On sexy voices and unsexy dining companions 2/19/21

You know those annoying calls? Why are they always about extending your car warranty? And why do they chastise you (“This is the fifth time we’ve tried to reach you…”)? Doesn’t work. Yet they keep trying. But sometimes, sometimes that voice on the other end is kind of sexy. And we know it’s a robot voice, but still. John and I discussed whose voice would be the most attractive to our audience. I pushed for Scarlett Johansson but then John reminded me that our comic is called The New 60 and we settled on a cross between Suzanne Pleshette (from the Bob Newhart Show) and Kathleen Turner (Body Heat, among others). And don’t pretend you don’t know Bob Newhart. Anyway, we thought about how many steps we take to ban these numbers from ever calling us back (kind of like unfriending somebody on FaceBook). I have entered my cell phone number on a National Do Not Call Registery, I’ve blocked individual crank calls so many times it makes me dizzy and I’ve said some pretty rude things to these voices before I realized they are mostly robots. None of it seems to work. But what if you really liked that voice and wanted to save it? What would you do then? And that was the impetus for our first comic.

Comic number two comes straight from the front pages (even if you get your newspaper digitally). In New York State, where we both live, indoor dining is open again in a limited capacity with distance and mask restrictions. But it’s been so long since we’ve been at the diner, we (and our characters) were longing to go back in. But we thought, what did people use to do back when people got together? The first thing was pulling out your cell phone and sharing adorable pictures of your family. And we thought, that would be pretty tough from 6-feet apart. For all you naysayers out there, we didn’t put them in masks, since a) they were socially distant and b) you can’t eat with a mask on. But rest assured (at least in your imagination) that they will be putting their masks back on when they leave. Even if they’ve received their first vaccinations.

So that’s the show for this week. Have a great weekend, and if you’re in Texas, we pray you have a warm weekend as well. See you next week with two new ones,

Andy and John

On Covid Shots and Almond Milk 2/12/21

A couple of weeks ago, my wife had to go back home to Pittsburgh. As I drove her to the airport, she asked me to be sure I booked us Covid-19 vaccinations. I breezily said, “No problem.” As we’d speak each night, she’d ask, “Did you book the appointments yet?” And each night I’d say, “No, I can’t find one.” This routine started to elevate to a different level, when my answer was met with a, “Well Peter and Renee (friends) got them.” And soon enough, it seemed like almost everyone we knew over the age of 65 had managed to get one. But not me. When she came back over a week later, she tried herself, and (much to my inner satisfaction), she couldn’t find one either. And then she was on the phone with yet ANOTHER 65+ friend, who had gotten hers. When Joanie asked her friend how she got it, the friend said, “Oh, I asked my niece. She’s gotten appointments for her parents, and us, she just knows what to do.” Then came the follow up question: “Would it be too much of an imposition to ask her if she could schedule one for Andy and me?” Within the next five minutes, we had appointments for our first shots. We had been given two gifts, our first Covid vaccinations and today’s first comic. Plus, I was freed from answering “Did you book the shots yet” question and from giving the “No, not yet” reply. Which is always helpful.

Onto comic two. We have a habit in my family of buying almond milk, using a little then forgetting about it. Judging from some responses to this comic on Facebook, almond milk is not universally loved. One of our readers, Ed Comiskey from Florida, wrote that his favorite recipe for almond milk was to open the container and pour it down the drain. Works for me. I guess it’s good for making smoothies, but c’mon now. Have you ever tried to milk an almond? Hint: doesn’t work. But if you want to live a vegan life, be my guest. I won’t judge. Well, maybe a little. And please don’t invite me over for dinner. Also consider this: Tom Brady, whose TB12 diet includes no dairy, probably drinks almond milk, and what the hell has he ever accomplished?

So that’s it for this week. We will see you again next Friday with two new ones, and if you haven’t gotten your vaccinations yet, don’t fret, Walgreens and CVS are coming to the rescue, and everybody over 60 knows how to find one of those.

Andy and John

Winter Wonderland 2/5/21

Newsflash: it hasn’t exactly been the easiest winter. Now in addition to Covid and Marjorie Taylor Greene, we had a huge snowstorm, another is on the way, and Tom Brady is back in the Super Bowl. Yeah, that Tom Brady. In a pathetic attempt to be topical, your intrepid cartoonists decided to do a Super Bowl comic this week and another about shoveling snow. First of all, it’s important to note that we have entirely different perspectives on the aforementioned Tom Brady, The GOAT (Greatest Of All Time). While I am a Giants fan and we beat Tom and the Patriots not once, but twice, in two Super Bowls, John is a Jets fan and they have had decidedly less success against Mr. Brady. Secondly, through a weird glitch in the universe, both my children were born during Giants Super Bowl winning years, although not against Brady. So the inspiration for watching with your baby comes with experience. Truth be told, it was John’s suggestion, even though it was my experience. My solution, back in ‘86 and ‘90 was to offer my wife the following deal, “Honey, I’ll watch the baby (and in the case of our second child {the kids} all day), but when it comes kickoff time, I’m off duty.” And since my wife doesn’t really care about football, she was only too happy to comply. Now back to the comic. It is my contention that John has been psychologically bruised by having Brady and the Pats beat on his beloved Jets time and time again. So it was no accident when he thought it would be funny to have the baby spit up on his Tom Brady jersey. I don’t think that makes up for all the beat downs but hey, every little bit helps.

Now onto the second comic. I have a friend who is a stand-up comic and writes for Jimmy Kimmel. She once said about Facebook, “They should call it In your Face… Book.” You know, people telling you how much better their life is than your life. How great their vacation is, their relationship is, their kids are, etc. Well that’s kind of the way it is with a lot of snowbirds. I can’t prove it but I have a sneaking suspicion they get a little kick when it’s 78 degrees and sunny outside and they’re lounging in the pool with a pina colada, while we are shoveling 18 inches of snow off our driveways. The reason I suspect this is because that’s exactly how I’d feel if I’d have been smart enough to move someplace warm. And why is it that we Northerners can come up with no better excuse than, “We like the change of seasons?” Don’t get me wrong, the change of seasons is nice, but so is watching the Super Bowl from a hot tub, while nursing a beer and cigar, like I did a few years back at my cousin’s house in Florida. After which, my wife and I flew back home and enjoyed the hell out of the rest of the winter.

That’s it for this week. And before signing off, I’d like to celebrate the life and times of my mother-in-law Charlotte Bluestone, a selfless, loving soul who passed away at the age of 99 1/2 years. You’ll be missed. We will be back to you next week with two new comics. Thanks for reading.

Andy and John

Meditations on Meditation 1/29/21

A couple weeks ago I was in a virtual meeting via Zoom. I was feeling a bit stressful when a friend of mine, Rena DeLevie, sent me an article she had written for HuffPost on the topic of meditation, a sort of how to guide that said to me, however you want to go about it, do it like that. I thought about how I used to do it on the Metro North Railroad, while wearing noise-cancelling headphones, how I would shut myself in a room at home and invariably end up falling asleep, or how I used to purloin one of the rooms set aside for lactating women at work so that I could have a 20 minute session when the need to meditate came on. The article gave me such a good laugh, I shared it with John and it became the inspiration for our three-part series on, you guessed it, meditation. Here is a link to Rena’s very funny guide to meditation:
https://www.huffpost.com/entry/a-feisty-guide-to-meditat_b_9421350

This week you saw the final two installments of our three-part series. In part two Marv picks out a mantra, at Al’s urging. As the aforementioned article said, anything will work. Well, this actually pisses me off since my wife and I paid a small fortune to get our mantras “specially chosen for us” by some Maharishi named Katz at a Westchester Center for TM (don’t ask how much, ‘cause I’m not telling). In fact, and this may go into the category of TMI or Too Much Information (for you folks that hate acronyms) but I frequently push away thoughts of my next meal when meditating. So when the article mentioned tuna fish as a possible mantra, John and I just ran with it. By the way, I do recall my maharishi or guru (or whatever you call him) telling me NOT to meditate right after a meal. “It’s better to be alert,” he said. Well, I beg to differ, unless you want to keep muttering “guacamole” as you put myself into a restful state.

The third and final installment comes from the TM (that’s Transcendental Meditation for you acronym haters) teachings on meditation. They tell you to concentrate on clearing your mind by repeating your mantra softly, to yourself. If you said it out loud, people would likely think you were crazy for talking to yourself about suuuu-shi rollllls, or tuuuu-na or whatever it is you’ve chosen (see, I’m writing this around lunchtime and can’t help the damn food references). The trouble comes with the clearing your mind part. It’s like that old saying, try not to notice the elephant in the room. It’s all you can notice. Try not to think of anything else except your mantra, go ahead, I dare ‘ya. But eat first, trust me.

So that’s it for this week. Thanks as always for reading The New 60 and the blog and for passing it on to your friends. We will see you next week with two new ones and no, they will not be about meditation.

Andyyyyyyy and Johnnnnnnn

FRIENDS 1/22/21

I think as we get older, we get a bit more unfiltered. We don’t agree to as many things as we used to agree to and we don’t just go along for the sake of going along as much either. In other words, we become more cantankerous. Today’s first comic results from an inability to filter. And it comes from personal experience. Back when I was working in advertising, sometime in the 18th century, there was a woman who worked for me who used to regularly break down in tears or get worked up into hysterics, and, suddenly, she seemed noticeably calmer. I asked her what was different. She told me she had embarked on Transcendental Meditation and it had changed her life. She even showed me a secret hiding place to meditate during work hours. We worked in a huge NYC high rise on the 32nd floor, but right off the second floor, there was a secret side door just to the left of where the company cafeteria was located. There stood 7 rooms reserved for lactating mothers. At most one or two of these would be in use at a time. She would simply claim one, slide the in use tab outside the door, lock the door and sit in the easy chair with her eyes closed for 20 minutes. Heaven. When she exited, she was refreshed and ready to take on the rest of her day. And she didn’t even have to lactate. So I went to take a course in TM along with my wife and it was terrific. But, I’m ashamed to say, I took my colleague up on her secret the very day after my course had ended and used one of those 7 lactating rooms. Fortunately no one ever saw me exiting, because I had no idea what I might say. “No, you don’t understand, it’s not what it looks like…” But I digress. The funny thing is that after paying a semi-exorbitant amount for my wife and I to get our training and our own personal mantras, a friend pointed out that you could get mantras for free simply by going online. Way to harsh my mellow, dude. And if you want to know what that means in English, it means “way to ruin my peaceful mood.” And so was born today’s first comic.

Our second comic came from John enlisting his wife to hold up the big screen tv while he attempted to connect it to an extending, rotating arm he installed in the back of the wall. Note: this is a major difference between us, I just call the super (I believe it has something to do with growing up Jewish but I cannot prove it). So he wondered, what would happen if we tried to call our friends to help us with a physically demanding task? What would their excuse be if they no longer had to work? And this is where our age difference came into play (I am 5 years older than John). I wanted the excuses to be, “Oh I can’t, I’m having an endoscopy, while John was more in the “Oh I can’t, I’m taking the family on a ski trip,” vein. Since I can’t even draw a stick figure and since his version was more optimistic, guess who won. But in the words of the hit play Hamilton, I say to you John, “Just you wait!”

So that’s it for this week but we will be back next week with parts 2 and 3 of our meditation series. Try it, you’ll like it.

Have a great and safe weekend

Andy and John

Kicking 2021 Off To a Healthy Start 1/15/21

We all make them. We all break them. New Year’s resolutions. I knew somebody a few years back who paid to go to a boot camp, a military-style exercise/torture experience several mornings per week in New York’s Central Park. And when I say mornings, I mean like 5:30 am. This person would dutifully show up, along with a few other hearty souls and proceed to get put through the paces by a drill sergeant, yelling at them to get up, jump higher, calling them endearing names like “maggot” and screaming that they weren’t going fast enough or hard enough. And they paid money for this. Full disclosure, the maniacal training program CrossFit came to my hometown about 15 years ago and before I joined up, I paid the instructor for 3 private sessions, just to see what it was like. Now it should have been a sign that the instructor came to the second session with a cast on his left wrist, but he said it was “nothing, just a little strain” so I carried on. Each session comprised of 3 to 4 exercises. You’d do them and get the form down, and then at the end, you’d see how many sets of the exercises you could fit in a space of 8 to 10 minutes. What could go wrong lifting kettlebell weights as fast as you can from a squat to a stand and back down again? Plenty. I quit when I had to cancel a golf game due to a strained back. I thought, what are you going to do more of in your later years, golf with friends or swing kettlebells under the watchful eye of some freak with a cast on his wrist? Golf won. Though truth be told, I was probably more adept at the kettlebell. CrossFit was the inspiration for Marv’s tire flip, and we think Marv had the right idea by rolling the tire. Who in their right mind would want to flip the damn thing? And by the way, my local CrossFit went out of business.

Our next comic comes from the many mutual family meals John and I have had with our grown children. Now that restaurants are not feasible for the time being we have eaten at our kids’ houses or they have come to us. And, like everything else, food has undergone radical changes. No longer will our children eat Hershey Bars (unless they are under 7 and it’s Halloween). I found an oat milk, 58% cacao, cane sugar free, unroasted dark chocolate bar at my daughter’s house, though to be fair, when I teased her about it, it turned out my wife bought it for her. At any rate, just like our parents had to get used to long hair and bell-bottom jeans, pre-marital sex and rock and roll, we have to get used to cage free eggs, Beyond Meat, gluten-free bread and plant-based proteins. This comic was a nod to that. As a service to our readers, please don’t fall for gluten-free potato chips. All potato chips are gluten-free. We have a really good upscale pizza parlor near us that serves regular (as opposed to gluten-free) pizza but on the very same menu features gluten-free fried chicken. As my grandma used to say “Go figure”. And as I say, “I have no idea what gluten is, but I know I want more.”

See you next week with two new ones.

Andy and John

Dating in the time of Corona 1/8/21

I was speaking to a friend of mine and asking about her son and his girlfriend. She said they were doing fine (always code for not so great) but that the girlfriend was complaining he never took her anywhere. They never went out, she hadn’t met his friends, etc. All they did was stay over at each other’s apartments and watch tv or movies and order take out. I secretly thought, “sounds pretty good to me,” and John thought it was perfect fodder for our bachelor character, Craig. We added in a few things he never did so it would seem more appropriate for a 60-something and our first comic was born. But it does speak to a deeper truth. Guys in general are happier doing less and women (again, in general) are more social and want to go out, introduce you to their friends, their family and can’t imagine why you wouldn’t want the same. Now I know, this is a sexist generalization but still…

As for me, I’d rather leave what I’m doing (whatever it is) and get back home. Of course, so I can write all you loving fans this blog, that’s the ONLY reason.

Onto the second comic which is spurred again by reality. John heard about somebody with one of these fancy schmancy home security systems which had been sitting in a box at home for a couple months. Now this system apparently has amazing capabilities. It monitors activities at your front door and sends them to your smartphone so you know what’s going on at home on those rare occasions when you actually do go out. The trouble was two-fold: 1) It looked complicated and this person was busy with a bunch of projects so the box just sat there. And 2) the user pays a monthly fee to the security company for the monitoring service, whether or not they’ve decided to take the damn thing out of the box. Fortunately, for this person, his daughter came to visit for Christmas and set it up for him so the problem was solved, but that doesn’t make for a very good comic. So, we came up with the “thrown the box at the robber “ ending which while not practical, would really hurt. Also, the fact that the person in question might be John would also hurt his ego, so we will never reveal whether or not this was based on his own experience. If you want to find out, you’ll have to read about it in the blog. Oh, wait a minute, this is the blog. Sorry, not telling.

Happy New Year and as Jackie Gleason would say: away we go (for 2021). See you next week.

Andy and John

GOOD RIDDANCE 2020, HAPPY NEW YEAR '21 1/1/21

Let us count the reasons to be cheerful that 2020 is finally in the rearview mirror. I cannot begin to describe the thrill of typing “1/1/21” into this blog. First of all, it signifies two less keystrokes because now, you only have to write “21” whereas before you had to write “2020”. Okay it’s a stretch but there’s plenty of other reasons to celebrate as well. The corona vaccine is becoming a reality. A new administration is taking over (no matter which side of the aisle you’re on, the new guy really did win). Hopefully we can move in a new direction and tackle this thing to the ground once and for all. And hopefully John won’t have to keep drawing masks over the funny and farcical expressions he so expertly draws.

We presented you this morning with a John special, a Happy New Year Poster where we take out our frustrations on 2020 by kicking the ever-loving crap out of it. Hey, it’s a legal way to let off some steam. Don’t judge.

And we imagined what it might look like for a 32-year-old living at home to wake up on Christmas morning to find his parents in matching pajamas. He’d conclude it was time to get his own place. And we’d be inclined to agree. We will follow his travels and travails this year.

And finally, we would be remiss without thanking each and every one of our readers personally for your loyalty in reading and following us each week. For sending us on to your friends. For “liking” us on social media. For reading the blog. And so John is going to get into his SUV and go across each and every one of our 50 states to visit and thank…okay, he’s not doing any of that and neither am I. But please accept an electronic thanks from the bottom of our very human hearts. You guys are the best. And hopefully, we will have a book available for the holidays next year.

Stay safe and happy,

Andy and John

Happy Holidays 12/25/2020

Happy Holidays. And good riddance to 2020, though we’re supposed to save that sentiment for next week’s blog. Anyhow, with holiday season upon us we did a holiday themed two pack of comics. Now I celebrate Hanukkah and John is a Christmas guy, so we settled on this idea which gave a shout out to the both of us. But what about Festivus, you ask? Good question. Did you know, that was actually a thing before Seinfeld? No kidding. It seems that one Mr. Daniel O’Keefe of Readers Digest made it up in the ‘60’s, because he was tired of family squabbles around the holidays. He even called for sitting around the table for the Airing of Grievances. I kid you not. And get this, his son Dan became a writer for Seinfeld and wrote the Festivus episode which made the made up holiday famous. For those of you keeping count, the official date is December, 23rd, the date the elder O’Keefe had his first date with his future wife. But I digress. The storing and retrieving of ornaments is apparently such a struggle, it’s almost not worth it. I wouldn’t know. I’m a Jew. But my daughter, who for years, yearned for a tree, showed us and eventually married a Methodist and has that damned tree every year!

As for the holiday card, well that sprung from the mind of John. It’s tough to kiss from 6-feet apart, and by the way, that’s a hell of a lot of mistletoe.

So whether you have your holidays on zoom or together wearing masks, stay safe and we will see you next week with a new comic and a New Year’s poster wishing 2020 a not very fond farewell.

And if this blog seems a bit short, well, cartoonists get some time off too.

See you next week,

Andy and John

Smart Devices 12/18/2020

Smart devices. They all promise to make our lives so much better. But are we smart enough to use them? There are smart refrigerators that tell you when you’re running low on milk, smart toaster ovens that know what you’ve put inside them and how long to bake or broil said item, smart watches, phones, tv’s, and I’m not smart enough to go on with more examples. Our first comic this week deals with a smartphone. Now if you are like me or John, you’ve gotten rid of your landline because it was just an expensive relic that did nothing more than receive useless junk calls. As time went on, my wife and I started ignoring our landline when it rang and our friends and family only called our cell phones. Eventually, the robocallers or bots caught on and now our smartphones get as many junk calls as our landlines used to get. Ahh, but we were smart, so we thought, so we’d outsmart our smartphones. First thing we did was sign up to the National Do Not Call Registry. Total waste of time. Next option was to immediately hang up after each call from Bluffton, Tenn. or Portsmouth, NH, where we didn’t know a soul. Then go into last call, info, and finally, block caller. Also not worth a hot damn. Because as soon as you block this particular number, whoever it is just calls you back on another number. As the pirates used to say, arghhhhhh! So we made a comic out of it. If anyone has any suggestions about how to defeat these seemingly endless crank calls, we’d love to hear about it and we’ll post it on the site, but until then, just don’t answer.

Next up is the smartwatch. I wonder if this happens to you. Almost every night I’ll be sitting on my couch around 10:30 or 11 when I feel a bump on my wrist. Inevitably it’s my watch, telling me it’s time to breathe. And immediately I think, do I really need a reminder telling me it’s time to breathe? Isn’t that sort of obvious? I mean, don’t you need to breathe to be able to sort of, ‘ya know, live? Oh I know, they mean deep breathing, in through the nose, out through the mouth, but still, soooo annoying. What’ll it do next, tell me when it’s time to stand? Oh wait, it already does that. This next part is no joke. Kara Swisher from the N.Y. Times wrote that she bought a new watch to test for a column she was writing. The watch measured her pulse and told her, among other things, that she seemed upset at 4:46 pm yesterday and happy at 9:27 pm. Can’t you see it now, an ad for an antidepressant or Tito’s Vodka at 4:47 followed by a promo for a new romantic comedy at 9:28? The more and more devices are thinking for us, the less and less we are being asked to think for ourselves. Now if only someone can come up with a program to write this blog I can lie down and take a nap. John, who cannot be replaced by a bot, is busy working on our Christmas Card.

Have a great weekend and Happy Holidays,

Andy and John

Crossing the Line 12/11/2020

I remember going on safari many moons ago and we passed over an airplane tarmac where there were a group of rhinos. They passed over the pavement onto the grass heading for a grass circle. One of the young males kicked at the grass and mud and peed on it. The guide breathlessly explained that this circle had been created by the elder and that the young male was carving out his territory by pissing on and kicking the elder’s territory. It was quite a sight indeed. Now you’re probably thinking, have I lost my mind? Why am I bringing this up? The answer to the first question is: probably yes. And to the second: because we’re all animals and we all mark our territories. There’s my stuff and there’s your stuff and never the line shall be crossed. It’s called territory. There’s stuff that goes on my side and stuff that goes on your side. But what happens to the stuff we share? Like toilet paper? Or, in the case of this comic, cotton balls? It seems to John and me that these items usually find their way to the side with less stuff. Sharing means caring, or something like that.

Now the other comic is a little idiosyncratic thing from yours truly. When people stop me and say, you know who you look like? The answer is always, Larry David. Now, I don’t see it, (If you want to see my picture, go to our website thenew60comic.com and click on the tab “the creators”) but I do think I act like him. At least sometimes. And this comic is one of those times. The key to his character, I’ve always felt, is “the world is out to get me.” So in this case, when Al pushes the lobby button in an elevator, and somebody gets on after him and pushes the very same button he pushed, it is an affront. Why did she do that? Did she not think he did it correctly? Judging from the comments’ section, not many other people think this way, which says something good about the world, if not about this writer’s psyche.

So that’s it for this week, as we rocket our way to the end of 2020 (thank the lord). We’ll be back to you next week with two new ones.

Stay safe

Andy and John

An Exercise in Futility 12/04/2020

As far as I can tell there are two schools of thought when it comes to exercise. There’s the “Oh My God, I’d Rather Stick Burning Embers Under My Fingernails” school and there’s the “No Day is Complete Unless I Get My Work Out In” school. I belong to the second (in case you’re wondering, golf in an electric cart counts). I will workout unless the weather outside is particularly terrible. And in that case, I’ve got a gym in walking distance. But then Covid hit. And it turns out my local gym reported a case of Covid. And it turns out, the person who got Covid lives in my building. On my floor. And it turns out, we play golf together every Friday in the nice weather, so now it’s back to exercising outside. My friend, by the way, is recovering nicely. And I hurriedly got a test and it was negative. So unsurprisingly, both of this week’s comics have to do with how to get and stay in shape during the pandemic.

One way is to order one of those treadmills which promise the experience of a gym class (think spin class but on a treadmill) in the privacy of your home. Now I know people love them, but, if you’ve ever taken a gym class, you can find much to hate about them as well. Hell, some of them are even called “boot camps.” No thank you very much. John and I discussed it and we found different things to hate. For me, it was the instructor with the headset and microphone yelling at me over the blaring disco music. Disco music? Who the hell listens to disco music anymore? Apparently, these people do. Or maybe it’s not called disco anymore. Maybe it’s EDM (electronic dance music for you old farts) but whatever, it was a horrible experience I will never repeat. For John, it was the yelling. But screaming, virtual instructors aside, these things are amazing. You can walk, you can hike (can somebody please explain the difference to me?), you can jog or run, you can look at the instructor as she/he implores/induces/screams at you to keep going. Hell, you can even have the virtual instructor take over the machine for you and make the incline harder as they he/she/they ramps up the speed while you watch the sun set over the Cinque Terra instead of watching the screaming virtual instructor. Well, you get the drift.

The other comic this week stems from a story I told John about a sweatshirt I bought when staying in Westwood, CA, to shoot a commercial. Having some free time one day, I roamed the UCLA campus and went into the bookstore and bought a UCLA sweatshirt, which to this day remains one of my favorite sweatshirts to work out in. Except. Except I never attended UCLA, never thought about going there, my kids didn’t go there, my wife didn’t go there, nobody I’m related to went there, and almost every time I wear the damn thing and go out for a walk or jog, someone gives me a thumbs up and yells something about the school, like Go Bruins! And I fail to react because I don’t even realize they’re talking to me until several steps later, at which point they’ve written me off as a complete jerk. So now, it has become the sweatshirt of last resort, unless I can cover it up with a down vest or a parka. Upon hearing this story, John (who loves to laugh at my expense) had already written and done a rough sketch of the comic.

So that’s it for this week as we roar into December and the holiday season. Stay safe and thanks for being such a good and loyal audience. We really appreciate it, and that’s no joke.

Andy and John

Thanks for nuthin' 2020 11/27/2020

2020 can kiss our collective butts goodbye. But before it goes we ended our three part advertising saga and John did a Covid-themed Norman Rockwell poster for Thanksgiving. First, about Thanksgiving. We hope you enjoyed yours. We’ll have a distant one, with one kid and her husband in Brooklyn and our son in Colorado. While John and Linda will have two family members visiting and for the rest an equally scattered holiday. For all the wonderful memories Thanksgiving brings, there’s also the political arguments, the aggressive cheek pinching, and drunk uncles falling asleep watching football, so at least there’s a little bit less of that, though to be truthful, this was written before Thanksgiving and I might have too much wine, affectionately pinch Joanie’s cheek and fall asleep watching football, but not during the Steelers-Ravens night game, which might actually be exciting. And I have one question about turkey. If it’s so unbelievably damn good, why does nobody think about making it any other night of the year? Ever? Just asking.

Now onto the ad thing. We all love funny Super Bowl ads with great jokes and visuals at the end, like 90-year-old Abe Vigoda getting tackled at the end of a Dorito’s commercial a few years back. But almost nobody admits to liking a good jingle. We remember them, that’s for sure, but like them? Well, that’s a different story. We all like things we are embarrassed to admit. I, for instance, like Neil Diamond. And This Is Us. As well as a good jingle. But you didn’t hear that here. And when Al is confronted by his buddy on how well the jingle served his business, he was forced to admit it did pretty damned well. That’s his story and he’s sticking with it.

As 2020 comes to close to a close, we hope a vaccine is around the corner followed by a sense of normalcy and hopefully a book of New 60 Comics which will be a perfect holiday gift for next year, hint, hint.

Have a great weekend and we’ll see you next week which is already December. Yikes, how time flies,

Andy and John

On Advertising 11/20/2020

Ahh advertising. It’s a career I spent 39 years in and John spent almost as long (he’s just 5 years younger). And it’s a career I’d like to think we know a little bit about. A little bit. And it’s the career we used to do before this new career as underemployed cartoonists. So when we were talking about new topics to explore for some upcoming strips, we thought, why not write about advertising? Al has a pizza franchise, Pizza-on-a-Stick, so let him try to come up with a new campaign that will take his franchise to the moon (that’s the way they talk in advertising). They say stuff like, “We want to own the casual dining experience.” Or, “We want to own the weekend.” Now the question is, who exactly gave you ownership of a particular day of the week/time of day/mealtime/or made you the official non-alcoholic beverage of the Kansas City Royals? And the answer is, who cares? And that attitude is probably why we’re both doing a comic strip instead of creating ads. That and being over 60, which is a fate worse than death (unless you own the agency, and maybe not then either), but I digress. From our years in the ad wars, we know that franchises like Al’s are given ads from “Corporate Headquarters” in places like Akron, Topeka or Cincinnati. Usually, they hate it. And frequently the individual franchisees want to run their own stuff. And therein lies the tension for the first two comics in our three part series. The third and final part is coming next Tuesday.

Here’s a dirty little secret about most creative people. They thumb their noses at pop culture, figuring anyone can do that, but what I do, now that’s special. So Al’s reaction is based somewhat on that emotion. But he doesn’t want to admit to that so he latches onto another popular trend that has taken off, thanks to the internet. Crowd sourcing. What does that mean, you ask? It means fielding ideas from the crowd (online in general, but in this case from his store employees) for free, but then you only have to pay the person if their idea has actually been chosen. It’s just another way for an agency to not have to pay so many employees. It doesn’t matter if the ideas stink, they’re free! Well, in this case, the crowd sourced idea is so bad, it matters. And the trouble is, even though Al detests that jingle, he can’t top it. More on that next Tuesday.

Anyone want to crowd source some comics?

Have a great weekend

Andy and John

Getting in Shape 11/13/2020

Happy Friday the 13th. You know, there’s all different kinds of getting in shape. You could be in shape for running a marathon, but that does not get you in shape for bringing up a new baby. You could be in shape for being a college student, partying all night and still managing to go to class the next day, while staying up all night the next night studying to pass the test you’re about to take the day after that. That’s one kind of shape. But it doesn’t prepare you for the kind of shape you have to be in to commute while working a full-time job. And that doesn’t prepare you for the kind of shape you have to be in to work a full-time job while being a new parent. Suddenly those mid-week all-night parties are a thing of the past, or else you too will be a thing of the past. At least at work. So Al, in our first comic, preps for watching sports on a Sunday afternoon from 9:30 am all the way through Sunday Night Football which usually doesn’t end until 11:30 pm or midnight. Now that takes a certain type of stamina. So I’ve heard. It can be done, but you have to allow for a few naps along the way. Especially if there’s beer and hot dogs involved. And chips. And guac. Not to mention salsa. A chocolate chip cookie. And the occasional 5 mg. gummy. Again I reiterate, not that I’d know.

Now onto our second comic, which was actually the third in our “Sam’s a New Dad” trilogy. I know, it’s not as intergalactically impressive as saying “The Star Wars Trilogy,” but first of all, “Star Wars“ had a much bigger ad budget and secondly, they had about 6,000 movies so how the hell is that a trilogy? “Sam’s a New Dad” is a real, honest to goodness, trilogy. It takes us all the way from when he first became a new dad to when he settled in to becoming a new dad. Now maybe that doesn’t sound like a very long journey to you but remember those first few days of first-time parenthood? That was a looooong journey. Now imagine going through it at age 60. At this age, what he lacks in energy, he makes up for in money and (hopefully) patience. And that explains the $900 jogging stroller, a “must-have” for any new parent of means.

All right, have a happy Friday the 13th unless you have triskaidekaphobia (fear of the number 13). If that’s the case we gently suggest, GET OVER IT!

ps: I never heard of triskaidekaphobia either until John, aka Mr. Smarty Pants, brought it up

See you next week with two brand new comics and a brand-new saga.

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

New Rules 10/30/2020

With apologies to Bill Maher, we’ve stolen the end title of his show to make a semi-clever headline for the blog. Shameless, I know. And it applies more to the second comic in your scroll anyway, so the hell with it. First off, we wanted the chance to showcase some of John’s other talents. Besides illustrating and writing and animating, he is a renowned pumpkin carver every Halloween. But what if you weren’t so renown and your grandchild wanted to carve pumpkins with you? What would you do then, huh? You’d have to pretend you knew what you’re talking about wouldn’t you? I ask because neither of us are grandparents yet but one of us is about to become one in May, God willing. We will reveal who when the time comes. Anyway, there’s only a short period of time when your kids think you know everything, and if you’re reading this blog, chances are your kids have figured you out a long time ago. (Okay, an extremely long time ago.) But then there are the grandkids, and for a few years, we can still fool them. But some kids are more artistic than others and in this case, you can’t even fool them. So this first Halloween comic is a take at how it feels when the kid figures you out. (In my case I knew I was done artistically when my daughter hit 1st grade. She had to do a diorama about the Wild West in a shoe box for class. When she asked me for cotton balls to represent clouds, I knew I was toast.) I’m sure John’s kids had a higher bar to climb.

Our second spot came out of our New England trip. This is the third and final comic from that trip but it centered on outdoor dining. Our kids are way more responsible than we are during the pandemic, mostly because they don’t want to be the cause of us keeling over. So each night of the two nights we were there, we ate outside. In October. In Maine. At night. And did I mention we were outside? One night the restaurant had large propane lamps and we asked the waiter if he could please move the one over there just a wee bit closer to our table. Immediately there were howls of protest from the table who’d had it moved closer to them before we got there, the bastards. Thankfully they were on dessert when we were just starting, so as soon as they signed their check, boom, we moved the lamp closer. But on the second night, well no such luck. No heat lamps. Because every freakin’ restaurant for miles around had ordered them way before so there are no more to be had. And here’s a public service. You know the kind where you can see flames all the way up the stem? Well they’re not as good as the mushroom shaped ones with the flame only at the top. The curved top makes the heat radiate down towards you. So if you insist on eating outside this winter, remember this tip. And also, buy some stock in a propane gas company. But what I most remembered about our cold, outside, non-heated meals were the attempted smiles on everyone’s faces, as if to say, no problem here, we’re being responsible AND we’re enjoying the hell out of ourselves. The truth was revealed when the waiter asked us if anyone wanted coffee or dessert and the whole table simultaneously shouted, “NO!” before the waiter could finish his sentence. My softly uttered “Cappuccino and creme brulee please” got lost under the emphatic roar of the “no.” John came up with the “anyone interested in our blanket menu” line and we thought that was a more unexpected way to go, so there you have it. But truth be told, I’m still a little peeved about missing out on the creme brulee.

So th-th-th-that’s all folks for this week. Enjoy your no trick or treat Halloween and prepare for your no family Thanksgiving and we will see you (virtually, of course) next week with two new ones.

But first, a long awaited promise to show you a link to John’s pumpkin carving expertise. It’s worth it, if you can figure out how to open it. Which of course depends on my ability to copy and paste it. Here goes:

https://www.facebook.com/outrageouspumpkins

Happy Halloween,

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

Too Much Info (TMI) 10/16/2020

We all know about TMI, too much information. It’s like when a little kid asks, “where do babies come from,” and you tell them the real truth, “You see the man sticks his…” that’s classic TMI. All the kid wants to hear is, “The stork drops them off through the chimney,” or some similar nonsense. But this tendency to divulge too much happens in all aspects of our lives. Note the endless shows about politics and what this crucial decision means moving forward, but if each state can do “x”, than that will result in “y”, which will overturn our entire system of justice and our democracy will be at stake. Both John and I have inquired about participating in making phone calls encouraging people to get out and vote. And we got to wondering, how would those phone calls be received by the people we were calling? There are actual training sessions available teaching you how to deal with the recipients of said calls. “1) Engage their level of interest, if it’s high go to b) if not, revert to point a). Nowhere do they tell you what to do if the recipient of your call tells you to go f#*k yourself, which we imagine might occur on a fairly regular basis. Now of course, we are both from the New York area which might account for our cynical views, but it formed the basis for the first comic today. It’s another example of the cliche, “No good deed goes unpunished.”

Next up came from a trip my family took a couple of weeks ago to Portland, Maine at the same time John’s family went to Cape Cod. Several good ideas for future comics came out of these mutual trips, but today’s emanated from a Sunday morning visit to Holy Donuts in Portland. I have a very good friend who has a wicked love for donuts. To make you hate him even worse, he’s really thin, not an ounce of body fat on him. But man, does he love donuts. So when we told him we were heading off to Portland, he said, you’ve got to try Holy Donuts. They’re made with real Maine potatoes. Now what is a potato doing inside a donut? I don’t know and I don’t care but it tasted great. Like the best donut I can ever remember eating. But back to the TMI thing. Me, my wife, daughter and son-in-law stood outside the line debating what to order. There were more flavors than I ever knew existed. What happened to the glazed cake donut, or the chocolate donut with icing and sprinkles or, heaven forbid, the old-fashioned jelly donut? When we approached the counter, we read the menu. And not only were there choices like lemon zest or coffee cake or maple-glazed with bacon, there were all those versions in gluten-free or vegan varieties — not the bacon one, of course, which is what I ordered—but all the rest. And lest I forget , one of the flavors I requested was sold out, however if I wanted the sweet potato donut version as opposed to the regular potato version, I was welcome to order it. I declined. But it made for a pretty funny idea for a comic. I have one question about the whole experience. Was the line so long because the donuts were so delicious (they were everything my skinny friend promised they would be) or was it so long because there was too much damn information about the myriad number of donut choices available? Verdict, I don’t know and after my first bite, I no longer cared.

Thanks for sticking around to read the blog and if you like reading it as much as I enjoy writing it, then please tell your friends about it. Thanks and we’ll see you next week with two new ones.

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