Our Memories Aren't Quite What They Used to...wait what was I saying? 03/08/24

Sometimes we get ideas out of thin air. Mostly from experience. And occasionally, from a reader’s experience. In this case a good buddy of mine, Peter Samberg, an excellent lawyer, has become an adjunct professor of Law at Mercy University, or more accurately, Legal Studies Program Coordinator, Mock Trial (in other words, adjunctpProfessor). He actually made a reference to everybody’s favorite lawyer, Joe Pesci in “My Cousin Vinny.” As it turns out, Pesci is everybody’s favorite lawyer who is older than 50. I mean c’mon now. who among us doesn’t remember “two yoots?” But in this case, when the good professor brought up a legal argument made in “My Cousin Vinny” he was met with a classroom full of blank stares. I’ve heard that from other adjunct professors I know. Any attempt at a cultural reference that has great meaning to us, has little or no meaning to them. Now to be fair, it works both ways. Case in point, I took my family to see “Hamilton” when it opened. When the epic duel happens, they sing a song “Ten Duel Commandments.” My son calmly turned to me and said, “Oh, he’s riffing off ‘The Ten Crack Commandment’ by the Notorious B.I.G.” Huh? Oh yeah. Of course. I knew that.

Our other effort this week happened when John and I asked each other how many telephone numbers we remember. Not many. And here’s the thing: I have an almost photographic memory for numbers. Before the cell phone became ubiquitous, I worked in a smallish (is that even a word?) ad agency of about 200 or so people. Everybody had a 4-digit extension attached to the agency’s main number. I still remember mine, X 5169. But here’s the thing. I knew almost everyone’s 4 digit extension. Seriously, people would come up to me and ask, “What’s Jessica’s extension?”And I knew. But now, no way. And it’s got nothing to do with aging. For example John and I call each other multiple times each week. Neither of us has any idea what the other guy’s number is. Why? Because of our damn cell phones. There’s no reason to remember anyone’s number. It’s just, “Hey Siri, call John.” But what happens if your cell phone dies? Those same phones give students no real reason to know their times tables in math. “Hey Siri, what’s 12 multiplied by 2?” These are all lost arts. But supposedly when your phone performs all these tasks, it frees your mind up for more conceptual thinking, like “I wonder what I’m gonna make for lunch?” Or “If I leave the house at 3:30 I’ll have plenty of time to get to the dentist’s office for my 4:15.”

Anyway, have a great weekend. I am off for a mid-week golf trip ‘cause that’s what you can do when you stop working a full-time job. I hope I remember my phone.

Andy and John

Give Us a Break, It's Summer! 08/11/23

Over the years we’ve brought you comics on topics like political correctness, forgetting why you walked into a room, parenthood, grandparenthood, marriage, divorce, bad dates, kids moving out of the house, etc. So this week we decided to take a page out of the Seinfeld playbook and write about…nothing. Yep, an ice cream truck and an inattentive waitress. That’s about as nothing as you can get. Except for the waitress part. We don’t know about you, but we have noticed over the years an increasing amount of inattentiveness and/or lack of eye contact from people who are supposed to serve us. Like cashiers, grocery store shelf stockers, restaurant hosts and hostesses, maitre d’s, you name it. Well, you don’t have to name it. We just did. There are a number of possibilities for this, some more painful than others. One is that young people (like the above-named workers) tend to ignore older people (like a lot of our audience, and us). Many years ago, we did a comic based on an actual incident that happened to a friend of mine who shall go nameless. He tried to chat up the hostess so that she’d seat his foursome, after they had been waiting at the bar for some interminable time. Upon approaching the hostess, she said, “Let me see…” and as she ran her finger down the list of guests, she stopped at the following description, “Bald guy, glasses, 4.” Then she turned to my friend who shall still go nameless and said, “You’re the next party of 4.” This is how she saw him. Ouch. It’s almost as bad as being called “Sir.” “Sir” is just another name for “old guy.” “Right this way, sir” is not what I want to hear when I’m being led to a table by a young woman. How about, “Over here, hot stuff,” or something like that?

So that is one possibility for the lack of eye contact. The other is something I like to refer to as “millennial indifference,” or “MI.” This certainly does not apply to all millennials, but it’s still a generational trait. You approach a cashier and they say, “$49.95,” without ever making eye contact. Or they answer a question by saying “aisle 4,” while pointing to it but not ever once making eye contact with you. Or my favorite, you go the grocery store and the cashier not only doesn't help you pack your recyclable grocery bags, he or she hands over the receipt without once registering where your hand is to receive said receipt. I have a method for dealing with this particular slight. I simply stand there, holding my grocery bag open, without reaching for the receipt, until the cashier is forced to make eye contact. Then I politely say, “Will you put it in the grocery bag please?” This is a technique I like to call “the silent schmuck.” It’s when you say a sentence and leave the word “schmuck” off the end. Example, “Have you seen my glasses?” And the answer, a classic silent schmuck, is “Uhh they’re right on top of your head…” fill in the blank.

Our other effort about nothing this week is about paying too much. In other words, sticker shock. Try going out for sushi in the Hamptons some time. But in this case it’s about a friend you used to know from work, trying his or her hand at something else. It’s one thing that Al has become successful at running his Pizza-on-a-Stick franchise and quite another when his friend charges him almost $50 bucks for a couple ice cream cones. But hey, at least the friend made great eye contact.

Have a great weekend and we will see you (virtually) next week with a brand new 4-part series.

Andy and John

On Millenials and Boomers. 07/28/23

This isn’t entirely new news. Millenials and Boomers have a tough time figuring each other out. So to the millennial readers we have out there, sorry if we don’t capture you exactly. Whaddya want? We’re boomers. I mean we sort of get it. You guys want a balance between work and your personal life and we just want to work, work, work. Well some of us want to work, work, work. And I, for one, am happy to hide behind the hard-working image of my generation while I stretch my arms to get out of bed no earlier than 9 a.m. In other words, maybe I’m a secret millennial (just add another 40-50 years to me, shake, stir and there you have it).

So Miguel kicked some butt, the cash registers rang, but some of Miguel’s millennial employees weren't too happy about it. If truth be told, we remember many a weekend we were asked to come in and work, and many times we were not happy about that either. In fact, I remember one time the ad agency I worked for hired a new hot-shot writer. The first week he arrived in New York, he was asked to work the 4th of July weekend and he wasn't too happy about it. So, he literally bought a few bags of sand into the office and spilled it out onto his office floor, put a beach umbrella in the sand and a beach chair and worked in that environment in his office (remember offices?). Unfortunately for him, the powers that be didn’t appreciate his stunt or the clean up bill that followed his stunt, and he was soon sent packing back to wherever it was he came from in the first place.

So while the first comic is about millennial work ethic (an oxymoron if there ever was one), the second one is about boomer fashion (another oxymoron if there ever was one). What is it about belonging to a certain generation that draws you to different fashion choices? Well one thing is that Boomers remember what it was like to be cool and hippie-like. The height of cool was hanging out at the beach. Now it also is true that as we get older, our bodies tend to settle and become a little less supple than they used to be. So what about a brand that specializes in loose, flowing beach styles, that also hides our stomachs? Voila! Welcome to Tommy Bahama. As I write this, let it be known that I would never stoop to such an obvious choice. Well, except for the Tommy Bahama beach chairs, Tommy Bahama beach umbrellas and a couple of Tommy Bahama, loose-flowing shirts, that’s it. I am certainly not a walking Tommy Bahama ad. Nor does John want to be known as a Ralph Lauren Polo model. We refuse categorization (except for the approximately 10 shirts I own from Untuckit). Okay Boomer?

Enjoy the end of July in whatever style you wear and to you millennials, if your boss makes you work over a summer weekend, don’t cover the floor with sand. It’s not worth it. Take a hint from us. Just call in sick (from the beach).

Have a great (non-working) weekend and we’ll see you next week with two new ones.

Andy and John

Here Comes Summer. 05/19/23

If you’ve gotten this far, you’ve likely seen both of today’s comics already. One dealt (mercifully) with Al’s final game as an ump. And the other deals with Marv settling in for the season with his new backyard setup. But first a word about the strip. Well it seems that Andy (that’s me) turned 70 last week, which begs the question, can a 70-year old still write about life in your 60’s? And the answer is, hell yeah. And John is still squarely in his 60’s. I can hear you 60 somethings sitting back there saying, I still play tennis while you play pickleball, I ride a real bike while you ride an e-bike, I walk 18 holes, blah, blah, blah. Let me tell you something, I can do everything you 60-year olds can do. Just not quite as well. And to tell the truth, I haven’t yet tried pickleball. Besides, as John points out, Charlie Brown never aged, nor did Lucy, or Popeye. And neither did Beetle Bailey, Dagwood Bumstead or for that matter, Dick Tracy. So the New 60 will continue to be the New 60, and besides, John is 5 years younger. And he plays tennis. And rides a real bike. Far. Which gets us back to summer.

Sure Al tried his hand at umping the boys of summer, but a brutal collision at home plate, getting barreled over by an aggressive 8-year old, ends his newest career path. Which is a good thing, because sooner or later he was bound to call his grandson Billy out at the plate, and who knows where that would’ve gone? Actually we do, but we’re not telling.

And then there’s Marv in his new backyard setup. When you have dreams like building a pool, buying a sports car or (in my wife’s case) traveling to Bhutan, if you don’t do it now, when are you gonna do it? Now is the time to go for it. Unless you’re like the long-suffering fans of the old Brooklyn Dodgers who, upon losing to the hated Yankees year after year (except for 1955 when they finally beat them), adopted the famous slogan, “Wait ‘til next year.”

Have a wonderful weekend, and we’ll be back next week with two new ones.

Andy and John

Will it Last? 12/09/22

Anybody remember the movie, “Diner?” It takes place in Baltimore and one of the characters makes his girlfriend pass an impossible quiz on the Baltimore Colts and Johnny Unitas (yes, that’s where they played before slinking off to Indianapolis), before the guy would propose to her. It was a test. Just like the one Craig is giving to Cynthia. How cool is she on a road trip? Is she relaxed enough to eat Slim Jims and peanut butter crackers, and Funyuns? Or is she going to be the kind of woman who only eats organic superfoods and drinks only unsweetened black tea? And in her mind she’s wondering how cranky Craig will be. And how much fun. Road trips are like that. You stop at McDonald’s even if you’ve never otherwise stopped at McDonald’s before. You sleep in motels you wouldn't otherwise dream of staying in. You need a sense of adventure, a sense of humor, and you have to be able to compromise. Just telling you, dear readers, that I possess none of the above qualities. I’ve been on only one road trip with John and that was to a comic show at a Greenwich museum and I can vouch that he wasn't the least bit cranky. Here’s a way we’re different: John, who’s more likely to roll with the punches, came up with the idea for grape Nehi sodas. I, for one, would only drink an orange Nehi, never a grape Nehi. Never. And if you’re not from New York, like my wife (who hails from Pittsburgh), you’ve never heard of Nehi in the first place. Trust me, you’re better off. You know the kind of cloying, artificial “grape” flavor in a grape Tootsie Pop? Well take that X 10 and you’ve got the taste of a Nehi Grape Soda. John’s extra touch of the ice bucket was both funny and extremely necessary. If you think a Nehi grape soda is barf-worthy to begin with, imagine drinking it warm from the machine. Not good.

In any case Craig and Cynthia have so much in common. And next week, we will find out how it all turns out between our two new lovebirds. But ‘til then, hold your collective breath. Or don’t. Because you might pass out and we want you to keep on reading.

One other note, our anthology book of comics, which many of you have inquired about, is now scheduled to come about sometime next Spring. I know, we promised the holidays, but maybe the holiday is more Memorial Day than Christmas. Anyway, we will be sure to let you know. Have a great weekend,

Andy and John

Relationships 12/02/22

So it’s already December. Where does the time go, and how come we keep getting older each year? Anyway, this week we start a 5-part series on our confirmed bachelor, Craig, and the new “love of his life,” Cynthia. Our guess is we all know someone like Craig. Good looking, intelligent, fit. And the question is: why does he or she remain single? Is it because they want to be single? Or is it because they haven’t met the right person yet? Or are they unwilling to compromise? John and I have each been married almost 40 years, so we are not the best examples. But what about Craig, is he ready to take the plunge? I was once a single guy around 27 or 28 and met a girl who was interviewing at a place I used to work. I saw her lingering in the hallway and struck up a conversation and there was an immediate chemistry. So I asked her out on a date. She was of a similar age and she had been through enough failed romances that she wasn’t messing around anymore. She knew what she wanted (at least she thought she did) and if you didn't meet her checklist, you were toast. Of course I didn't know any of this until I arrived at her apartment for our first (and last) date. She greeted me at the front door and before she put her coat on to go outside, she handed me a list. A literal list of all the qualities she sought in a man she’d be willing to have a relationship with. I kid you not. The lucky man would have to (now this was a long time ago, so my memory’s a bit foggy) love pets, not smoke cigarettes, not drink to excess, be neat, enjoy long walks in nature, etc. For those of you who know me, I don’t respond well to people giving me orders. And yes, I still smoked a pack every 2 or 3 days. Not much, but enough to disqualify me. By the way, I officially stopped smoking on June1, 1986, the day my daughter (my first child) was born, but I was being given a list the second I walked in the door and didn't like it. What I did is sit down in a chair and read the list. Then I pulled a fresh pack of cigarettes out of my jacket and proceeded to hit the front of the pack against my palm, packing the tobacco. She said, “What are you doing?” I explained I was a light smoker and also that I hadn’t grown up with a pet and so was not a natural with dogs. She asked me to please put the cigarettes away and I said, “I don’t think this is gonna work out.” She full-heartedly agreed and we never even went to dinner. True story. But the point is, the older you get, the more rigid you become in your ways. It was Match.com before Match.com existed.

I’m reminded of the Pina Colada song where a bored husband responds to a classified ad saying, “if you like Pina Coladas, taking walks in the rain…” the guy answers the ad saying he loves all those things and plans to meet surreptitiously in a bar at midnight. When he gets there he finally meets the woman who wrote the ad, his wife. Or as Joni Mitchell once brilliantly wrote, “Don’t it always seem to go, you don’t know what you want ‘til it’s gone?” When you’re in your 60’s you think you know what you want, like Craig thinks he knows and Cynthia thinks she knows. Will she be the one? Will Craig listen to his heart instead of his head? Stay tuned. There’s three more comics coming.

Have a great weekend and we’ll see you next week as the road trip continues.

Andy and John

Sucker of the Month Club. 10/28/22

In the past few blogs we have covered hacking, phishing and getting all your personal financial information stolen. What fun. I could write more about it but I don’t know anything more. Otherwise I wouldn’t have gotten hacked in the first place. So let us concentrate on our second comic, which deals with monthly subscriptions. No not the kind like you have for People Magazine. The kind of subscription we’re talking about is the “Sign up now for Disney+ to see the movie of the hit Broadway show Hamilton for the low, low price of $6.99” type of subscription. I certainly fell for that one. And if you’re like me, you write yourself a note to cancel said subscription at the end of the month, and then promptly forget to do so. Some 18 months later you notice the $6.99 monthly charge and go about cancelling but then you find out Season 3 of Ted Lasso is coming up soon so…

I once remember reading about the most contentious divorce case in U.S history. I don’t see how anything could be more contentious than the John Wayne and Lorenna Bobbit case when she sliced off his…anyway, this particular case was contentious as well. It featured a multibillionaire and his wife who was suing him for most of the profits. The reason to bring this up is because he made his billions selling subscriptions to just about anything you could think of. Subscriptions to pens, razors, perfumes, pipe tobacco, cheeses, fruits, etc. Studies have shown that a huge percentage of people who sign up for a subscription keep paying for it in perpetuity.

In our house for instance we have a subscription for clean sponges. Four new ones every two months. As well as for the traveling Quip toothbrush replacement brush heads and replacement batteries. Spotify, all those streaming services like Hulu and HBO+ we pay extra for because we still have cable, and on and on and on. Did you notice that whenever there’s a “+” sign it means that you will now have to pay extra for what you were already paying for? Here’s two more ridiculous examples. We have a music service called Deezer which, like Spotify, costs about $9.99 per month, but promises better audio quality. But my wife listens to a lot of podcasts and Deezer doesn’t carry one she loves. So she signed up for Spotify. Instead of the one person plan for $9.99 there was a family plan for $12.99. She signed and said I could now stop paying for Deezer. I said, “Cool,” and promptly forgot to cancel Deezer. Now we pay a total of $22.98 for what used to cost us $9.99. I know, I’ll get around to it. She also gifted me her Amazon Kindle and mentioned she took a $9.99 monthly subscription and I could read any book in their catalogue (much like Spotify). I said great and then tried to cancel it, but have no idea how to do so.

I think John does not suffer from the same foolishness because he’s the one that knew about the app that gathers all your subscriptions in one place, and unlike Al, he didn’t forget the password. So that is all she wrote for this week. Stay tuned for next Friday when we do the first two parts of a 3-part adventure travel series. This is precisely the kind of thing people our age engage in, as long as their neck/back/foot/migraine/shoulder/elbow/ankle pain doesn't get in the way.

See you then. Oops, got to answer the door. It’s time for my water of the month delivery.

Andy and John

Stevie and James 07/22/22

So the SOS (Saga Of Stevie) finally comes to an end. Yes, Sid has a significant other named Stevie. And no, Stevie does not turn out to be a boy. And yes, Sid’s Uncle Tim, who is gay, was wrong in thinking Stevie might be a man and Sid might be gay. In talking to some readers about the comic, a couple of people (one who is in her 40’s, for crying out loud) didn’t understand the term gay-dar. As a public service, allow us to explain. Gay-dar is a portmanteau, (a mash-up of gay and radar). It refers to the ability to tell if another person is gay or not. Tim thought it was certainly possible Sid was gay, and when it turned out Sid was straight, Al took a jab at Uncle Tim’s gay-dar. Capiche? Given that most of our readership tends to be on the other side of 50, we wondered how they might react to wondering about the sexuality of their grown children. I know of a dad whose teenage son, in an all-boys boarding school, wondered if he was gay. The dad gave (in my opinion) a beautiful response, saying something to the effect of “It wouldn’t matter to me either way. I would love you just the same if you were gay or straight and you and someone you love and who loves you back will always be welcome here with open arms. The only thing we care about is your happiness.” The kid said thanks, but here’s the kicker. Years later when he knew he was straight, he got angry with his dad and said, “Why didn’t you tell me I was straight in the first place!” So even when you do the right thing, it turns out wrong. That’s part and parcel of being a parent. Let’s hope Sid and Stevie live happily ever after. As an interesting aside, John and I were debating what this woman’s name should be. We went through all the names that could belong to both men and women, and after suggesting the obvious ones like Sam, Pat and Alex, I remembered my own son once dated a girl named Stevi (no “e” at the end) and that sealed the deal.

Our second strip of the week (first on your scroll) featured a concert that John attended with his wife at Tanglewood. For those of you who have never been there or heard of it (think Ravinia, for our midwestern readers) it’s an outdoor concert venue featuring classical music with a few classic folk singers sprinkled in from time to time. In John’s case, he and his wife Linda attended a James Taylor concert early this summer. These things tend to be massive gatherings of older people (I think you get a free pass if you can prove you attended Woodstock) carrying coolers, backpacks, ice bags, wine, cheese and maybe a marijuana vape pen (or two). The tendency most of us have is to look around and think, look at all these old people, before realizing, wait, what do we look like to them? This is also true of the apartment building I moved into 8 years ago with my wife. It isn’t billed as a 55+ community, but clearly it is one. When they had an open house, I whispered to my wife, “Look how old these people are,” before realizing what we looked like to them (impossibly young and beautiful). But back to the comic, John and I talked about what would be the most distinguishing feature of a person attending a (pick one) James Taylor, Steely Dan, Allman Brothers, Michael McDonald concert and we landed upon the bald guy with a ponytail. Yeah, we get it, you used to be cool as hell, but now, you’re 65. Truth be told, I considered the look myself but then decided to go the route of a shaved head and two-day growth of beard. I made the mistake of doing this one summer when we sent our kids off to sleep-away camp. When it came time for Visiting Day, they took one look at me … and burst into tears. Who was this strange man? And what happened to dad? I relented and went back to my Larry David look, clean shaven with messy hair on the sides. And I’ll let you in on a secret. It’s much easier to shave everyday than to maintain the two-day growth look. Or you can go John’s way and do the full-beard, mountain-man look. I’d consider that myself, except I’m way too sloppy of an eater as it is, and the visual of me chowing down a pepperoni pizza with a thick beard is not a pretty image.

So that’s it for this week and we will see you next week with two new ones, hot off the press.

Andy and John.

Do's and Don'ts While Dining Out

Let’s face it, sports talk and dating and dining usually don’t mix. But don’t worry, because in our case they’re the subject of two completely unrelated comics. Let’s go with the genesis of the first comic (second in your scroll), about refraining from sports talk when you go out with company. A couple of months ago, my wife and I went out to dinner with another couple to a loud restaurant. In an effort to not make it boys sitting across from each other and girls sitting across from each other, I suggested mixing it up so the husband of one couple faced the wife of the other, and vice versa. This resulted in each couple talking across each other and since it was hard to hear in the first place, well… you get the idea. Epic fail, as the millennials would say. Put another way, my idea was a bad idea. At one point I was hogging the conversation, rambling on about politics, when my wife subtly smashed my foot under the table, to which I replied, “Oww, why’d you do that???” On recounting this tale to John, we reworked it so Al and Joanne made a pre-dinner deal that he wasn’t allowed to dominate the conversation with sports talk. Sports, politics, same idea. John came up with the idea of making a pre-dinner deal on the way to the restaurant. When I saw how well that worked out in the comic, I decided that it was a good idea to try at home from now on. I’ll let you know how that works.

Our other comic deals with a phenomenon that you see in fancy places. Older, distinguished-looking men with considerably younger women. I observed such a pair when going out to a special dinner in NYC with friends. Both of us guys were celebrating our birthdays. When we got seated, I noticed a banquette in front of me, with an older guy, replete with a three-piece suit, tie, pocket square, and cufflinks. If I’m calling him old, suffice it to say, he appeared as if his best days were behind him. Suddenly a cute young woman, in her late 20’s at most, slides into the banquette beside him. Hmm, I said, to my companions, check this out. We weren’t sure if he was in a second marriage and this was his daughter, or whether he was married only once and it was his granddaughter. Then she scoots over right next to him, puts her arm around his shoulder and starts whispering into and kissing his ear. And I, master of the obvious, said, that is not his granddaughter. The ending of the comic kinda wrote itself (John hates when I say things like this, because if it wrote itself, you wouldn’t need us). So it didn’t write itself but the situation was so perfect we didn’t have to do too much to alter the reality of it. My wife and my friend’s wife said Something like, “Ewww, gross,” and my friend and I readily agreed just how absolutely gross it was (nudge, nudge, wink, wink). Well, that’s it except for one final coda to the story. When we left the restaurant, the snuggling couple was still there, and my wife took a look at the young lady on our way out. When we got on the sidewalk, she told me, “By the way, she was not his girlfriend. Did you notice the huge rock on her finger? (No, I was looking elsewhere). She’s married to him.”

And with that, have a great weekend and a happy July.

Andy and John

On the Joy of Baseball Day Games and Click Clack 05/06/22

So many things we used to play with as children have now been reconsidered as hazardous. I am reminded of a scene from Mad Men. Sally Draper, daughter of Don and Betty, was having a good time, running around with a plastic, dry cleaning bag over her head. Her mom, Betty Draper, possibly the worst mom in the history of television (June Cleaver she wasn't) calls her daughter over to chastise her. But what comes out of her mouth is “If the clothes that were in that dry cleaning bag are on the floor of my closet, you are going to be one unhappy young lady!” It was with that type of empathy and foresight that the makers of Click Clack must have tapped into when inventing their product. It was two acrylic balls attached at the opposite ends of a piece of string. When you flipped your wrist up and down the balls would click together at the top of their arc and then clack at the bottom. Click, clack, it went faster and faster until, oops, the acrylic balls had a previously undisclosed tendency to shatter, sending shards of sharp acrylic pieces flying through the air. As the saying goes, what could possibly go wrong?

The other comic at the baseball game, that scene actually happened to me. Or something close to that. I went to a midweek afternoon game, my favorite kind, just me and thousands of brightly t-shirted camp kids, and randomly started a conversation with another guy two seats to my right. The seat between us was empty. Somewhere in about the third inning I heard somebody in the row in back of me address his friend by his full name. I recognized the name so I turned around and saw not one, not two, not three, but four guys I used to work with, including the guy who initially hired me. I was happy to see them but mortified that I was there by myself. I wondered what they were thinking, “Poor guy, he has no friends,” so I started talking more to the guy two seats away in my row. I think I fooled them. But when I told this story to John, he came up with the whispered bribe, “If I buy you a hot dog and beer will you pretend to be my friend?” Now in reality, I didn’t quite sink to that level, but I came pretty darn close. Truth is, I plan to go to a couple more midweek afternoon games this summer, so if I sort of know you, do me a favor and sit somewhere else.

Happy Cinco De Mayo and Happy National Cartoonists Day to the best cartoonist I know, and also the one I work with, John Colquhoun.

Andy and John

Are You Guys Still Talking About Retirement? Yes! 4/29/22S

So here’s the thing. We thought about Marv’s retirement and found we could do 5 comics on it. First the retirement party at work where everyone says how much they love you and loved (note the use of the past tense here) working with you. Then you get to the first days at home. If Marv bears any resemblance to me, it’s that his wife Rachel (in the wake of the pandemic) works at home and was used to having the place to herself between, say 8:30 am and 7:00 pm. And she is very self-sufficient. So when Marv starts hanging around the house wanting to “help” or accompany her to the grocery store, thereby turning a 45-minute trip into a 2-hour ordeal—”Hey what’s that brand of fabric softener you wanted me to find? And what aisle again?”—he ends up driving his poor wife crazy (not that I or John, who works from home, would ever do that). Soon Marv will find the joys of a mid-week afternoon baseball game (no crowds, just you and busloads of camp kids) or the occasional mid-week afternoon bike ride, golf game or movie theater. Sometimes, yeah sometimes, you have to bite the bullet and go yourself, where you will encounter other like-minded individuals in similar circumstances and hopefully nobody you know.

So as Marv expands his world, we expand right along with him, making new friends along the way. With every new phase in life John and I discover, we will have our characters discovering right along with us. I will speak for myself here and not my very busy partner, but after 40 years of working, how much do I miss it? Not one little bit at all. Except for meeting and working with people you like everyday. And now that more and more people are working from home, you don’t even get the “working with people you like” part anymore. But you know what, I like that “working from home” title so much, I am officially unretiring. From now on, I’m working from home, even if I’m taking a nap.

Have a great weekend,

Andy and John

On Retirement. Now What? 4/22/22

I remember my first day of retirement as if it were yesterday. For anybody counting, it was in November of 2016. And to be truthful, it wasn’t exactly retirement, but you get the point. So many of my friends have stopped working and their collective thought is, what am I going to do with all that time??? You’ll figure it out. So let’s get back to my first weekend as a free man. As I often did, I went for a hike with my wife. I looked at my watch and saw it was almost 4 pm and grew worried. She asked, “What’s wrong,” and I replied, “It’s almost 4 and I haven’t gone to the grocery store yet.” She said, “Why not go Monday?” What she was saying without saying is you’re free to do whatever you want now. For me, I was so used to having to fit everything (like groceries) into a tight window on weekends so it didn’t interfere with my work week. But now? What the hell. I instantly felt my shoulders relax. That fall and the ensuing spring were filled with Tuesday bike rides, Wednesday golf games, mid-week afternoon Mets games and in the winter, the occasional afternoon movie (remember when we went to movies), or even a theater matinee. And grocery shopping on a Tuesday. In the morning. With no one there. Now we’re not claiming it’s going to be all roses for Marv moving forward, because, well, he’s Marv, but we are going to examine how his presence (just as mine did 5 years ago) turns the house upside down. Everyone was used to him NOT being there Monday through Friday, from 8:30 in the morning until around 7 at night. We will follow Marv from his retirement party through his first awkward days at home, to his venturing out into the brave new world, sometimes on his own.

Our next comic dealt with, oh yeah, retirement. More on that next week, and if you’re retired, you’ll have more than enough time to see what happens. If you’re still working, you can see what you have to look forward to. And if you retired folks need an idea for what to do, you could, I don’t know…start a comic. Just don’t call it The New 60.

Enjoy the weekend,

Andy and John

On Rabbit Holes and Jackie Robinson 04/15/22

The third time is the charm. We could have gone on amost endlessly with Marv’s trip down the rabbit hole. But enough is enough. And anyway the next step would have been from the Monty Python skit, which would have seen Marv in women’s garments. “I am a lumberjack/I work all day/And I wear women’s clothes. As the New 60 is a family-rated site, we just couldn’t be having that. So Marv stopped with the rugged flannel shirt.

Now it just so happens that today is Jackie Robinson day. And we decided to bring back a New 60 classic. Got to hand it to the Mets, who are unveiling a Tom Seaver statue on the very same day. Now Tom Seaver is probably the best Met player ever, but still, Jackie Robinson. Got to give the man his due. He was a fearsome player who of course broke baseball’s color barrier, and he was strong enough to not let himself be goaded by racist players trying to get him to fight. Everything about the man is admirable. Except if you’re an announcer. You see, Jackie Robinson day is April 15th, right at the beginning of the season. And since every player on both teams wears #42 in his honor, it can get a little confusing if you don’t yet know all the players on the team. Truth be told, I had trouble naming each player on the Pawtucket Red Sox, when I started out as a sportswriter. And they all had different uniform numbers.

But enough about me. Okay, one more thing about me. I have a pinched nerve in my neck and a horrible cough, so I am cutting the blog short this week and climbing back into bed.

Have a great weekend and we will start a series about Marv’s retirement (what the hell do you do all day) next week.

Andy and John

Goin' Down the Rabbit Hole

In “Alice in Wonderland,” Alice goes through the looking glass into the proverbial rabbit hole and starts her adventures. In today’s world, we enter the rabbit hole through our computers, tablets, phones and tv’s. The only difference is algorithms. They take what we are naturally interested in and push us to what other people who are interested in the same thing are also interested in. I realize that sentence made no sense at all. For instance, if you’re interested in combating pollution, you might get served an article about mulching your leftovers, which might lead you to an article on planting a vegetable garden with the previously mentioned mulch, which might lead to a recipe for garden salads. I frequently read about sports but at the bottom of the articles are what’s known as “clickbait,” articles that ask you to guess what these former sex symbols like Raquel Welch, look like today. After 25 clicks you still haven’t gotten to Raquel Welch, but after they send you to Tom Selleck, you decide you’ve had enough. That kind of thing. So John and I thought long and hard about what kind of rabbit hole we wanted to send Marv down. The obvious one was politics, but that seemed too obvious, so we turned to a rabbit hole John may have gone down himself, although he won’t admit to it. Part of it was he was looking for best exercises for guys with bad knees (I looked at that one myself and found an article saying jogging was good for you and another saying it was the worst possible thing you could do, so my rabbit hole was a fairly shallow one). As for John, he moved upstate to a house he built on a hilltop. One of the activities he enjoys either by himself or with his sons or son-in-law is chopping wood. So is it any surprise Marv went down the rabbit hole about wood chopping? I think not.

But when you chop wood, you need something to do with that wood, which brought us to Rabbit Hole, part 2, in which Marv decides he’ll use all that wood he’ll chop (keep in mind he still has yet to start chopping) as firewood. But he doesn’t have a fireplace. Yet. And that’s the thing with rabbit holes, you just keep digging deeper until you have no idea where you are or how you got there. Which is kind of what this blog feels like today. Now where was I? In any event Marv’s trip down the hole is a 3-parter ending next Tuesday, which is when he will finally come up for air (we hope).

Have a great weekend and please avoid all rabbit holes. We’ll see where Marv ends up next week before exploring what else he does with his spare time in retirement. We spend our spare time writing this comic, besides that, what we do is anybody’s guess.

‘til we meet again,

Andy and John

Picture This 10/01/21

John and I both attended recent weddings at which there were photo booths. Which led us to do a comic about, well, photo booths. Actually it led John to the topic and I just went along because I had nothing better to offer. At the wedding I attended, I submitted to a picture with my wife and the parents of the bride. I put on my best smile and tried like hell to keep my eyes open when the camera flashed. It worked! A nephew of mine had a different use of the photo booth. He used it as a kissing booth with one of the cute young women at said wedding. My wife has many rules for taking pictures and she has imparted them to me. Shoot from above (one has no control over that in a photo booth). Keep your chin up (this is called DCA - Double-Chin Avoidance). The booth situations are so freaking awkward that it makes people (okay, it makes ME) uncomfortable. Thus the dialogue between Marv and Rachel as he tries and fails at everything she suggests. But at least he has a cute butt.

The other comic, ostensibly about a sausage upgrade at our favorite franchise, Pizza-on-a-Stick is really about second acts in general. Just for the sake of clarity, a second act refers to the career you pursue after your first career is over and done. The thing about second careers is that they are usually a chance for the pursuer to be in charge. Your own business, be it a bed and breakfast, a cookie-making factory, a comic strip (now where did that idea come from?) and a pizza franchise. Since it’s yours, you care about it way more than if you were merely an employee. On a little side note, a friend of ours, a super-talented art director and big fan, Tanya Mishu, sent us a YouTube video of a new franchise idea, Pizza in a Cone. Seriously. Imagine an ice cream cone filled with piping hot tomato sauce, mozzarella cheese and fillings. Now imagine biting into it. It seems to us like you’d burn the hell out of the roof of your mouth, but what do we know? Suffice it to say, Pizza-on-a-Stick is a way, way better idea. And Al, the former ad man/employee and now a boss, wants to make his new venture better. So he went farm to table with his pizza toppings. What could possibly go wrong?

When you’re an employee, you gleefully help yourself to the free bagels, coffee, cream cheese, birthday cake, beer (during pub hour) and assorted snacks. When you’re the owner, suddenly the free giveaways are costing you a bunch. So who wants a second career again?

That’s all for this week folks. But we’ve got two more coming up so hang on to your hats, have a wonderful weekend and we’ll see you next week.

Andy and John