Crash Test Daddy
Something in the above cartoon brings me back to my own toddlerhood in the very early 1960s in a suburb of Kansas City, Missouri called Ruskin Heights. It’s that little blond-wood side table in front of the window. One exactly like it was in my parents’ home when I was born and, not being ones to rush out and replace something that still “works,” they still had it when I left for college 18 years later. Unbeknownst to my folks, by the time they sold it in a garage sale in the late-70s, it was almost in style again as mid-century modern and probably worth a dozen times what they paid for it. Sadly, it probably ended up in some college dropout’s apartment under a pile of pornography and a bong.
Nothing else in the picture is particularly reminiscent of that house except that there was a big window in the front that I used to stand at and watch the boring, suburban street. I was too young, of course, to fully realize how boring it was. We didn’t have a tree that large in the front yard as it was a fairly new housing development, I think, but even if we had, my father would likely never have crashed our car into it as he has always been a meticulous driver. In recent decades, in fact, I’m proud to say he has taught driver safety courses in an AARP program for seniors. (American Association of Retired Persons) He’s a terrifically good teacher and always gets high marks from students.
I’ve never taken one of his courses but I’ve heard a fair amount of his curriculum when I’ve visited. To drive with him now is to hear the occasional teaching point pertaining to the various situations that arise. “It is best to remain twelve car-lengths for every ten miles per hour behind the car in front of you,” he might say. Which pretty much guarantees that every car on the highway is honking as they swerve around you. “Always turn off your turn signal within ten miles of having finished your turn.” Handy advice that I wish more senior drivers would follow. “Remember that if you can’t see the hood of your car, other drivers probably can’t see you.” Stuff like that. The next time you’re frustrated by the way an older driver is behaving in traffic, blame my dad if it makes you feel better.
The cool thing about AARP is that you don’t actually have to be retired to join them and start to cash in on the amazing discounts and special old-folks-treatment that they advertise. You actually only have to be 50 years-old or something like that. I know this because back when I was something like 50-years-old, I joined AARP because, well, why not? It was free and I was going to get discounts. What’s not to like?
Shortly after I signed up online I received a membership packet in the mail. Who but an organization for old people would send out a physical membership packet? I thought membership packets had gone the way of the telephone-that-doesn’t-take-photographs-do-email-or-instantly-connect-to-all-the-accumulated-knowledge-of-the-human-race. The packet included a bunch of written stuff that I didn’t read and a black, nylon fanny pack with a big, blue AARP logo on it. NOW we’re talking!
I wasn’t in the habit of wearing a fanny pack at the time—or Polo shirts with the collar flipped up or anything else that might get me beaten up by hipsters—but maybe it was time for a change! I’d always been a busy guy with lots of projects in the works and maybe wearing this fanny pack would buy me more time to work on the things that were important to me, time that I might otherwise spend dating young, attractive women. I mean, wearing a fanny pack with a giant AARP logo has got to be as effective a birth control device as anything invented in the labs of Big Pharma.
As for the huge discounts, I never got any. Maybe I’m just not buying stuff that is marketed for the senior set, but every time I’d ask at a ticket booth or store counter if there was an AARP discount, they’d look at me with a queasy mixture of confusion, revulsion, and pity; I might as well have been wearing a fanny pack. Eventually, I gave up trying and donated my fanny pack to a home for the fashion defiant.
Now, I don’t mean to trash AARP as an organization so if you’re affiliated and getting all pissed off, put your knitting needles away. As I said above, I didn’t read anything they sent me so who am I to critique their offerings? There’s probably a secret word you’re supposed to use to get the discounts and I would have known that if I’d read the info in the packet. I’m sure AARP does a lot of awesome good for people and, at the very least, they teach them to drive more safely. My dad is 86 and is such an excellent driver that he rarely even has to look where he’s going.
I’m looking where I’m going, though, and it’s straight to this week’s Bizarro cartoons by my partner, Wayno. Follow me if you’re not afraid of reinforcing your laugh lines…
As some “phat” commentators have pointed out, this should have been “thicc” mints. I had to look it up—probably because I qualify to own an AARP fanny pack—and it turns out they’re right. That would have added another layer of humor. I’m not sure if that word is allowed on newspaper comics pages, though. Probably?
This one left some readers scratching their heads and asking what it meant, which made it all the more satisfying for those who got it by themselves. If you’re having trouble with it, it’s probably because you think it’s a monkey. It’s actually Bigfoot, who is not as tall as we’d assumed.
A few months ago I decided to stop drinking daily, which is not something I thought I’d ever say unless I was too drunk to know what I was saying. I’m happy to report, however, that it wasn’t difficult at all. I’ve quit smoking nicotine twice in my life (and will never touch it again!!) and it was sheer hell, 24/7 for months. Giving up whiskey was a breeze. Of course, I still drink socially, so I’ve not given it up entirely, but I’m now having one drink a week instead of one (or two) per day. No idea why I’m telling you this but if you’ve been thinking of trying to drink less, go ahead and try it. It might be easier than you thought.
(I realize that to some people, alcohol is what nicotine is for me and vice versa. We’re all wired differently.)
I’ve also recently given up wearing superhero costumes and swinging around town. That wasn’t too difficult, either.
Wayno has a whole story about this cartoon in his blog post this week in which I play a major role. And also a really fun photo from a prestigious museum that has added a Bizarro cartoon to their collection! Missing this week’s post is not an option.
I’m no expert but I’m convinced he’d have lived longer if his brains hadn’t been scooped out.
That marks the end of our comic demolition derby for this week, Jazz Pickles. Thanks for not leaving at intermission. If you like what you see and that you don’t see ads or clickbait, please help us keep it that way by visiting the links below. We’ll kiss our pillows at night and pretend it is you.
Until next week, remember that most accidents happen in the home so pack your fanny carefully.
BIZARRO SHOP Fun and cheap!
… Bizarro TIP JAR One-time or repeating. Your choice!
…Signed, numbered, limited edition prints and original Bizarro panels