Michael: Browse The Strips

Saturday, June 7, 2014

Lynn's Comments: My two and a half year old granddaughter views the potty as a torture device. Just the suggestion that she give it a try can bring on a fit. Thanks to friends' recycled mini-biffs, and cool scores at the second hand shop, we have been able to offer her a variety of receptacles: pretty colours with transparent glitter-filled seats, ones that play musical ditties, and others which display the grinning gums of familiar animated characters all thrilled to have done the job where it's supposed to be done--but no deal.

We have determined, since she no longer fits on the change table, that it's time. Very soon we will all take part in the process of elimination--which suggests that we (her mom, dad and I) will give up until one is left to watch for widdle and divine for dumps. With this in mind, I read the above comic strip and thought; "At least he USES the darned thing!!!"

Sunday, June 8, 2014

Lynn's Comments: Some strips need no commentary. I think this one of the rare ones that, while I was drawing it, made me laugh out loud!

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.

Friday, June 20, 2014

Lynn's Comments: My philosophy was, "I don't care if you sleep or not, just go to bed and be quiet." A light on was okay, books and toys were okay. It seemed to me that an hour was all it took for the offspring to weary and crash!

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 23, 2014

Lynn's Comments: My friend, Carol, and I set up a lemonade stand in front of my house, and of course, my mom did all the work. We thought it would take all day to sell our wares, but were surprised to have many customers--one right after the other. It took awhile, years actually, before my dad admitted to calling everyone on the block--asking them to buy.

Sunday, June 29, 2014

Lynn's Comments: Chores were a given around our house when I was a kid. In fact, all the kids I knew had to do something to earn their allowance. It was so unfair. I remember thinking how lucky my parents were to have so much power and freedom. They could, if they wanted to, go anywhere without having to say where they were going or when they'd be back. They had money and jobs and a car. My brother and I were servants! We had do what they wanted us to do, be where they wanted us to be, say what they told us to say, and work! I remember snivelling about how hard it was to pile firewood, weed the garden, sweep the walks. Torture. It was TORTURE!

So, when it was my turn to have the upper hand, I told my kids that it was their duty to help around the house. I gave them a chore list and a deadline. They snivelled and complained, and said the same stuff (behind my back) that I said about my folks. They said how lucky I was to be the boss, to have freedom and power and money. They said how unfair I was and how mean! It took patience, strength and perseverance, but in the end, they too learned to pitch in and lighten the load.

Now my daughter has two kids, and the oldest (age two) complains about having to pick stuff up and put it away. Yeah, the best thing about being a grandparent is watching your kids deal with their kids--who are doing the same stuff they did to you!!

Tuesday, July 1, 2014

Lynn's Comments: After I sent this strip to the syndicate, I felt badly for having used Cathy Guisewite's exclamation. I think this is the only time I ever used the word "Gakkk!" Years later, after many crazy thought-up sounds: bork, flubble, snooof, snerkk, and so on, I received a letter from someone saying I had stolen Don Martin's words. Don did a fabulous spread for Mad Magazine, and his use of funny sound effects was legendary. I wrote back to say that I knew Don's work, and although my sound effects might be similar, I tried hard not to copy anything of Don's. I mean, how many ways can you depict a scream? In deference to Cathy, I have always spelled "AAAAAUGH!" that way--so that she could have "AAAAKKKK!" all to herself.

Friday, July 4, 2014

Lynn's Comments: One of the most effective advertising gimmicks ever was the "jingle." My chums and I memorized all of them, and today, I can still sing the bluesy torch song that extolled the goodness of Du Maurier cigarettes. I'm trying to think of a modern equivalent--anyone heard a really good jingle lately?

Saturday, July 5, 2014

Lynn's Comments: This scenario was actually from a childhood memory. My brother and I did make a television out of a cardboard box, and we did try to put on a show for our friends. What happened was, our dad, who was a born entertainer, took over the box and put on the show for us. He should have been in vaudeville--but, was born a few years too late.

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."

Tuesday, July 8, 2014

Lynn's Comments: In the Canadian north, you learn to live with flies. Legends, stories, and songs have been written about them, and no amount of spray will protect you when the season is nigh. I used to complain about the mosquitoes on the west coast, but the black flies, deer flies, and mosquitoes in northern Ontario make wimps out of them. On the GOOD side, the country here is beautiful!

Friday, July 11, 2014

Lynn's Comments: Badminton was one of the games our family really enjoyed. The net would go up in the back yard as soon as spring arrived, and by the end of summer, the grass around it was worn to the ground. Our house was built on a hill, so the front looked like a bungalow, but the back was a two-storey affair, and the roof towered high above the makeshift court. Even so, we managed to whack birdies onto the roof, and Dad, ever mindful of the cost of new ones, risked his life annually to get them down.

Monday, July 14, 2014

Lynn's Comments: I remember thinking I could dig down to China. I really believed I would come out the other side of the earth to find a completely new civilization. I also believed our beach blanket could fly--as long as I was wrapped up in it and couldn't see. My imagination was so strong, I could feel the wind come under the blanket and lift it up. Because of these memories, I can appreciate the daydreams my granddaughter has. I watch with fascination, hoping she doesn't lose this wonderful gift too fast.

Sunday, July 20, 2014

Lynn's Comments: Doug and Ina Harrison lived on Trout Lake--about a mile down the road from us, close to my in-laws. Ruth and Ina were great friends. The Harrisons' dock was a favourite place for these ladies to sit and have tea, and our kids were welcome, too. Katie and Aaron spent hours on the Harrisons' dock, swimming and fishing, and enjoying the company of Doug and Ina, who became "adopted grandparents." This strip was to thank them for their kind generosity. I gave them the original.