Tag Archives: moms

Mom’s Money

To those who claim they are literate, educated and erudite, you should be ashamed of yourself for reading this comic. But please don’t stop – it gives me some kind of validation and sense of self worth.

After this week’s tragic events, there is no really easy way to deal with it. So with my psychological defenses and coping mechanisms, I will do what I usually do — and that is turn to humor. It’s pure distraction in my case, and it usually leads to me sitting in front of the computer and cartooning and, of course, eating and thinking of future episodes of the comic once referred to by the Dadaist painter Man Ray as “some garbage my eight-year old could do if he had been born with the umbilical cord around his neck.”

I spent a fair bit of time recently doodling on the computer, placing and drawing the characters, thinking of future episodes and dialogue, and then rationalizing how I could dream up dialogue this bizarre, and of course noshing on sugary things. Given the half-dozen so called choco-chip cookies I ingested with the speed and haste of the ancient Israelites hoofing it through the Red Sea on their way to the Land of Milk and Falafel, I may petition the drug companies to merge with the plumbing cabals of the world to come up with a clog removal product for my arteries that dissolves in butter or is coated in chocolate. Because that is likely the only way that anything will get inside my arteries.

But I digress.

As I was driving around this morning doing errands I heard a report about the best time of year to diet, which as it turns out is winter. It seems humans burn the bad fat we accumulate better in winter so we can keep warm and thus lose weight. And winter, at least in the northern (a.k.a. good) hemisphere, is often associated with endings that lead to new beginnings. Then again, with global warming I don’t see us being in for much of a cold winter any time soon, so that opportunity to burn bad fat seems to be going up in coal-fired smoke. And furthermore, why do we diet? To stave off death? No, so we can wear the clothes hanging in our closets that we think we look cool in, or once did. We diet to ensure a future wearing past clothes. Strange, no?

So when you read and subsequently recoil in horror at this episode of Stanko & Tibor, think of the future, of your loved ones, the arguments you have had with them, the future they hold, especially the younger ones who will one day choose your retirement “castle”. Think of the past they have misspent and how it made you laugh and cry. And then hug them. Or bear hug them if you don’t like them. Or retreat into humor and eat a chocolate or cinnamon danish. With icing.

May your slide into the new year occur without any twisted joints.

Archbishop Jonny of the Assiniboine Herald of the Canadian Heraldic Authority

The Birthday Gift – Sort Of

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How does one pay homage to a parent? Is it through hugs and kisses? Is it by lionizing their great achievements and holding them up as an example for others to follow? Could it even be just making them a nice supper once a week and saying “thanks for being there when I scraped my knee as a kid”.

Sure, any of those simplistic answers would do, but I prefer to use the power of art and imagery, and possibly some backhanded humor. It’s way more complicated but I can use it at dinners with the family and friends to point out mom’s particular habits. Like being obsessed with never lea ing out chicken on a counter for more than 8 or 9 milliseconds, heaven forbid we all die of salmonella or some such food-borne illness.

And I guess that is what a good parent does – he or she prevents us from injury, illness or death where possible some can contribute to society later on. In this case it is most certainly my mom playing the role of the protector, because my dad would let me play with a plugged in hair dryer while standing in a metal bucket of water, as the sword of Damocles, probably rusted, swung over my head.

This particular episode of the illustrated comic gem cryptically called Stanko & Tinor, once deemed by The Society for the Protection of Cruelty to Animals as being a visual assault on all living creatures on this planet, aims to pay back some of that protective love and nurturing of my maternal unit, that led to the publishing (and printing and framing) of this humorous piece of my life. Sure, I could have the money for a proper gift, or even put it towards the heated storage unit I’ll put her in one day, but that would prove that she did too good a job of parenting. Can’t let it get to her head.

Keep reading, keep thinking, and keep fermenting and never let your boss tell you what to do. Unless he or she signs your pay checks. Then grovel politely.

Mucho love from Monsieur Jean de Exupéry