Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus 09/24/21

I actually have no idea about the planets. Suffice it to say that men and women are, well, different. Take the case of television watching, for example. When we watch something my wife likes, she will ask me to turn the volume up so she can hear it. When I watch a ball game, any kind of ball game at any time of the day or night, I am asked to turn the volume down. When I mentioned this to John, he immediately went for an English period drama (the most boring thing we could think of to watch (although I did love The Crown) vs. the most boring sports moment we could think of. The announcer saying what yard line the football is on. You see, if we had the announcer saying “Touchdown” or “It’s outta here” for a home run, that would be loud all by itself, so we went for dull, the ball is on the 35-yard line.

We shared a beach house this summer with my daughter, son-in-law and their child, our first grandchild. After the kids put the baby to bed, we’d all watch a drama (no, not an English period drama. It was Designated Survivor, if you must know) and I swear, the volume was up to 30. When said drama was over, I’d tune in the Mets game, which I had previously recorded. The volume was at 15, and I was repeatedly asked to “Turn that down, wayyyyy down.” I pointed out that nobody in the house could possibly hear it, because at this point, I couldn’t hear it. Men are from Mars…

Our other comic came from nowhere else but our imaginations. We’ve all heard of the cliche of the husband running off with the nanny, or babysitter or au pair, or whatever else you call them these days. And we flipped it on its head. If you remember a storyline from our recent past, Sam and Shellie hired a male nanny (who had just come out of prison—hey it’s a comic, we can do anything we want). And when Sam decides to do a guy thing and go to the car show, well, what’s a woman supposed to think? That men are from Mars, and women are from Venus. We rest our case.

That’s all she wrote (who the hell is SHE anyway)? Have a great weekend and we will see you next week with two new comics.

Andy and John

You Can't Be Too Careful 9/10/21

Actually, you can. In the case of our hand sanitizer comic, Craig was allergic to it. Seems the stuff is everywhere now, drugstore counters, supermarket check-out lines, restaurants - but then they swipe your card in a machine that has everybody else’s swipes and hand you a pen that 2,000 people have used before you and, more hand sanitizer. But this comic doesn’t come from that insight. It comes from John’s wife Linda who mistakenly confused the sanitizer with bug spray. Turns out hand sanitizer doesn’t do a damn thing for preventing mosquito bites. Nor does bug spray do a particularly good job of cleaning your hands. Who knew? One of the most memorable cases of mistaken bottles occurred when my children were 7 and 4. One day when my wife was out of town, I was driving to a rollerblading rink and both my kids were in their car seats. My 7-year-old daughter was playing with her stuffed animals when I heard her say to her brother, “Uh, I don’t think you should be playing with that.” Then I heard the sound of an aerosol being sprayed. I was driving, so I said, “Can you please hand me that, having no idea what it was. It turned out to be a bottle of pepper spray. I exclaimed, “Fuuuuuck!” before I realized what I was saying. The genesis of this story is my wife worked in an office building that was quiet and dark come nighttime, where she went back to work, once the kids were asleep. So I got her a bottle of pepper spray to carry, just in case somebody surprised her. She put it in the center console, just in case…) Two hours and a long shower after, the situation was resolved, the pepper spray washed from our son’s eyes. My wife had just come home from her trip as I was towel-drying our son’s hair. She said to our son, “Hello honey, how was your day?” And he replied, “Guess what, Daddy said fuck!” So much for mistaken bottles.

As for the twins, we had a gender reveal party for Al and Joanne’s daughter a couple months ago and we figured it was time to deliver the twins. Turns out the delivery process is a lot easier to draw than it is to live through.

My wife and I were fortunate enough to spend a good part of the summer in a beach house with our daughter, her husband and their new baby girl, Charlotte. Though my daughter and son-in-law were overwhelmed with love for their daughter, I observed Charlotte not sleeping through the night, my daughter giving multiple feedings, both she and her husband never getting a full night’s sleep, and the toll it took to carry strollers, car seats, diapers, etc. When I explained this to John, he said, “Now imagine if you had twins. They might not have the same nap schedules, feeding schedules, etc.” (He didn’t actually say “etc.” I just put that in because I forgot the rest of what he said.) The comic that followed was what we imagined having baby twins would feel like. Turns out I just got a taste of the real thing. We just came home from a wedding in Denver followed by a few days with our niece, her husband and her kids, an 11-year old daughter and a pair of 5-year-old twins. One twin said to me, “Pick me up!” Followed by the other saying the same. Then the first one asked again and the second one said, “Hey, not fair, you picked her up two times!” You get the idea. The good news is that if you wanted two kids, you get it over at once. The bad news is, as the old Doublemint gum jingle said, “Double your pleasure, double your fun…’

See you next week with two new ones hot off the New 60 press. (There isn’t really a New 60 press, but I just like saying it.)

Andy and John

Expanding Families

This week we devoted ourselves to expanding families. Al’s family expands as his daughter Emily is about to give birth to twins. And Marv’s family expanded, or actually, Marv expanded by eating donuts, not that there’s anything wrong with that.

But first to the upcoming birth. My own daughter gave birth to our first grandchild, Charlotte, back in April. We raced down to the hospital and when we got there, were told we couldn’t come in due to Covid-19 protocols. I suggested we go back home, because there was nothing we could do by being there. My wife refused and wanted to hang out there, “Just in case…” I could try every logical argument I could think of, but no, she wasn’t biting. It was clear I wasn’t winning this one. She was going to be there for our daughter and son-in-law come hell or high water. Finally, the baby arrived, and thank goodness everyone was okay and we eventually made our way back home. When I told John about this he instantly turned the idea around, saying we didn’t need the Covid part. The essential story was when it comes to the birth of a child or grandchild, mother (or grandma) knows best. So we just focused on the act of driving to the hospital. We all have our emotional connections and if they make sense to us, that’s all that counts. When I am watching a Mets game and it’s a tense situation, I give the pitcher or batter instructions. To the pitcher, “Throw him a curve ball, he’ll ground into a double play.” Or to the batter, “Don’t swing at the next pitch, let him walk you!” My wife will ask, “Who are you talking to?” I know my words have no effect, but what if they do? In a similar vein she knew she had to be there just until the baby was delivered. She knew there was nothing she could do about it, but just in case…

The second comic came from another observation. I shared with John, a story about our rental house this summer. A guest came up with two large cookies. Not just cookies in the traditional sense, but huuuuge cookies with all sorts of goodies baked inside. The guests were staying for a long weekend and for two days the cookies just sat there, still wrapped in plastic. Nobody wanted to be the fatso who committed to an entire cookie which must have contained at least a full day’s worth of calories. So I unwrapped the cookies and broke them up into 40 or 50 bite size pieces and put them out on the counter. Within one day they were gone. Everyone who passed through the kitchen, which was everyone, stopped and grabbed a bite size piece on their way to wherever it was they were going. “Oh, on my way to the pool, a little piece won’t hurt.” “Oh, on my way to the bathroom, what the hell, it’s just one bite.” “Going to run an errand, let me grab one while nobody’s looking.” John shared that he does this with the occasional donut and we had our second comic. Here’s a helpful hint, DO NOT try the broken cookie routine at home. 8 extra pounds later, you’ll be cursing us out.

One last point. The Mets finally won a game Wednesday night and you know why they won? Because I told the batter, Kevin Pillar, to hit a game-winning 3 run homer in the 11th inning and he listened. The fact that I recorded the game earlier and watched it hours after it had actually ended had nothing to do with it. The batter heard me! Everyone has their little emotional tics. And no two people have the same ones. But in the end, they are what make us, us.

Have a great weekend,

Andy and John

Out of Control 8/13/21

When John and I first started thinking about writing a comic, we went out to lunch. He ordered some Amazonian chicken and rice dish and when it came, I couldn’t help noticing he was pushing the peas aside so he wouldn’t have to eat them. I laughed because I too am a picky eater, especially when it comes to vegetables. I like to think of myself as a pick and choose eater. I choose not to eat most vegetables.

So we got to wondering, what would it be like if you were invited over to a friend’s house for dinner and you didn’t like what they were cooking. It’s hard to say how much you love something, how absolutely delicious it is, when you’ve left 3/4’s of it on your plate. One of my favorite tricks is that when I get up to clear my plate, I pick up the person’s plate next to me, and carefully place it on top of my plate. This way, someone may miss the fact that I left all the “cauliflower rice” on my plate. It’s not freakin’ rice. It’s cauliflower, and I hate cauliflower, okay????

Now onto the comic featuring the traditional Indian dress, known as a Sari. In this case John and his wife Linda were invited to an Indian wedding and Linda thought it would be fun to wear a Sari. Until she tried to put the Sari on. Apparently it’s pretty difficult. Not to worry, there’s a YouTube video on how to do just about anything. Apparently it was very difficult as well. Sorry about the Sari. But it made for a good comic. What would be equally funny would be to see John in a Kurta, the male Indian attire that resembles a long shirt (just looked that up on Google). But apparently he demurred on that idea as well. A suit and tie is challenging enough for me, especially after two years in COVID-19 lockdown and sweatpants. I mean, even blue jeans and a long-sleeved tee feel like dressing up. Everything’s relative, right?

That’s it for this week and we will see you again next week with two new comics.

Note: Saturday night the NY Giants play the NY Jets in a pre-season football game. John is a Jet fan, me a die-hard Giants supporter. If the Giants win Saturday I will be sure to roast John and his Jets in next week’s blog. If somehow, someway the Jets win, I won’t mention the game at all.

Have a great weekend

Andy and John

No Clue 7/16/21

Events. Weddings, funerals, unveilings, bar/bat mitzvahs, confirmations, graduations, gender reveal parties, you name it, there’s an event made especially for it. And if the event is about someone in your immediate family, chances are there’s a receiving line where people shake your hand or kiss you and tell you how happy/sorry they are for your gain (marriage/baby/graduation) or loss (funeral) and then comes the kicker — the sentiment that it’s a shame we only see each other at these kinds of events and let’s get together soon. Let’s be honest. There are those few that we really would love to get together with except for the fact that you live too far away from them, and then there are those who, well, ‘ya know. This first comic is dedicated to them.

The second comic in your feed comes from a patented inability to find a tv show on a given network or “platform.” First of all, platforms are for diving or giving speeches, not for watching tv shows. Secondly, how the f#@! do you find them? One half of the New 60 team is currently at a beach house and tried to find something on Netflix the other night. I was struggling with three remotes lying out on the living room table. The cable remote has a button called tv input, and if you keep pressing it, you can go from “living room hd” to HDMI 1, 2, etc. As I was struggling with this, my 35-year-old son-in-law picked up another remote and pushed a large button entitled “Netflix.” Who knew? At any rate, it worked. My bar? As long as I can record the Mets and the NBA playoffs, I’m good.

That’s it for this week. I know it’s a little bit on the short side, but there’s this beach house and well, the sun is out and I’m outta here. See you next week with two new ones thanks to our virtual meetings on zoom, but wait, the signal here is weak, so what if I cancel my video feed, well, wait, what about FaceTime, hey, did you just hang up on me, oh there you are…

By hook or by crook, we’ll be there. Have a great weekend,

Andy and John

On Gender Reveal Parties and Emotional Support Animals 6/11/21

If you are a regular reader of The New 60 Comic (and if you’re reading this blog there’s a good chance that you are indeed a regular reader) you probably wonder why everything is becoming more and more complicated. Case in point, the gender reveal party. Used to be, your kid called you and said something like, “Mom, dad, we’re pregnant!” To which you would respond, “Oh that’s great,” and you’d follow it up with, “Do you know what you’re having,” and they’d either tell you or say, we didn’t want to know, we want it to be a surprise.” SImple, right? And then once the baby was born, you could come to the hospital and figure it out the old fashioned way. But now? Noooo way. Introducing The Gender Reveal Party. Like a lot of things these days, people compete over who has the most dramatic reveal. One brilliant couple in California decided to shoot off pink fireworks to reveal they were having a baby girl. Congratulations guys. Only trouble was 1) it was in the middle of an historic drought, 2 )the temperatures were extremely hot and dry and 3) there were strong Santa Ana winds. Know what happened? They started a wildfire that burned thousands of acres of forest, forced people from their homes, and killed others who couldn’t escape fast enough. But at least they got to tell everyone they had a girl. Fortunately, we chose to make our young couple a little more responsible and just send up balloons. which are kind of dramatic, and also ensures there’ll be plenty of helium left over to inhale and enable people to speak in really high voices.

Which brings us to emotional support. With the world getting more and more complex (ever try to find a radio station on your car these days), some of us (okay,okay LOTS of us) have turned to our doctors to help us cope with anti-anxiety and anti-depression. We consume drugs as if they were giant-sized party bags of m&m’s. But what if you want a non-medical way to cope? How about an emotional support animal? These have proved very helpful to people of all ages coping with all sorts of issues. Just recently a friend of mine (who shall go nameless to protect the innocent) found out her emotional support cat was very sick. The emotional support animal now needed her emotional support. What happens if you weren’t trained as an emotional support human? What do you do then, huh? Maybe there is such a thing as an emotional support animal specifically trained to provide emotional support to emotional support animals who are suffering. Or maybe this blogger needs to find himself a real job.

Okay that’s it for this week, see you next week with two new ones. Stay safe everyone,

Andy and John

Sam Comes Back 6/4/21

When we first started this comic, we thought it would be fun to have a diverse set of friends, not only diverse in the racial sense, but also diverse in how their lives turned out. Gives us lots of fodder for different plots. That’s why in addition to two married couples (Al/Joanne and Marv/Rachel) we have a single guy dating (Craig) and a guy on his second marriage (Sam). At first Sam was the object of jealousy when he married a woman 20 years his junior (Shellie). And then she got pregnant and had a baby (Sammy) and suddenly the gang was not jealous of Sam anymore.

Because John and I are in our 60’s and our kids are all grown up, we tend to forget what a tremendous amount of time and effort it took to raise children from infancy. Now, because I’m a new grandpa, I see it up close and cannot believe we got through it in one piece. Suffice it to say, Sam is not getting through it in one piece. So they hired a babysitter with an advanced degree in child development. The fact that he’s covered in tattoos and just came out of prison is entirely beside the point. Who are we to judge? Well, it turns out we’re just like everyone else. So we introduce you to the new male babysitter, Sonny. He will give Sam some form of his old life back again and he gives us a fun new character to play with.

This week we reintroduce Sam back to the diner with his buddies and then take him to the park where Marv gets to meet Sonny for the first time. We hope, once you finish judging him, you will grow to love him. Afterall, there’s nothing to lose, because what the hell, it’s not like he’s looking after YOUR kid.

Have a good weekend (even if it’s cold and rainy) and we will see you next week with two new ones.

Andy and John

Sonny Starts and Sam's a Free Man 5/21/21

Becoming a grandfather for the first time in your 60’s is a wonderful experience. Becoming a father for the first time in your 60’s? Not so much. At least not in our limited imaginations. So we show Sam in his attempt to be a househusband and he fails spectacularly. That’s one element of our story. The next one is the search for a babysitter or nanny, if you will. So we decided to go against type. Instead of the typical au pair from a Scandinavian country, we decided to go with a big guy with two sleeves of tattoos who has been recently released from prison. And, of course, he happens to be an impeccable choice. On a personal note I happen to have a son with two sleeves of tattoos who happens to be great with kids, though thankfully, he’s not a prisoner.

Our ex-con Sonny studied child psychology while he was in the pen and has a chance to show off his skills. As a babysitter/nanny, he beats the hell out of Sam, who has never been to prison either (at least not as far as we know). And now, a brief respite from the land of funny into the land of serious. These days there is a rash of violence between people just because somebody looks different or comes from a different country or speaks a different language or even has an accent. Sonny is our small attempt to say don’t judge a book by its cover. And yes, you CAN teach an old dog new tricks.

We will see you guys next week with two new ones featuring a return visit from one of our most popular characters, Al and Joanne’s son, Sid.

Have a great and (at least in some areas) maskless weekend.

Andy and John

Both Ends of the Life Cycle 5/7/21

That’s convenient, now isn’t it? My daughter just had a baby a month ago and now Al’s daughter has one! Imagine the coincidence. Is it art imitating life? No, it’s just a damn good storyline. But unlike Al’s daughter, mine actually revealed her baby’s gender (a girl, Charlotte) as soon as she found out from the doctor. But John and I felt a gender reveal party was just too juicy to pass up. It’s the kind of thing that has made its way into the cultural zeitgeist, and most of us 60+ year-olds have heard of it but actually have no idea what it means. John and I actually called our daughters to get the lowdown. The bottom line is this: some people want to know the gender of their baby before it comes out, some want it to be a surprise and some want to make it an excuse for a party, or in the lexicon of today, an event. As my children used to say “In real true life,” one of these parties had a couple setting off fireworks, which led to a massive wildfire destroying thousands of acres of California. Another in Mexico just last month had a small plane flying over Mexico, set to reveal the baby’s gender. The only problem was it crashed and the result wasn’t pretty. We promise a gender reveal party somewhere down the road where nobody dies or even gets injured. But don’t ask us what the baby’s gender is because we ain’t tellin’!

The second strip is something a lot of us in this age group has gone through or is going through. It involves selling your parents’ house because either they’ve moved into an assisted living home or they passed away. Gosh this blog is very morbid today, isn’t it? John and I have both been through some form of this and everybody tells you the same thing, “Don’t get emotional. Whatever the buyer want to do with the house is up to them. It’s no longer the home you grew up in. It’s now their home.” You can nod along in agreement to this very rational piece of advice, but when the moment comes, all reason flies out the window. Marv’s interior dialogue goes something like this: “That was MY room damnit! And if I say it’s a great boy’s room, then that’s what you should use it for. I don’t care that you don’t have kids. Keep your freakin’ loom outta here and put up some posters of Jacob deGrom, okay?!” (By the way, that last piece of punctuation - ?! - is called an interrobang. John taught me that from a book about cartooning, written by Mort Walker, the creator of Beetle Bailey). At any rate, Instead of that angry interior rant, Marv just says, “Or a loom, a loom would be perfect in here.” This type of debate between the internal dialogue and what actually pours from our characters’ mouths is the type of discussion we have every week. If you know us it would come as no surprise that I would be the type to say the internal dialogue out loud whereas John would go for the second, more politic way of speaking. Since you’ve already read the comic, I guess you can figure out who won the debate for what Marv actually does say.

So that’s it for this week. Next week we’ve got another series coming up. We’ll be checking in on Sam, as he deals with the demands of being a new dad in his 60’s. The fun begins.

Have a safe, covid-free weekend and thanks for staying with us

Andy and John

Watching the Big Screen 4/9/21

Here’s another problem with getting old. Whining about the fact that things ain’t like they used to be. This observation is always followed by the phrase “these days.” Examples: “Politics is too partisan these days.” “You have to be so careful about what you say these days.” And, relating to our March Madness comic, “College basketball is too much like the pros these days.” As John and I were talking about the NCAA Tournament which ended Monday night (it was really over in the first ten minutes, it just lasted until the final buzzer at which point nobody was watching except for people who attended Baylor) we remarked that the only thing amateur about college hoops is when you see the players reduced to tears when their team finally loses. Then we thought that the truly great players play only one season of college before turning pro, so just how sad are they? They are about to earn unfathomable riches. And yeah, it sucks that old (fill in your alma mater here) lost, but the hell with it, I’m going to the Oklahoma City Thunder!

The other comic this week (not as timely as March Madness) deals with the phenomenon we are all experiencing in real time. A few months ago, one of the major studios decided to release all its upcoming movies to theaters and to HBO Max at the exact same time. This means no more exclusive runs at the movie theater. First of all, what is HBO Max anyway? I already pay for HBO, now I have to pay MORE for Max???? But the point is, that there are fewer and fewer reasons to go to a movie theater and we will be streaming more and more movies in the comfort of our own homes. I must admit I used to like the movie theater experience. The audience shrieks at a scary movie or laughter at a comedy is infectious. There’s surround-sound, DOLBY digital and IMAX. But now the audience is infectious as well. And if you’re on the short side like me, there’s always a 6-footer who decides to sit right in front of you. And let’s face it, the popcorn sucks, unless you go to the Alamo Drafthouse. So we had Al and Joanne recreate the experience at home without going into one of the discussions I have with my wife around home movie watching: do you pour the raisinets straight into the popcorn bowl, or eat them separately.

One final personal note. John and I write about what it’s like to navigate your 60’s because we like to write about what we know. However, we’ve written about being grandparents without personally knowing what that’s like. I am proud to say as of Tuesday night, I now know what that’s like. My daughter Ali and her husband Mark had their first child Charlotte Tuesday around 10pm. My wife Joanie and I are now first time grandparents. And it couldn’t be sweeter.

See you next week with two new ones — comics, not grandchildren.

Andy and John

Finally 03/26/21

Why finally? Because it links this week’s comics. Finally we got Sid out of the house and can plan what to do with his room. And finally we got an appointment for our Covid vaccine shots. First, about the Covid. As a man of a certain age, it reminds me a lot of Vietnam. Huh? Relax, I’ll explain. It was 1971 and yours truly was a freshman at Washington U in St. Louis. I sat around on the floor with a bunch of buddies listening to the radio announce birthdates that were being pulled out of a tumbler. Speaking of tumblers, we also had a bottle of crappy scotch on the floor and we kept taking shots when we didn’t get our birthday called. My roommate’s birthday was May 5th, and I was May 15th. The war was starting to wind down and only the first 50 birthdates called would have to enlist in the army. The voice called out, “Number 5…May 5th.” Now May 5th sounds a lot like May 15th, but it wasn’t, thank goodness for yours truly. My roommate, however, left for active duty and I never heard from him again. I hope he made it. May 15th didn’t get called until after number 250 so I was safe. But what reminded me of Covid is it’s the only time I can remember people hoping they were sick, that something was wrong with them. In the case of Vietnam, something wrong could get you declared 4F. I have no idea what that stands for but it means, you’re out. The army can’t use you. It’s like on a school test. F isn’t a low enough grade for you. You’re 4F. Take that! With Covid, if you weren’t yet 65, you’d have to have something wrong with you in order to qualify for the shot. Anxiety, depression, elevated heart beat, hypertension, you name it. The point is it’s the only other time I can remember people hoping their doctors would find something wrong with them. Bone spurs, anyone?

Next up on your scroll is the inevitable emptying of Sid’s room. All traces of Sid are gone, posters, clothes, shoes, books, hell, even Sid himself. It was what Al and Joanne wanted for the last 5 or 6 years. But, of course, now that he’s gone they miss the hell out of him. I will point out that hey don’t miss him enough to stop contemplating who gets his room and what they are planning to do with said room, once a winner has been declared. And like most marital squabbles, the guy has no chance emerging as the winner. Al, while not an easy man to live with, was easy to manipulate in this situation. A NY Giants foot pillow, to prop his feet up during games, was all it took for Joanne to win the day. Speaking for the entire male gender, we may not think we’re easy to outmaneuver, but trust us, we are. But don’t worry. Al will get his chance. Wait until they start to clean out the garage.

That’s it for this week. Have a great weekend and we’ll be back again next week with two new ones.

Andy and John

Adjusting 03/19/21

Adjustments. We make a small series that most people don’t even notice, but over time, they add up. Having spent nearly 4 decades in the ad biz, I can tell you that products you are very familiar with tweak their labels in small ways, keeping consistent elements, but changing all the same. You wouldn’t notice them from year to year, but if you looked back, say 5 years, you’d see an obvious difference. Coca Cola has the familiar red and white can, but they play with the white stripe, the type face and whether it says Coke, or Coca Cola. Sometimes the adjustment is too much too soon. Does anybody remember New Coke? Exactly.

It’s like that in relationships as well. Al and Joanne are struggling to adjust to life without their son at home. They were also struggling with being able to see the small type on their tv monitor. That was an adjustment that worked out for Al. A similar situation arose in my home a couple weeks ago. The big screen tv went kaput after 6years (they sure don’t make ‘em like they used to, do they?). I wanted a bigger screen, my wife not so much. The old tv was on a bracket where it pulled out and swiveled. The adjustment: a bigger screen, but flat against the wall. Both sides ended up being happy. Of course, most adjustments don’t work like that. It’s usually where either side didn’t get quite what they wanted, but they are at least willing to live with it. Another example happened when we downsized from our house to our apartment. I said, “Honey, there isn’t room for four sets of china.” To which my wife replied, “And there’s no room for 4 tvs.” You can’t argue with good solid logic, so we adjusted. We have 4 sets of china and 4 tvs.

Next week we will deal with compromise, which is really just another word for adjustment. Until then, have a great and virus-free weekend.

Andy and John

The Saga of Sid Continues 3/11/21

Everybody’s got to grow up at some point, right? Even Sid. Look, we get it. This is the first generation that hasn’t had a reasonable expectation of upward mobility. And so because of a combination of low paying jobs, little to no health insurance, and sky high rents, many adult children are being forced to still live at home or to accept their parents’ help in living alone. And we ‘ve been over this territory before. And it’s not particularly funny, especially if you are the person still living home. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t room for comedy. Between wondering, “what in the name of God is he doing up there?” and the revelation of, “Oh, so that’s what he’s been doing up there!” is where the funny kicks in. And you have to admit, that app of Sid’s is a pretty brilliant idea.

But then we got to thinking, what if Siri or Alexa or one of those robotic female voices could do this anyway? Aren’t they some sort of example of artificial intelligence, or to be hip, AI? So we tested it. Well, in order to sound incredibly hip, we beta-tested it. In other words I said, “Hey Siri, what’s the name of that movie with the guy from the notebook and the girl from the Help? And Siri replied, “Okay, I found this on the web about The Notebook.” So it didn’t work. Which means there is still a need for Sid’s app. And if any of you are smart enough to invent it and you wind up making billions of bucks, just remember who gave you the idea. And return a 33 1/3% of your profits for the first couple years. It’s only fair.

We will wrap up the 5-part Saga of Sid next week and move on to other topics, but if you get a chance we’d love to hear your thoughts about whether or not you’d like these continuing stories from time to time.

And that, is that. Not because it’s currently 68 degrees outside and I’m kinda lazy. No it’s because I’ve run out of things to say about adult children living at home. And yeah, because it’s 68 degrees and I’m kinda lazy.

See you next week with two new ones. Enjoy your weekend and we hope you get vaccinated,

Andy and John

Adult Children 3/05/21

What kind of world is this? When did it become the rule that people of a certain age had to take care of their parents and elderly relatives, and also still have to help their kids out? It’s not all our kids’ faults. Gone are jobs with nice, comfy perks like medical insurance and bonuses and pensions and the guarantee of 40 years with the same company (what the hell is a company anyway?). Nope. Now we live in a “gig” economy. As far as I can tell gig stands for no freakin’ benefits. Gig makes me gag. But this is supposed to be funny, so enough.

We thought we’d take a look at Al and Joanne’s 33-year-old son who works on his computer upstairs and has no income. He does however have a plan. First, we gave him a name, Sidney. And then, as part of our new push to tell more continuing stories, we are doing our first ever 5-part story, the Saga of Sid, if you will. We are going to explore the push/pull of “C’mon kid, it’s time to move out” combined with “Do you have to go so soon?” Sure, they’re pains in the butt but they also solve all your tech problems. Sure, they eat you out of house and home but they also listen to cool music you’d never hear and watch new tv shows you’d never watch. In short, they keep you a little more hip than you’d be otherwise. John and I have no kids living at home, which may be a reason why we are so unhip, even though we did visit a pot dispensary in a past comic.

The other thing about a five-part series is this: once we enter a comic, say Part 1 on the website, and then enter the subsequent comic, Part 2, the subsequent comic comes up first in your feed, so that when you click open your email on Friday, you’d see part 2, followed by Part 1. And then next week, you’d see Part 4 at the top followed by Part 3. In other words, “Help! Where are our kids when we need them???

Have a great weekend and get vaccinated,

Andy and John

New Dad 11/06/2020

Confession: we rented a house in East Hampton for our 30th anniversary in 2014 and never looked back. We’ve done it every year since. Why do I mention that? One it’s a great bribe to get your kids to come and visit you all the time. But the other reason is you see all sorts of sights. From the beautiful…the pristine beaches, spectacular sunsets, the golden light … to the less than beautiful … including older, saggy men with young starlets strolling down said pristine beach. And that leads into today’s comics. Sort of. It’s not that Sam is in his 80’s and Shellie in her 20’s (and believe me, I’ve seen that combo). It’s not even that he has attracted her with his spectacular wealth and power (of which he has neither). It’s just that he married a significantly younger woman. And we thought that might affect the dynamic between Al, Marv and Sam. Primarily because Al’s wife Joanne and Marv’s wife Rachel liked Sam’s first wife and related to her, and they were all part of the same generation. But this new young whippersnapper Shellie, as they say in Brooklyn, fuhgeddaboudit. Except now Shellie (the young whippersnapper is 40, mind you) has had a baby, and this brings Rachel and Joanne around. And it’s going to make Sam’s life far different from his buddys’ lives all over again. First they were the ones who couldn’t stay out late, who had to cancel plans because they couldn’t find a baby sitter, who were always exhausted, but now HE is goingto be the one experiencing all of that when Al and Marv can stay out as late as they want (of course, being in their 60’s that’s not very late, but it’s nice to have options). The first comic also touches on the fact that men are basically babies themselves. Think about it. The woman does all the carrying. Goes through all the nausea. Bares all the labor pain and is the baby’s source of nutrition. And Sam sort of feels bad that all the attention is on the baby and Shellie. We all go through personal growing pains. Sam is about to go through his.

The second comic, on the same topic, touches on the ways in which society has changed and keeps on changing. When we grew up we had chocolate cigarettes and even better big, fat chocolate cigars (only milk chocolate in those days, thank you very much) and who can forget Big League Chew, which took a cancerous product like chewing tobacco and reformulated it as shards of bubble gum. It even came in a resealable pouch just like the real thing. In the past we ran a comic about a grandchild’s horror that Al was still using plastic straws. And so today, we thought one further shock to Sam’s reality was that he no longer could pass out cigars. But hey, organic fruit rollups are almost just as good. Especially when paired with an aged 12-year old scotch. Sam’s life is about to change big time.

Ours, not so much. We’ll see you next week with two new ones.

Andy and John

Getting Carried Away 10/23/2020

In the last blog I revealed that my wife and I went to Portland, Maine, a couple of weeks ago while John and his wife went to the Cape. We both visited New England, and I promised that these would lead to several comics. The first on your list is about my favorite show courtesy of Mother Nature, the changing of the leaves. The breathtaking beauty of red, orange, gold, green and yellow leaves. But the New York area (where we live) is awash in another less beautiful tradition. And that is a not so silent competition about being and experiencing “the best.” When it comes to leaves, that means going during “Peak Season.” What is the proper definition of peak season? Duh, It’s the weekend you choose to go leaf-peeping. But there is an unofficial definition as well. And it changes depending on where you live. On the east coast, it starts earliest up north, where the days get shorter and the nights get colder a lot quicker than they do further south. Hence, states like Maine and Vermont and New Hampshire see their leaves ablaze in color weeks sooner than in New York. New Yorkers want to brag that they are seeing the leaves at their peak, and the locals take great delight in proving them wrong. And that was the premise for our first comic. Marv and Rachel just loved, loved, loved the spectacular colors but they needed the approval of a local to tell them they were there at the exact right time. And when they found out it was past peak, well then the leaves weren’t quite so beautiful. Confession: neither John nor I are competitive about silly things like that, though I must point out that since Cape Cod, Massachusetts, is well south of Portland, Maine, that we saw much much better leaves than they did.

Comic 2 in your scroll had absolutely nothing to with our mutual trips to New England. But it has everything to do with the dread that lies close beneath the surface of each and every one of us. Fear of Covid. (I sneezed, that’s a sign! I think I might have a temperature, that’s a sign. I’m really tired tonight. Is that a sign? Well you got only 5 hours of sleep last night and you hiked 8 miles, so that could have something to do with it. No that’s not it, I’ve got to get tested.)

The point is that so many people have contracted it, and nobody really knows how they contracted it, that we will go to any length to avoid it. Including my taking a jog in the rain so as not to run on the nice, indoor treadmill at my local gym, only a five-minute walk away. Fear of Covid even conspired to ruin Al’s Taco Night. Fortunately, in Al’s case, he will live to see another comic which next week will feature yet another New England inspired misadventure.

That’s it for now, and we’ll be back with two new ones for Halloween weekend, where there will be no trick or treating, which is a real shame, especially since John is a champion pumpkin carver. We’ll put a link to his personal site up next week so you can view his work.

Have a great weekend,

Andy and John

We're not getting old, just older 10/09/2020

There was an episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm last year where Larry David wants to go to the bathroom, but this old man using a walker is ahead of him and Larry can’t pass him in the hallway. So behind the guy’s back, Larry waves his arms in a “come on already, get a move on!” type of gesture. I must admit to that feeling sometimes (okay a lot of times) (okay, all the time) but our first comic today is the total opposite of that. It summons our better angels. Kind of like Mike Pence during the debate Wednesday, expressing thanks to Kamala and Biden for their well wishes towards President Trump and Melania’s recoveries. It’s such a relief from the constant fighting, but face it, conflict is much more entertaining. That’s why most of our comics are about some kind of conflict, but this time, we thought we’d try something different. Maybe it’s that we’re getting nicer as we get older but maybe it’s that as we feel more vulnerable, we want to be treated the way Al’s son treated him in this strip. At least in my case, it’s the latter.

Full disclosure: when we decided the plot was going to revolve around building something, an age-old father-son activity, I told John, “You’re gonna have to figure out what they build because I’ve never done anything like this in my life, I’m Jewish.” Except for that one time when my daughter Ali moved into her first Brooklyn apartment with two former college roommates. I took her to Ikea and we bought bookshelves, among other things, and I mounted them above the desk in her bedroom. Luckily she went to work everyday because a couple weeks later, the whole assembly, books and all, came crashing down on her desk when she wasn’t there, thank goodness. But like I said, I’m Jewish.

The second comic features the little kid falling asleep but grandpa keeps reading anyway. Well John had experienced that as a dad, and I have a television version of the same story. Many years ago, when our kids were still at home, we joined them in watching one of their favorite shows, Dawson’s Creek. As the weeks passed, we got into it with them and it became a family activity every Wednesday (or whatever day of the week it was) evening. As we got into the next season though, something happened. The kids started losing interest but Joanie and I were riveted. It got to the point where we were watching it alone because they couldn’t be bothered with such a babyish show. I must admit we watched it right until the series finale when Mitch Leary, Dawson’s father, tragically lost his life. He was driving at night down a two-lane, unlit country road while licking an ice cream cone. The top scoop fell off and he reached down to pick it back up. By the time he was sitting upright he had crossed the yellow line and a two ton truck was roaring to him…I can’t go on. But this is all a (very) long-winded way of saying that sometimes we get more caught up in our kids’ or grandkids’ activities even more than they do.

Enjoy the weekend, and follow our rule, don’t eat outdoors unless the restaurants have a freaking heat lamp!

Andy and John

On tailgating and stuffed drawers 09/25/2020

So I called my buddy Rich up and asked, where are we watching the Giants game Monday night? 3 of us were going to congregate at his house. Then he asked his wife Sue and she was understandably uncomfortable with that idea. Then I offered my apartment and nobody thought that was a good idea either. So we all sat in our individual homes and texted. Not as good. But we have to adjust. No fans, nobody coming over, yikes. I spoke to John about this and offered that they used to have big screens outside Giants stadium, and why couldn’t the guys in our comic get together and tailgate in the parking lot. His response was, “Would they even let you in? I don’t think so.” So we put our heads together and came up with going to the local sports bar. You’re certainly not going to sit inside, but then when you sit outside, could you possibly see the tv inside? Answer: no. Then we thought, if you’ve ever asked to make a call or send a text in a restaurant, you’d have their wireless password, and bingo, our first comic this week was born. The point is, we’re social animals so we’ll figure out a way to get together somehow. But just keep your damn mask on, okay? And around the chin doesn’t count. Neither does under the nose. In the words of Bill Maher, that’s like wearing a condom around your balls. So around your nose and under your chin and then we’re cool, capiche?

Our second comic deals with accumulating stuff. Boxes of stuff, drawers of stuff, magazine racks of stuff, bookshelves of, well, you get the drift. There’s one particular drawer in my kitchen with some knives, a juice-squeezer, tongs, etc. Half the time we open it, it gets stuck. Then you have to root around with your hand to turn something flat so the drawer opens. For instance, we have three pairs of scissors. One of them are the “good scissors”, the ones that work, but we keep the others around “just in case.” When we moved from a house to an apartment we got rid of lots of stuff, like the kids old soccer and baseball equipment, and (sigh) several boxes of lp records, which never made it out of the garage because we just had a cd player.

After all that cleaning out however, we now have new electronic stuff. SInce John is an artist and illustrator, he has even more stuff than I do, but we ran through the list of SWK (Shit We Keep) and came up with the list that appears in this comic. John came up with the electric gooseneck candlelighter, since he actually has one that plugs into a USB port. I still have a butane powered one, though I have no idea where I keep the butane, so when the lighter runs out, I buy more butane to go along with the butane I can’t find, and we wonder how we accumulate so much stuff? How do we avoid getting overrun with it? I have a theory that in every relationship there’s a hoarder and a chucker-outer. I personally have a limit of 3 back issues of any magazine. When we have more than three of any magazine, New York, New Yorker, Bon Appetit, Vanity Fair, I surreptitiously chuck it out. Shhh, don’t tell anyone. But damn, since my wife proof reads the blog every week, she’s going to find out. Oh well.

Have a nice weekend and for our Jewish friends, we hope your fast isn’t too painful (but face it, you’ve probably got a lot to atone for). See you next week.

Andy and John

On losing stuff 09/17/2020

Today’s first comic came right out of a real life experience. It was Friday morning, I was getting my stuff together before leaving to play golf. My cell phone rings. It’s John, asking me a question about next week’s comic. As we spoke, I was busy putting things in a bag. A sandwich, some water, grapes, golf balls, so I was a little distracted. I kept looking around and couldn’t find something. Then I couldn’t remember what it was I couldn’t find. I told John I had to get off the phone so I could find something, and then it occurred to me what I was trying to find. My phone. The very one I had been using to speak with John. Bingo. Comic #1. So that’s the good news. The bad news is this: what level of hell is it when you not only can’t remember where you put something, you also forget what you’re looking for? I’ll say this about that: it doesn’t happen often but it happens more often than it used to. If given the choice, I guess I’d rather lose my phone than my mind. Now, what was I talking about?

Next on your dial is a conversation we had about how much social interaction we allow in our lives. John and his wife Linda have a small core group they socialize with and if people come over to the house, they stay outside. Everyone in the group is mindful and protective about the coronavirus. But what about the people they hang out with, huh? I mean, if you’re the kind of person that limits your grocery shopping to twice a month, do you want to hang out with someone who goes once a week? And who knows how often their friends go grocery shopping anyway? Or eat outside at a restaurant? And now that it’s getting colder, are you willing to eat inside if they limit the seating to 25% capacity? Just how much are you willing to risk for that plate of linguini alla vongole?

So we imagined what it would be like to go over our list of friends and family to decide who makes the cut and who doesn’t this coming season. And how much do we even know about what our partners have done today and how often they’ve washed their hands? All I know is we’ve used an unbelievable amount of question marks in this blog? Even unnecessary ones like in that last sentence.

Well, we hope that answers all your questions and I’d tell you to make sure you read the blog, but you’re already reading it, so never mind.

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

Andy and John

Back to School and Other Fun Topics 09/11/2020

Imagine if you had a kid going back to college. What would you do? Spend up to $70,000 so he/she can sit in a dorm room with a mask and take classes online? And what if you’re a professor like our character Craig? You might think you know your students, but do you really? Craig imagines (hopes) they’ll be on their best behavior. What we imagined? Animal House. Just a quick aside. As I write this today, I may be a bit distracted. Two reasons. One, there’s a crane working outside with a power saw that sounds like either a high-powered dentist’s drill or a gigantic fly. And there’s an actual fly bugging the shit out of me flying around my apartment as I type. Excuse me for a minute. Finally, he’s dead. No, not the guy with the saw, the fly. The fly ended his life being swatted by an issue of People Magazine. At least it’s good for something. But back to college or back to school virtually. I know how I was in college and I know how my friends were back then and it seems like socially distant, responsible behavior is a lot to ask from a bunch of 18-21 year olds. On the other hand, we understand the need for community. This first comic tries to capture the dichotomy.

Next up was what we imagined we might do if we had to get on a plane. My wife’s mother is still alive and turned 99. She lives either a 45 minute plane ride or 6 1/2 hour car ride away. We drove. Let us count the reasons it’s scary to fly. No, in fact let’s not. Instead I will tell you why I am reluctant. One morning, I saw Dr. Joseph Fair, the head infectious disease specialist for NBC on the Today Show. Only he was doing the segment from his hospital bed, where he was recovering from the Coronavirus. He wore a mask, he swabbed down the seats and all the fold-down tables in his row. He was asked how he got it after all those precautions and said, “My best guess is I caught it through my eyes.” Okay, that was enough for yours truly, even though I wear glasses. Maybe if they come up with a hip stylish hazmat suit (anyone for camouflage?), we’ll hop on a plane. But until then, have a wonderful fall and we hope your football team, wherever you live, wins the SuperBowl. As long as it’s the Giants. Okay, John likes the Jets, so them too. And if you’re from somewhere else, don’t worry, neither of our teams has a prayer.

Have a great weekend,

Andy and John