't one of the screamers. Some parents literally hollered themselves hoarse, while I quietly clapped and waved to the kids on the ice. I wasn't a passive observer, though. I got involved! One of the things I learned quickly was that junior hockey depends on the many volunteer hours required to coach, drive, billet, clothe and feed the teams. The job I enjoyed most was in the arena coffee shop, making hot dogs and burgers and serving coffee. It was fun to meet everyone, and it kept me busy. Sitting in the bleachers in a town where the winter temperatures went down to -50 Celsius could be chilling, and even though I spent my weekends in the coffee shop - I was warm!

Monday, November 29, 2010

Lynn's Comments: Across the lane from us lived the Klotz family. Liz was one of the neighbors I often had coffee with. She and her husband Tony had 3 adopted kids and fostered others, so their house was a busy, welcome retreat from the studio. When I put their name on Mike's hockey jersey, I waited for them to see it in the paper - but others saw it first and called to tell Liz. She was delighted, but wondered if this meant that her husband's small auto repair shop now had to sponsor a local team! From Liz I leaned how to let the small stuff go, to let kids enjoy the freedom to play without noticing the mess of toys and clutter. When it was -40 degrees outside, our homes became playgrounds and trying to keep up with the chaos was nearly impossible. Every mom became a block parent as we took turns being hostess to visiting kids and a support system for each other.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Lynn's Comments: Watching junior hockey was fun. These little players went as fast as they could with as much determination and energy as an NHL champ, undeterred by their wobbly legs and restricting gear. Close to the ice, they fell and landed in furious heaps, unscathed and ready to go for a goal. All around us, parents who were bent on winning shouted advice and admonishments in a roar that would wake the dead. The rink was a frigid metal building. The small row of heating elements above the bleachers did little more than keep us from freezing to our seats, but the energy kept us cheering for all the kids. Being a team would have to wait until they could manage to get from one end of the rink to the other without falling or forgetting what position they were meant to play. This is when hockey was fun and the kids came home exhausted and filled with pride for having done their very best.

Sunday, December 5, 2010

Lynn's Comments: My dad, reading the paper while relaxing on the couch, is a classic image. Mom always read at the table where she could spread the sheets out evenly; Dad preferred to hold them up to the light. The snap and crackle of him flipping to the next page is a sound I can still hear clearly, recorded in some archive buried deep within my private mental files. It was nice to sit, warm against his side, and read the news with him. My knees on the cushions, my shoulder against his, we'd read together in silence. I learned to read at his fast pace and when it came to the "funny pages" we studied together the panels, the pranks, the precision that made us smile. Mom on the other hand did not like us to read over her shoulder. It bothered her to share what must have been a rare private time and, this, of course, offered me the opportunity to ruffle her feathers. I would climb the rung on her chair and read, with my chin on her arm until I could sense a sort of vibration...an electric exchange that happens between mom and kid that says "that's all I can take!" I knew I was pushing her buttons - the trick was to escape before she blew. Funny isn't it how little things drive folks crazy. My dad loved the company, my mom wanted to be left alone. Both of them loved to read, however - which impressed me greatly. I love to read now, because it meant so much to them.

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Lynn's Comments: Knowing the teachers personally made parent-teacher interviews less stressful. Still, I always prepared myself for the same admonishments: Aaron was too easily distracted, he was too much of an entertainer, and in order to learn he had to be part of the audience. Math was never his favorite subject and I could sympathize there. His grandfather tried to give him remedial lessons, as did his grandma, who had been an elementary school teacher. Still, he found it hard to concentrate and would rebel. This had been my problem, too. At parent-teacher interviews, I knew that every time his teachers explained their concerns, it could easily have been my own teachers talking to my parents about me!

Friday, December 10, 2010

Lynn's Comments: I had some wonderful, insightful and compassionate teachers. The dialogue you see here is almost word for word from a conversation I had with Mr. Stibbs in grade four. He told me that yes, he did pick on me and yes, he did single me out in the class - and that he did so because he knew I could do better. He explained that it took a lot of his time and energy to put me in my place and he did so because I was worth it. I think he was the first to put a harness on the unruly kid that I was and he did so by letting me know - in a strict but very fair way, that he had respect for my intelligence and therefore so should I.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Lynn's Comments: In this scenario it’s Elly’s father-in-law who unplugs the toilet, but this story really belongs to my dad. My grandparents lived in West Vancouver. Before we had a car, the trip was made by bus and it took the better part of a morning to get there. My grandfather (Mom’s dad) was a severe man, used to giving orders and making demands. Because my dad’s family was not as high in the British caste system as he was, Gramps treated my father with disdain, often calling him by his last name. “Ridgway! Do this! Ridgway! Do that!”

My dad was hurt and offended. He was gentle soul, however and always tried to avoid conflict. He kept his feelings to himself until the day we arrived to a distraught Gramps and an impossibly plugged privy. Dad was pretty good at fixing things and was soon pressed into finding out what had caused the system to back up. Dad stood before the offending bowl, scratching his head. Gramps, desperate to resolve the problem, offered to pay Dad to fix it. Dad looked at my grandfather and said “I will unplug your toilet if you will call me by my first name.” With some effort, Gramps agreed to do so and the waters flowed once more. Amazing, isn’t it, that the price gramps had to pay was simple courtesy.

Friday, December 17, 2010

Lynn's Comments: "Kafloompa- gush, kafloompa-gush" is my all time favorite sound effect. Coming up with words that suggest things like the screaming of brakes or the rumbling of thunder has been a sort of "art form" with cartoonists often claiming ownership. I was once accused of swiping Don Martin's (Mad Magazine) sound effects. I think the noises I came up with were "ka-thwanggg" or "ga-fwappp" or something like that. Perhaps these words were similar to Don's - but I hadn't stolen them! In the English language, there are only so many ways to spell the sound of a cream pie hitting the side of a head or a mouthful of cold peas being spat onto a plate. Years ago, I saw an article about Rice Crispies and how "snap, crackle and pop" was written in other languages. Some of the examples were: "knisper, knasper, knusper", "rix, rax, rox," and "piff, paff, poff" none of which I thought were as descriptive as the English. So, cartoonists will continue to come up with written sound effects as long as there are images that require them and if anyone should choose to incorporate "kafloompa-gush" into their art, I will consider it, with humility and gratitude, to be a genuine compliment.

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Lynn's Comments: Katie, more than Aaron, was fascinated by the toilet. The fact that things simply disappeared was magic. After overcoming her need to keep everything that was HERS, and agreeing to let creations of a personal nature travel on to the pipes below, she wanted to flush anything that would fit into the porcelain receptacle. Socks, toys, and toothbrushes found themselves trapped in the bowels of our bathroom, awaiting a rescue and a wash. I was partly to blame. When a small boat couldn't be retrieved and tears ensued, I told her that it had gone out to sea and was happily floating off to explore the world beyond. With this in mind, it occurred to her that other things might want to escape the confines of home as well. The sound of flushing was suddenly a reason to drop whatever was at hand and run to the nearest bathroom. The day we bought our own "worm" was the day we gave up, braced ourselves for more flushings (despite warnings, admonishments and time outs) and looked forward to the day when other things would capture her interest. Unfortunately, neither of our kids was ever fascinated by laundry.

Monday, December 20, 2010

Lynn's Comments: Yes, grandparents are a wonderful invention. I was lucky to have had the best parents-in-law one could ask for. Ruth and Tom Johnston were the models for the grandparents you see here. I used their photographs to get a likeness and their personalities were incorporated as well. I was so glad my kids had a rich and healthy connection to at least one set of grandparents. My folks lived on the other side of the country and were not able to see the children too often.

My own grandparents were either distant in miles or distant in sentiment. The only recollection I have of my paternal grandfather was “putting him out” when he fell asleep sitting up on the couch in our living room. He would smoke home rolled cigs, and the paper would be stuck to his bottom lip while the lit end smoldered and dropped hot ashes on his shirt. I remember slight plumes of smoke rising from his chest and Grandma whacking him with a dishcloth to put out the fire! My dad’s mom was a round lady with a strong domestic streak who was at home in the kitchen – but I do remember seeing photos of her in buckskins, in the snow, holding a rifle! That’s another story.

My mom’s folks were British and rather “upper crust”. Although they appreciated us, my brother and my cousins and I all had to be seen and not heard. In the strip, I had both sets of grandparents play a meaningful role – even though they lived in Winnipeg and Vancouver. In my imagination, it could all be just the way I wanted it to be!

Friday, December 24, 2010

Lynn's Comments: It was all I could do to stay in bed on Christmas morning. By 5 am, I'd be up and peeking around the hall corner at the gifts under tree. If my brother was awake, we'd stand there hand in hand in the living room, shivering more from excitement than the cold. We were allowed to open our stockings and nothing else. The waiting was awful and wonderful at the same time. I wondered how my folks could stay in bed on such an important morning. Christmas had taken such a long time to come, and now we were made to wait even longer. I made the same arrangement with Kate and Aaron. Stockings only until we were up and the coffee was made. I remember them pushing our bedroom door open to see if we were stirring. It was all they could do to let us sleep until 7. We didn't appreciate it at the time, but I now miss those busy, crazy sleep deprived Christmas mornings!

Saturday, December 25, 2010

Lynn's Comments: In Lynn Lake, we had Christmas morning to ourselves and after lunch we'd walk over to Ruth and Tom's house for more openings and Christmas dinner. My in-laws always gave us practical gifts, so this strip was just for fun. Nobody gave the kids horns and drums - they were noisy enough as it was. Sitting in their living room surrounded by family and food, paper and presents is an image I'll keep with me forever. What you see in this strip is all of us the way we were at a time when life was perhaps more complicated, but far less stressful. Memories and magic is what Christmas is all about.

Sunday, December 26, 2010

Lynn's Comments: The Lynn Lake theatre was an easy walk from the house. If one of us took the kids to a movie, the other could have a few hours to catch up. One of my favorite things to do is to "organize"! I love to throw things out and often regret having done so. The alternative, though, is to have too much stuff! What a luxurious problem to have. One day while the kids were out, I did go through their things. I gave much of what I thought was forgotten and ready to recycle to the church for the annual bake and rummage sale. This event was always well attended. I took Katie and Aaron with me to enjoy the tea and the treasure hunt, forgetting there would be a number of their things in the sale. They immediately identified their own toys and I dutifully bought back the things they weren't ready to part with! I learned to ask first, and to let them choose what to give away and what to save!