Ever been out in the woods late and you look around into the bushes and see little green glows? I can tell you, it makes you stop and have long conversations about whether green reflections or red reflections are carnivores. Lots to discuss all of a sudden when it’s an hour hike back to the road and you count fifty seven li’l green glows.
Posts Tagged Lowell
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 like the linework in this comic.
There are a lot of ways the lines come out, depending on a lot of stuff.
When the characters are the ones we see all the time, and the action is close up, and there’s no reason to noodle around, the linework is fat and clean.
When I have more random characters, doing something that doesn’t come up much… I can’t help but noodle around. The linework is choppier, more random… but somehow more expressive.
I like that.
Did you ever listen to the comedy albums that made Bob Newhart famous? He had this thing where he’d do half a conversation, and your brain sort of filled in whatever else was needed.
You might also have wondered why I didn’t weigh in so much when everyone was guessing who called Hubris right before lunch. I figured you needed your three guesses.
The cartoons are awfully wordy the last couple of days.
I remember being a kid and reading the newspaper comic strips every day. Not all of them. Doonesbury was one I typically didn’t read because it had too many words. I guess if I wasn’t spoiled for choice, I’d have read it no matter what. Back then, I read anything that had a cartoon aspect to it. Ernie Ball Strings & Things catalogs had a cartoon feature in them of an Eagle and his son explaining the guitar business. I didn’t know diddly about guitars and stuff, but by golly, I read and re-read that stuff ’cause it was well-drawn cartoons.
I saw the Ernie Ball material at my dad’s store over the summer holidays when I was too young to be left on my own, both parents were working and anyone else who could look after my brother and me were otherwise occupied. That’s also where I first saw a Doonesbury treasury book. Big thick book full of comic strips. Amazing. One of the guitar teachers had brought it in. I ignored it as long as I could but after a certain point, it was a book full of comic strips. It had to be read, and I had a summer in a store full of stuff I didn’t know diddly about.
And that’s how I lost my fear of “too-wordy” comic strips. The book was the one where, lost in the midst of all the other cartoons, an American couple adopts a Vietnamese baby, who cries about the black specks in her oatmeal ’til it’s pointed out that they’re just raisins. Doonesbury-style, she looks back into the bowl thinking, “I thought that was shrapnel.” The baby’s name was Kim. I’m convinced that she eventually became the Kim that Mike Doonesbury married and started the Mikim company with. That comic strip has been telling stories for a long, long time.
Makes Hubris’ six years and piddly few words seem like a drop in the ol’ bucket.





















