John: Browse The Strips

Saturday, June 14, 2014

Lynn's Comments: One of the things I remember my husband saying is that the line, "I hate dentists," actually hurt a lot! We went to a large dinner party shortly after he graduated, and when a woman came up to us and said, "You're a dentist? I HATE you!" He was speechless. She said it as a joke, but the statement had hooks and claws--and it put a damper on our evening. Later, Rod said, "What about the folks who are happy to be out of pain? What about kids with a front tooth missing? I give people back their smiles!" True enough, and going to the dentist is no longer painful--but still, the comment comes. Guess it's a lame gag we make out of habit!

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

Lynn's Comments: This idea came from a situation in which a friend's house was broken into, and she was upset that the police had seen her unwashed dishes and her unmade bed. I remember thinking: Like wearing good underwear in case of an emergency, you should keep your house tidy in case it's robbed!

Thursday, June 19, 2014

Lynn's Comments: My dad had the gift of the gab and he made friends everywhere. Mom was much more reserved, and never wanted to attract attention to herself. One night, guess it was about 11:00 pm, we had all gone to bed when a loud police siren was heard outside our house. Right outside. Dad got up, put on his dressing gown, and looked out the window. Two police officers were standing on our front porch--hammering on the door. "Ridgway? Ridgway! Open up!" We were all up by then, and watched as Dad tentatively opened the door. Standing there were two guys he had been chatting up that day. "You got the coffee on?" one said. "We just got off work!" Dad laughed out loud, went to the kitchen and put on the coffee. He had a great time talking to these funny, easy-going guys, and figured it was one of the best nights he'd had in ages. Mom didn't speak to him for a week.

Saturday, June 21, 2014

Lynn's Comments: This strip was reprinted many, many times for moms and kids wanting to give it to Dad for Father's Day--but now and then we printed it for dads who just wanted to be reminded how good those baby hugs feel.

Sunday, June 22, 2014

Lynn's Comments: I think I've told you that Ruth, my mother-in-law, was a weaver. She must have had three looms going at once and extras for friends who wanted to learn. Thrifty and thoughtful, she kept every scrap of fabric and every piece of yarn. The cut ends from her warps and weavings, called thrums (there's a name for everything!), were kept for stuffing and felting and for birds' nests--which I thought was neat. In early spring, Ruth would go for long walks in the woods and leave handfuls of thrums along the way for the birds to find.

An avid birder, she would then retrace her steps and watch for nests, which had been made with her threads. Determined to see me do the same, she gave me a basket of thrums to distribute. We were well into nesting season, and when I still hadn't thrown the thrums, she began to grumble. Annoyed and lazy, I tossed the threads onto our lawn and forgot about them until the lawn needed mowing. I started the mower and was happily going along when suddenly the thing seized with a loud, metallic THWANGGGGG. Smoke came out from under the cowling with a burning rubber smell. I unplugged the mower and turned it over. Strangling the blade was a broad band of colourful, smouldering thrums.

Monday, June 30, 2014

Lynn's Comments: "Train of blank" was not mine. Somebody said it somewhere years ago and it stuck in my head. What a great line!--Isn't it strange that you can remember some insignificant little line like this, but forget your licence plate, your passwords and your PIN?

Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Lynn's Comments: This strip was done well before the advent of electronic readers and iPads. It's interesting to see that we continue to wonder how the printed page will survive, and if books as we know them will still be the pleasure they once were--and the best gift ever.

Sunday, July 6, 2014

Lynn's Comments: Every year, my folks took us to the "PNE" --The Pacific National Exhibition. This event was huge by the standards of the day. It included, along with the midway, exhibits of farm animals, a flower show, cooking demonstrations, and buskers of all kinds. You could spend a day there and pay nothing for food. Free samples of baking and meats and candy were enough to sustain our family of four!

The day dad took us on the biggest Ferris wheel we'd ever seen, my brother, Alan, and I were stuffed with snacks, corn on the cob, and our favourite: cotton candy (which we called "candy floss"). I was the one with the cast iron stomach, but this day was different. By the time we had ascended to the top of the ride, I was feeling woozy. At the first descent, I was a bilious green. As the chair ascended, my pyloric valve gave way, and I jettisoned a load of carnival chow over the handrail onto the heads of the couple below. It was good to have missed my dad, but the thought of dealing with the victims in the chair ahead, unnerved him greatly. The ride didn't stop for accidents like this, so we endured the cycle--expecting to be taken aside by the people I'd barfed on. They would be getting off first.

As the ride came to a halt, Dad, the least confrontational man on the planet, prepared for the worst. Fortunately, the couple fled to the nearest bathroom without looking back. Relieved, Dad sighed and said, "You're lucky, Lindy. Those folks were understanding. My guess is--they definitely have kids."

Saturday, July 12, 2014

Lynn's Comments: The Canadian spelling of racquet was always in question. Since the majority of readers were American, my editors suggested I use the American spelling. I refused. When I signed the contract with the syndicate, it was with the understanding that I could keep everything Canadian, including the spelling of words like racquet, cheque, colour, and neighbour. I said I'd be happy to let individual editors change the spelling if it bothered them--and a few did. Most, however, kept the spelling exactly as written, and I even got letters from readers who loved the fact that they were reading work done by a Canadian!

Thursday, July 17, 2014

Lynn's Comments: Johnny Hart (Wizard of Id and B.C.) was a wonderful cartoonist and a great friend. One of my favourite cartoons shows BC hitchhiking. Rock after rock rolls by, but the riders won't pick him up. Then the "camera" pulls back to show a sign slightly ahead of where B.C. is standing. It says, "CAUTION. DIP IN THE ROAD."

Friday, July 18, 2014

Lynn's Comments: Another cartoon I remember, was a panel in the New Yorker: Two couples are standing in front of a large, elaborate fireplace after having had an extravagant dinner in one of their homes. The caption read something like, "Dinner for dinner, lunch for lunch--.we're even." This really appealed to me. When someone asks me to dinner, I am immediately wondering when and how to reciprocate!

Wednesday, July 23, 2014

Lynn's Comments: As time went by, Joan and Alan became an item and then a couple--as did the characters Phil and Georgia in the strip. One day, Alan called to say that he and Joan were getting serious and that I could not have Phil and Georgia get engaged until he was ready to propose to Joan. The strip, inadvertently, had become a window into their lives.

Sunday, August 3, 2014

Lynn's Comments: I did this Sunday page after I was squeezed in half by a sadistically designed lawn chair. I brought the chair into my studio and drew the exact position it was in when it maimed me. I felt relieved and vindicated even before the art was published. This job came with unlimited and curative benefits. I was jubilant when I took the chair to the dump.

Thursday, August 7, 2014

Lynn's Comments: The name "Brittany" was chosen because my friends, Don and Beth, named their first daughter "Brittany." Their second daughter, they named "Elly!"

Friday, August 8, 2014

Lynn's Comments: My first husband used to come home from work, look around the house and say, "What did you DO all day?" The house was tidy, the laundry done, dinner was prepared and the baby was clean, fed and sleeping. I felt I had put in a full day's work--plus overtime!

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Lynn's Comments: My granddaughter is, at the time of this writing, two and a half years old. She is active and curious and constantly on the go. Her mom, dad and I read to her, play with her, and try to answer all her questions. She is a joy, but still, we look forward to the day she'll be able to go to kindergarten. Not because she is too much to handle; she is just so ready to learn!

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Lynn's Comments: I once admitted to a male friend (not a partner) that I had told a best friend some very intimate personal things--and he said that guys often tell their best friends intimate personal stuff too. I guess it depends on who the people are, what the information is, and why it had to be shared. I refuse to feel guilty about spilling my guts to a trusted friend. Sometimes, when the dam is about to break--you go to someone with a life raft!

Sunday, September 7, 2014

Lynn's Comments: My folks used to take us to farms in the Fraser Delta for fresh strawberries. Both Alan and I were too young to enjoy picking, but we sure liked eating them. One day when our family was standing at the checkout with our baskets of strawberries, the man at the till looked at my brother with a curious smile. Alan was covered from his mouth to his navel in red juice. The man picked him up, put him on a big metal scale, and announced that he had to charge for the extra weight of the berries inside. He was kidding, but Dad paid him a little extra anyway.

Every summer we went as a family to get fresh fruit in season. In the Okanagan, we got peaches, plums, and apricots. It was a long drive but worth it. Mom canned everything, so we had the luxury of fruit preserves all winter long. Nothing tasted like the fresh stuff, though, and on one trip, Dad said we kids could eat whatever we wanted--so we did! As I said, it was a long drive home. With two kids full of fresh fruit, it's easy to imagine the results. We used the "roadside" washroom many times, with Mom hiding us behind her skirt as Dad looked madly around for paper!