Michael: Browse The Strips

Sunday, August 25, 2013

Lynn's Comments: So many times I ran around my neighbourhood with a finger or a plastic gun, pointing at friends and crying, "BANG! You're dead!" It was exciting. It was fun. We heard the headline news and listened to our parents. Dad had been in the war, but nothing they said made a difference. We were on a mission to win something. We didn't know what. There was no real sense to it, nobody explained why we were fighting or what death meant. We were just caught up in the thrill and the energy and the noise and the fun. Later, as a cartoonist, I saw a striking similarity to a child's attitude and what really happens in a war.

Monday, August 26, 2013

Lynn's Comments: The quote "my lungs sound like a barn full of owls" came from my dad. He was a pack-a-day smoker whose health was steadily deteriorating. Cigarettes were a staple for many musicians, but Dad's declining health and Alan's growing maturity made him see that he had to quit before he couldn't play the trumpet any more.

Sunday, September 1, 2013

Lynn's Comments: In parenting magazines, I read about "you messages." This is when someone turns a situation around and puts the pressure on YOU. We were taught that "you messages" were not good disciplinary tools and should not be employed when having a heart-to-heart conversation. Rather than say, "You made me angry today," a parent should say, "I felt angry today, and we need to talk." I practiced this as much as possible, but the art of defusing a situation by not putting guilt onto the other person failed to precipitate down to the offspring. Things that I could not possibly be responsible for suddenly became my fault. This candy wrapper incident enlightened me to the fact that my kids were as good at game playing with words as we were!

Monday, September 2, 2013

Lynn's Comments: Boredom is the thing that drives kids to get into all kinds of mischief. It was hard to find stuff for my kids to do that wasn't electronic or fattening! This is where being "artsy-craftsy" came in handy. As long as I had art supplies, my kids had a project. I credit my mom for inventing many of the things we did!

Tuesday, September 3, 2013

Lynn's Comments: I remember being so bored, I thought the day would never end. I'd lie on our old blue sofa and wish I could see into the future so I could know what to prepare for. I wanted to get started as soon as possible. Art came so easily for me (I never expected it to provide a living), so I worried about not being smart enough, not being liked, and not fitting in. Being a kid had so many limitations. I wanted to be grown up and gone! I felt imprisoned in a kid's body.

Monday, September 9, 2013

Lynn's Comments: The first day of school was always exciting for me, and a new teacher was fresh meat. The ones who were most successful in taming our classes began by setting down the rules. They were strict, no-nonsense people who could stand up to the most irritating kids. If they also turned out to be creative, entertaining, funny, and fair, they had us in the palms of their hands, and we learned--just to earn their praise.

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Lynn's Comments: Like Michael, I wanted my room to remain in a constant state of upheaval when I was a kid. The mess was a sign of independence, a statement that marked my room as mine. Commands to clean it up were greeted with indifference. Even if I was forced to comply, the state of "tidy" might have only lasted a day. I could never see the reason why a room had to be kept in order if nobody saw it but me. A kid needs solid reasons, and the threat of punishment wasn't reason enough!

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Lynn's Comments: My husband actually admitted to me once that he put the dishes in the dishwasher "the wrong way" on purpose! It meant that I did it all the time so it would be done "right!"

Sunday, October 6, 2013

Lynn's Comments: Allowing Aaron to stay home while I went shopping was a privilege for both of us. He was a responsible kid, and his grandparents lived next door. As far as I know, he didn't get into any mischief, but I was always on my guard. All I had to do was remember what my brother and I did when given the run of the house.

For years Mom and Dad worked in our small jewellery shop on upper Lonsdale in North Vancouver. It took twenty minutes for them to walk home, so we could gauge almost to the minute when the front door handle would turn. It was my job to get dinner on and Al's job to stay out of my way. Sometimes, dinner was a snap, and I'd take off on my bike until the folks arrived. During these times of freedom, Al (aged 13 or 14 at the time) emptied Dad's gin, substituting the missing booze with water. He ate whatever candy was hidden and smoked Dad's cigarettes. I thought he'd be in for it, but he never got caught.

I explored every drawer and every crevice in our house looking for treasure or secrets or hidden birthday gifts. I tried on my mother's underwear and used her perfume. I made crank phone calls and listened in to the party line. (This was a forbidden indiscretion, but I saw Mom do it as well.) I ate stuff and danced on the sofa and felt the freedom I longed for. Freedom then was having the house to myself.

It was with these memories in mind that I looked for evidence of similar lawlessness when Aaron was left alone. I never saw a thing. Obviously, he was as good at covering his tracks as we were!

Monday, October 7, 2013

Lynn's Comments: Curlers had gone out of style along with the housedress, but Elly occasionally sported them. Curlers and gobs of face cream were a cartoon cliche. Television sit-coms and comic strips often used these props to make a woman look her most unattractive. Today, comedy has to rely on other props...and fortunately, the shapeless housecoat is still first choice in comfortable morning garb. The good thing is that husbands look bad in them too!

Tuesday, October 8, 2013

Lynn's Comments: My mother joined a weight loss program for which she needed one of those tiny food scales. After buying both Alan and me a pack of Smarties, she actually weighed them to prove that neither of us was getting more than the other.

Wednesday, October 9, 2013

Lynn's Comments: When the Smothers Brothers did that routine: "Mom liked you more than she liked me," it was no joke. Those of us who truly felt like the family disappointment saw this skit as confirmation that inequality was a reality for many kids. In our "British" family, boys were definitely preferred!

Thursday, October 10, 2013

Lynn's Comments: As a kid, I had a talent for making insults. This "gift" could be quite a threat. Woe to the child who had a name that rhymed with something funny or initials that spelled a word. If I was suffering at the hands of a bully, I'd go into my repertoire of insults and "win." When I began to change from kid to teenager, however, I became a butterball, and if somebody called me "fatso," I'd crumble. What goes 'round, comes 'round!

Sunday, October 13, 2013

Lynn's Comments: Again, a Sunday strip that didn't have to be invented. Word for word, this was real dialogue, and I wrote it down on a paper towel in the kitchen. I never seemed to have a notebook available. There was one in my bedside table for ideas that came in the night, but during the day, I had to grab whatever scrap of paper I could find. I learned quickly to capture an idea as soon as I could. My chequebook, which was always in my purse (before credit cards), was filled with punch lines, fast sketches, and ideas for future strips. Trying to remember these things later was impossible, and if I let a good one get away, I'd be miserable! This exchange made for a cathartic cartoon and saved my son, once again, from the wrath of Mom.