I gotta get me one of those hills.
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Posts Tagged hubris
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I won’t say that golf is totally counter-intuitive… But there’s an awful lot of stuff to learn if you want to play, and not all of it makes sense on the surface.
Really, even the concept is a little tricky. “Get the ball into that little hole, dozens of yards away? Why don’t I just plunk the first six or seven into that handy lake? That’s what they seem to want to do anyhow.”
I don’t tell my People anything I’m not sincere about.
…Well, that’s not entirely true.
I don’t “have People”.
What about you guys? You got People? Can I be one of your People?
I got your back.
…So long as your back needs some cartooning.
Sorry for the color version posting late. I hope the early readers enjoyed the unadulterated, underestimated, lovely B&W version.
You know at least one of those folks, right? The ones that make you think you’d really like to live as long and as well as they have?
On that note, I have to say that Mr. Lee was that guy for me. He stood around and met the students coming into my kids’ elementary/middle school. I figured he was in his 70’s maybe. Then I found out he had been at the bombing of Pearl Harbor. He was in his late 90s when he died, but up until that last year and after a serious surgery, he was fit and engaged and very much there with us. Amazing.
Mr. Lee, you were amazing for so many reasons. Tip of my hat, sir.
Him, and my buddy Kevin William’s grandfather. I never met him, but I like Kev’s stories about him. It’d be nice if stories like that were told of us, right? I think my stories are going to be more like, “Yeah, he could draw, but by the end, there, he was a’scribblin’ all over the walls of his padded cell and he couldn’t tell ya the days of the week nor nothin’. Still did nice caricatures, though. Like a machine, or somethin’.”
See how hard I work, tying stories together for you guys?
Wool. You don’t dress cranky people in wool.
So far as I know, this is the last Hubris cartoon of 2016. Next week, you get a Christmas image and I get a week to spend with my family. Family includes my brother, so hopefully I’ll have some silly photos before and after I get some ridiculous injury. He’s coordinated and outdoorsy. I try to keep up, but let’s face it… I draw funny pictures. Nice Hand/Eye coordination, but not so much past the wrist or brain stem, y’know?
Y’all have lovely Christmases, and Hannukahs, and Festivuses, and Agnosticas and Winter Solstices and End-Of-The-Tax-Years, and New Yearses. Be good to one another. Be the kinds of people you wish everyone else was. See ya here in 2017.
And here’s the problem with coming up with gags way back in 2000, then running them today. Sixteen years is plenty of time for you to forget that iconic series of commercials upon which the gag here is founded. Do you recall?
‘Triathalon”
I almost spelled it that way in Paste’s word balloon, but it doesn’t look wrong enough. I grew up alongside people who said a lot of words wrong. “Fambly.” “Chimbley.” “Theeatre.” “Nekkid.” “Mathamatics.” “Archaeopteryx.”
Mostly, it’s endearing. Don’tcha think?
If this cartoon seems at all familiar to you… Yeah, that was me with the marker. Thanks for going to get that bib.
