Michael: Browse The Strips

Saturday, June 4, 2016

Lynn's Comments: What I stomped on was wasps' nests! Ground wasps were plentiful, and when I found one, I'd place a rock over the hole, twirl around on it and run before the returning wasps could see what had happened. It was a game of chicken, and much more exciting than the game I was supposed to be playing!

Sunday, June 5, 2016

Lynn's Comments: I was appalled when my kids were young and would see graphic material on TV which should never be allowed on prime time. I did this strip in solidarity with other parents desperately wanting their children to have a healthy view of conflict, sex, and politics. I can't imagine what the parents of today's youngsters are doing now!

Tuesday, June 7, 2016

Lynn's Comments: Even the scenario here with the baseball glove really happened. I will clearly remember this day forever--no matter how much it's embellished!

Sunday, June 12, 2016

Lynn's Comments: I put a lot of private, embarrassing truths into the strip. I often wonder if identifying all these faults and making fun of them made me a better person. If not, it surely made me more aware!

Sunday, June 19, 2016

Lynn's Comments: My husband really was happiest when he was in his workshop. No matter what was going on around him, his hobbies and his various projects kept him focused and content. If you wanted to spend time with him, the workshop was the place to be. Katie learned this at a very young age, which is why she can now fix or make just about anything!

Sunday, June 26, 2016

Lynn's Comments: This was, and likely still is, a contentious issue. By opening the door to conversation on the topic of "when does life begin?" I was rattling a few cages. Knowing I was treading on thin ice, I made sure the punch line was innocuous, but I got the angry mail anyway. In the end, I was glad I had drawn this strip. It was something we were talking to our kids about and I knew other parents were struggling with this question as well. This shows you how much freedom I was given by my syndicate and many editors to write and say things that were sensitive and not easily mentioned in a comic strip.

Tuesday, July 5, 2016

Lynn's Comments: This scenario dates back to my own childhood. My brother and I would torment each other by simply staring. This "game" even had a name: it was "Seeing" (from the lament, "Daddy! She's seeing at me!") This could get intensely annoying, and when my brother finally broke down and asked Dad to intervene, he got into the act. He invented the "one eye see," the "two eye half see," the "blinking see," and so on. With Dad ready to play the game along with us, the sport quickly lost its competitive sting and we gave it up. That is until I told my kids about it--and the tradition carried on.

Friday, July 8, 2016

Lynn's Comments: My dad had a friend who'd had surgery on his throat. The result was that he couldn't speak. He had learned to talk by what Dad said was called, "an educated burp." This fascinated my brother and me, so Dad challenged us to see how much of the alphabet we could recite in one long burp. Unimpressed, Mom told us off--saying we should have better things to do with our time. As soon as she was out of earshot, Dad, my brother and I continued our efforts. Yes, Dad didn't have to do much to convince Alan and me, and all the kids in the neighbourhood that he was one of us.

Monday, July 11, 2016

Lynn's Comments: The cherry tree in our front yard on Fifth Street was tall and sturdy, and one branch afforded us a great view of the neighbours' houses. Every time we hid up there, we hoped to see something important, something about which we could tell the police. If we didn't see anything, it didn't matter. Alan and I could always make something up.

Friday, July 15, 2016

Lynn's Comments: While writing this short vignette, I remembered very clearly the vigils we made in our cherry tree. I could feel the branches, smell the leaves, sense the movement of the tree, and anticipate the pummeling my mother would give us if she caught us up there. A cartoonist has to have a good memory and an even better sense of "what if?"

Sunday, July 17, 2016

Lynn's Comments: This is a scene from my childhood--trying to jump off the high diving board at Mahon Park pool. We called the pool, "Typhoid Tank" because it was emptied infrequently, and when it was, the water was so cold, you thought you'd die. Nobody ever died from the cold water, but we sure took our chances on that board!

Tuesday, July 19, 2016

Lynn's Comments: This vignette had its roots in another story from my childhood: Across the lane from our house on 5th Street, lived the Doucette family. Their back yard faced ours, and Teddy Doucette was one of my adventurous buddies. His sister, Annette, was a teenager a few years older than we were, and everything she did was of great interest to us. The Doucettes had a small wartime house much like ours, but their attic had an outside access with a ladder going up to it--a wonderful place to play and hide. The floors in their house were thin and made of painted wooden slats. The attic was directly above. In the ceiling of Annette's bedroom, a small knot had been carefully pried open, and from inside the attic, Teddy and I could spy into her room. We could see only a very small area, but the thought of watching her unseen was great fun. (Continued tomorrow).

Wednesday, July 20, 2016

Lynn's Comments: (Continued from yesterday)--What we didn't know was that Annette could hear us in the attic. She had just entered her room when Teddy shifted his weight on the attic floor to get a better look. Suddenly, Annette looked up at the knothole and saw an eye looking back at her. We knew we had a matter of seconds to descend the outside ladder and escape. We just made it to the bottom when both Annette and her dad came roaring out of the house! Teddy and I ran as fast as we could, our legs pumping like mad down the lane and to temporary safety. It was exhilarating and well worth the tongue-lashing we received when we got back home. Teddy was sent to bed without supper. I was sent to my room until my dad came home.

Thursday, July 21, 2016

Lynn's Comments: (Continued from yesterday)--I don't remember what my dad did. He was never much of a disciplinarian. All I can tell you is that he lived vicariously through my brother and me, and if he'd been our age, he would have been in that attic right along with us!