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As father of, among others, two girls (one now married), my response to Alex on Saturday would be a considerably sterner version of Jeff's response to Zipper on Sunday. Thanks for continuing to chronicle my life.
Today's strip -- Awright Zipper!! About time for someone to do a reality check on "The Red Rascal."
Today's strip was perfect, vintage Twilight Zone. Especially Zipper's expression in panel seven. All that was missing was the horns.
Like many fans, I've been waiting for the rug to be swiftly and brutally pulled from under Jeff's feet in his rich fantasy. It seemed to finally be happening today -- but then it seems like the dream might be reality!?! Nice psyche. You pulled a fast on on me, Garry!
Re the 40-years-ago Flashback: May 4, 1970 -- It was a pretty day at Kent State and at Penn State where I walked the campus a day later and tried to imagine it happening there. Perhaps it says something about growing up in the 60s in that I could imagine it happening there. I can never understand it, but I could imagine it happening.
When did Alex develop a devious, manipulative side?
Looks like Alex used the old "reverse-psychology" trick to head off her biological Mom's bid to attend her upcoming nuptials. Though I get the feeling, given the latter's previous history, she's gonna wind up there anyway. With "Uncle Stupidhead" in tow, naturally.
I want to get my bet in right now. Alex's mom will crash the wedding, Perthaps wearing a wedding dress in black and widow's weeds.
What joy! Lacey Davenport is introduced in the 35-years-ago Flashback strip. These time capsules are a wonder, repeatedly making my morning shine -- before I spoil it, repeatedly, by turning to current news in the Times.
Everyone blesses us. Some by their presence, others by their absence. Way to stand up for yourself, Alex!
I love it when the old 'Please don't throw me in the briar patch' trick of Brer Rabbit is re-introduced. Nice one, Alex!
Zeke's alright. He's just misunderstood. Often. Always by perceptive people.
Zeke's comment to Alex referring to Drew made me laugh out loud. GBT juggles his wide range of characters expertly. People we don't see for months or years show up in perfect context. Three cheers.
Tell Alex we love her even though her mother is so nasty.
I like how even though Alex has her own runaway imagination, she doesn't buy into her mom's extravagant flights of fancy.
What is it about Uncle Duke that never fails to amuse me and Zeke that never fails to annoy me? Is it that Duke is simply much more interesting? Even the clueless Zipper is more appealing than Zeke.
I stayed at sweet little inns in Afghanistan back in the seventies, when it was part of the overland trail to Kathmandu. I rode on top of a bus with the baggage, in an open truck and on top of a tanker over the gravel road and roadless plain between Herat and Mazar-i-Sharif; I took green tea on red carpets in wayside inns and under mulberry trees; I rode a horse out from Mazar and found a garden of purple poppies in a hidden gully; I saw the crumbled hillocks that were ancient Balkh, the terraced lakes of Band-y-Amir, the green valley of Bamiyan over which those giant Buddhas watched with their faceless calm; I read Michener's Caravans and Kessel's The Horsemen; I saw buzkashi finals in Kabul, goat-corpse polo, with horses like dancing thunder; I ate porridge and hamburgers in tourist shacks with tiny kitchens and enormous menus; I bought lapis lazuli, embroidery, an ancient flintlock; I dropped in on an army camp where amused young soldiers shared their bread-thickened stew with me; once as I ate in an upstairs dining hall a man who had been politely staring caught sight of a curve in my baggy overshirt and said to his friend "Khanum!" ("It's a girl!"). I was alone and never afraid. Someone copped a feel in the market once, I turned on him, he backed away so fast he knocked over a big display tray, the seller yelled, the whole market lane burst into laughter. I love that land. I would go back in a minute, if they want us. God willing, someday they will have peace, and share it with us again.
JJ's plans for the wedding (scuba gear, Siamese carp, etc.) reminds me of one of my favorite Uncle Duke storylines, when he wakes up in a hotel after an apparent plan to assassinate members of the Washington Redskins ownership has gone awry. If I remember right, Duke was struggling to reconstruct a scenario that involved grapefruits, volleyball nets, and a golf cart in the bathtub.
As a veteran of OIF, having taken part in the 2003 ground invasion of Iraq, I remember quite vividly Geraldo Rivera's public ejection from the official press pools after he had broadcast operational information on our frontline troops' positions. He passed back through Camp Virginia in Kuwait thinking he was some sort of movie star, but was met with mockery and derision from the soldiers in the chow hall. But somehow he continues to the present day in his same irresponsible vein, unchanged, unchallenged, unchecked, unbelievable. Ethics? Integrity? Moral responsibility? There is no room for such luxuries in his rucksack. At least Roland Hedley has kept his signature hat all these years...
How sweet life's little victories are -- you burrowed under O'Reilly's skin and stole a bit of his airtime!