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"it was a joy, young lady." Yes, Zonker, and for all of us readers. Although unconventional and sometimes more than a bit illegal, you were always ready to help Sam and her family. You gave her some values that reach farther out than the ordinary. You were never degrading to her, but always there on the same level. This departure is a milestone in her life.
I have a feeling this might be the first sign of the final breaking of the Fellowship of Walden. I wonder if GBT is moving towards retirement.
Sometimes you don't need social or political commentary to be brilliant. Sometimes it is just the human side. Today's strip, in which Sam thanks Zonker for raising her, is one of those times. Thank you, and congratulations on such a masterful, touching end to his week's series.
While I always enjoy Doonesbury immeasurably, the Flashback strip from 15 years ago made me laugh out loud. And thanks for the clarification on the "stinkin' badges" meme, which I often use.
I cried, darn it! Of course I'm a Sam too.
Thanks, Doonesbury. Thanks for making me bawl my eyes out first thing in the morning. Yes, Zonker's an unconventional nanny and, I'm sure, maddening to live with. But as Sam's family struggled with the aftermath of B.D. losing his leg -- and she confessed to Alex, Zonker's former charge, that she was scared of her father -- my first thought was that those two girls could have had a worse caregiver. A perpetual adolescent, Zonker got his first-ever Real Life Job for these people. And now I find that I'm not so interested in his upcoming adventure and probable reversion to full-on man-child as much as how his going will affect the family he's left behind.
There is always the keen observation, the masterful satire and the razor sharp wit, while behind it all rolls on the quiet saga of the Doonesbury world that forms the backdrop and the grounding of it all. And you rarely notice it, for as it is with those you know, their history is always with you. Though at times recollection must be pushed hard to turn back the pages, I know who you were, but to me you are always as you are now. But then a chance remark, a fleeting snatch of music, and I remember another time, another place, another you, with fondness, with love and deep gratitude for the privilege of sharing your journey. "Thank you for raising me, Zonker." And I remember a baby girl who stared steadfast into the night sea: "No, no, one more, one more!" Thank you, GBT.
Nice Treasure of the Sierra Madre reference! "We don't need no stinkin' badges" is the most famous line of the film, and has become a meme.
Like many beloved phrases, this one has evolved into its ideal form. What the Mexican bandit Gold Hat actually said in the film was "Badges? We ain't got no badges. We don't need no badges! I don't have to show you any stinkin' badges!"
Wow, Zonker. Leaving one or two items behind is forgetfulness, but this level of brain fade can mean only one thing. You are officially a Burnout. Too many brain cells on the injured list. Head back to California, you can't survive in the real world.
Welcome to Colorado, Zonker. Assuming you find your way here. And welcome to the cover of our alt weekly, Westword.
Nice Robert Frost reference!
Oddly enough, I'm on the same road trip. I will be watching for Zonker and nephew at the Denver Rally on 4/20. GBT is on the cutting edge here, folks.
To be happy in this life we must each strive to find our own passion. I like to think that Zonker has merely had his passion outlawed for most of his life. This move to Colorado may just be his turn to truly shine as he finally finds a place to live his life with intention, in the pursuit of happiness. And if Colorado doesn't work out, he can always move in with Mike here in Washington State while he gets his grow up and running. We legalized it here too, in case you hadn't heard.
Ah, The Long Strange Strip rides again. Or possibly Nephew of Long Strange Strip. Whichever, I always love it. Remember, Zip, wherever you are, there you go.
So Zonker heads out on another road trip. Call me when he finds America.
"Cheer down" is a phrase I first heard on a George Harrison record about twenty-five years ago. It's a relief to not be the sole occupant of Obscure Desultory Cultural Detritus Island.
It is Sunday morning. It's a gray day. The bird feeder is empty (with birds staring towards the house, waiting for the bird seed from the sky) and the day was looking singularly unattractive. Then I clicked on Today's Video and was transported from bleary Michigan to someplace where rain is composed of beautiful voices and stunning poetry. I come to the site for my daily dose of snarkish insight, but sometimes, like today, you give me beauty. Thanks.
Jeb could improve the family name by calling for war crime charges against Dubya.