My Holiday Family Newsletter
MY FAMILY HOLIDAY NEWSLETTER 2021
The title panel at the top of each of my blog posts is something I’m required to send to Bizarro’s client newspapers but which only a very few newspapers actually use. Whether or not they use it depends on a complicated formula for how they lay out a Sunday comics page in a given market, and how because of this they require we send them a title panel for each of three completely different proportions which require different designs. If you think that sounds complicated you’re right, and if you’re smart you won’t inquire any further; only one person in the world actually understands the complex, Tetris-like process of combining different-sized comic strips to fit neatly on the pages of thousands of markets with different-sized pages, and he’s the inventor of Bitcoin, whose identity is not known.
But back to me, I have a few different Bizarro title panels in which I’ve used the photo of the little boy above. Each time I use one, someone asks me if it is me. And because I’m an honest person I always admit that it is, in spite of the fact that I am embarrassingly dressed as Tucker Carlson, one of the top three persons in the world most dangerous to U.S. democracy.
But I digress; yes, that’s me, taken in about 1959, I think. And it looks just like me, too, if you get rid of most of the hair, add some Leon Trotsky glasses, a grey and black striped beard, and a face that looks as though it’s raised two kids, been dragged through two divorces, had chronic back pain for decades, and spent all last week drinking with friends in Mexico City. Add those things and it looks just like me.
But enough about my rapidly declining looks, this is a holiday newsletter so let me start by saying the Piraro family has had a stellar year and I can’t wait to tell you all about it!
To begin, we are all still alive and happy to be so! Except possibly for my one former brother-in-law who, by the looks of his recent FB posts, seems to wish he were dead. No one asked my opinion but I feel like he could use a little rehab and possibly some penicillin. And definitely a workout routine of some kind. But I probably shouldn’t even be mentioning him in a family newsletter since he’s not really in the family anymore. He’s joined the x-family-member category, one which grows yearly for the Piraro clan, unfortunately. There are some in my family who are alarmed at our seeming inability to keep relationships going much longer than the return date on the wedding tuxedos, but I tell myself it’s because we’re special and special people are sometimes difficult for normal people to be around.
As for my personal two favorite “special” members of the family—my daughters—I’m super happy to report that they had a good year, too! Neither of them declared bankruptcy, got divorced, or were investigated for insurance fraud this past year—not even once! Way to go, gals! I couldn’t be more proud!
And my sisters and their kids and their kid’s kids (wait, do their kid’s kids have kids yet?) are all apparently in tiptop shape, too! If there were anything serious to report, I have no doubt my parents would have told me by now. That’s just the kind of close-knit family we are. I can’t recall how many of them there are on my sisters’ side of the family (I only see them every few years and they refuse to wear name tags) but I love them all as if they were my own. Well, I mean they are blood, so I guess they are my own in a sense. Nonetheless, I love them and wish them a happy holiday, however it is that they celebrate.
Some of you might be wondering how my brother is doing but I’m afraid I can’t answer that. No one has heard from him since he accepted that fraternity pledge challenge to hitchhike across Texas in a Hilary Clinton for President T-shirt.
Which brings me to my parents! I’m thrilled to report that when we last spoke they were both healthy and happy and enjoying life! That was around eight years ago so I’m due to check in again, but they’re creatures of habit so I’ve no doubt they are just the way I left them. Hi Mom and Dad! Happy Holidays! (They’re on this mailing list I’m pretty sure.)
And again back to me—I’m doing great! I’m still enjoying living in Mexico and getting to know the people and culture, and I am grateful every day for all of the blessings I’ve received since Olive Oyl and I moved here five years ago next week!
One of the things about Mexico that is not really what a person would call a blessing, however, is the local funeral culture. Mexico has a lot of people and so a lot of them die apparently every day and when they do, the rest of them want to commemorate that several-times-a-day very common event with a service of some kind. Great, I get it and I can support that; O2 and I have actually participated in a Mexican funeral and we’ve actually found the relationship to death that the Mexicans in our town seem to have is psychologically healthier than our own typically American ones.
So all of that is great but the part where it gets fuzzy for me is that while a Mexican funeral starts out with what any average American would recognize as a funeral—a body in a box, sad people, religious shenanigans—toward the end of that they add to it a background of what I can only describe as insane clown music played over enormous P.A. speakers at Ted-Nugent-level volume. This can sometimes go on for hours. It can also be profoundly painful both physically and aesthetically. And it isn’t music you’d ever hear anywhere else, either, which makes it difficult to describe. It’s a kind of rhythmic, droning, electronic, insane, LSD-tripping, creepy carny clown music that sounds less like something people would willingly subject themselves to than something the CIA has devised to get terrorists to confess. Imagine a scene in a movie where a guy in a straight jacket is squirming around on the floor of a padded cell with brightly colored disco lights of all kinds flashing rapidly and the air filled with a blaring sound meant to melt his brain. THAT’S the music!
Other than that one thing, though, I love Mexico. And so does my beloved wife, Olive Oyl! I’ve saved her for last because unlike so many of the other despicable, disloyal, creepy, unreasonable spouses that I and my family members have endured, she has not packed her bags, cursed me out, or sued me for years in court. Thank you, Olive Oyl! I love you and I love that you did not ruin my year! Happiest of holidays, sweetheart!
And so, to all my Jazz Pickles from the entire Piraro (and other last names of people my sisters have married) Clan, happy holidays or no holidays, whatever you prefer!
(Note: The above newsletter was inspired by the early writings of the brilliant David Sedaris, specifically his short piece, “Season’s Greetings To Our Friends And Family!!!” (Barrel Fever and Other Stories, Little, Brown and Company, 1994) If by some extreme misfortune you are unfamiliar with his work, change that now. My personal favorite collection of his short stories and essays is Naked.)
(Last note, I promise: Here’s a closeup of my favorite part of the above department store cartoon.)
Now let’s find out what my partner, Wayno was up to in his Bizarro cartoons from the week!…
This guy seems unreasonably stupid until you read about Qanon.
That’s the same symbol they use for bacon warnings.
I’d leave it so I could see little mice shooting by every now and then.
God, I hope they didn’t put marshmallows on top of the biohazard casserole this year.
If they really thought you were a good boy, would they be paying for you to go to therapy?
Wayno’s blog post this week has a particularly interesting video from a musical performance in 1970 vaguely related the Bonzo Dog Band. You shan’t want to miss it.
That wraps up this week’s humor murmurs. Thanks for sticking around to the last whispers. If you like that we’re doing this for free and without clickbait and ads, please help us keep it that way forever via one of the links below. We’ll be giggly about it if you do!
Until next time, don’t confuse the menu for the food.
BIZARRO SHOP Fun and cheap!
… Bizarro TIP JAR One-time or repeating. Your choice!
…Signed, numbered, limited edition prints and original Bizarro panels