This guy’s brain might be fine, but…what in the world happened to his mouth? He’s got skin above the chin, but no opening through which he might shovel food. At first, I thought panel one was a drawing error, but then I took a closer look at panels three and four and…this fellow has no mouth. He had a mouth in previous strips, and he may yet have a mouth in future strips, but as of today he’s all face.
Archive for April, 2011
A few weeks ago, I asked to take a vacation day on Friday, April 29. Little did I know that the royal wedpocalypse was scheduled for that same day. Had I bothered to turn on the TV this morning, I would have surely been inundated with images of Prince William and Kate Middleton at their ceremonious best. Instead, I went for a short run and enjoyed a sunny spring day in Chicago. My heart was pounding when I got home, and that certainly wouldn’t have been the case had I tuned in to BBC America. There are some things worth waking up at 5:00am for; the crowning of a princess is not one of them.
Somewhere along the line, I made an enemy of my neighbor’s dog. For months after he arrived, this little yipper made a habit of barking at me as I walked to the garage in the morning. Then I started petting him and calling him by name, and he managed to chill out. But a few weeks ago, I made the mistake of running alongside the fence and scaring the bejeezus out of him. Now, not only does he bark at me, but he growls the low, guttural growl of a dog that means business. Fortunately, he’s far too small to do any real damage. Still, his angry barks are more than a little unsettling.
A few weeks ago, I started reading Born to Run: A Hidden Tribe, Superatheletes, and the Greatest Race the World Has Never Seen by Christopher McDougall. Aside from being hugely entertaining, it’s given me new insight into footwear, particularly athletic shoes. I’ve never bought the latest, most outlandish pairs of sneakers, and now I see my thriftiness has been medically prudent. The heroes of McDougall’s book, a group of fanatical and thoroughly insane ultrarunners, wear shoes so threadbare that they barely cushion their feet from impact. Some of the runners even go barefoot. What’s fascinating is that their feet get stronger because their simple shoes don’t interfere with the natural motion of running. I’ve spent the last two years bumming around in a pair of ratty New Balance sneakers. Who knew I was saving my feet by being too cheap to replace them?
That’s one expensive fin the shark in this strip is sporting; expensive because it’s made out of solid gold, because gold now trades at more than $1,500 an ounce, and because gold has no real, inherent value. I suspect the reason gold is so expensive is that investors fear the dollar will collapse, leaving them with boatloads of worthless currency. I’m no economist, but isn’t gold simply another currency that can lose its value as rapidly as the dollar (or the Euro, or the Yen)? If the economy collapses, nobody is going to assign value to gold. We’ll assign value to water, food, shelter, and electricity. If I wanted to prepare for an economic apocalypse, I’d invest in the things people can’t afford to live without.
My cat is getting up there in years (15 to be exact), and he’s having trouble jumping up on the bed. Every once in a while, he leaps from the floor in the dark, fails to grab hold of anything with his claws, and then tumbles back to the hardwood with a giant thud. Every time he does this, I laugh. Then, of course, I feel bad about laughing, lean over to scoop him up, and sit him down at the edge of the mattress. In recent weeks, he’s started to take stock of his declining abilities, and has taken to using a small chest at the foot of the bed so he won’t have to jump so high. My wife wants to get him a set of kitty stairs to make the trek even easier for him, but I can’t support that. Our cat still knows how to jump, and the more he does it, the better he’ll be at it. Maybe if we left a piece of steak on the blanket…
I didn’t grow up in a particularly religious family, so Easter was always something of a non-event for me. Sure, I got an Easter basket and attended church (every few years), but that was about it. I was also put off by the fact that Easter fell on a different day each year. All of the other holidays stood still, so why did this one have to move around? But I suspect the biggest factor playing into my antipathy toward Easter had to do with the time of year. March and April happen to be my least favorite months; they’re cold, rainy, muddy, and uninspiring. Sure, chocolate bunnies and being saved help sweeten the pot, but early spring in Chicago is still nothing to celebrate.