What kind of gravitational time dilation is happening in Milford, where school is still in regular session on July 16? Have they gone to year-round classes without us knowing? This seems like the kind of crap Hobart might’ve pulled during a closed-door school board session to spite Gil and his ex-wife. In any event, no reason for Gil to tell Barry to slow down – time has slowed enough already.
If Barry (who continues to suffer from alopecia areata and
Braying Jackass Exploding Mouth Syndrome) thought the stupid lawyer cost so much, imagine how much a smart one – one who might have kept Del out of jail – would’ve cost! At least over the next few days we’ll finally get to see what a lot of us thought we should’ve seen at least two weeks ago: Gil offer some kind of counseling to poor, delusional, self-absorbed, father figureless Barry, albeit not necessarily of his own volition.
… dead, Mimi.”
“Aw crap. So much for the playdowns.”
Rubin creates a somewhat sympathetic female character, starts giving her nuance and a third dimension, then kills her off. Discuss.
Minor details dept.: Gil’s delicately arched pinky as he holds the phone (‘ello, guv’nor, it ain’t high tea); James Van Der Beek takes the role of Gil in P3.
Reference for today’s post title:
“I’m drinking alone because… I prefer to be by myself.” Stuff just writes itself.
The last time I checked, the “D” in “DUI” stood for “driving,” not “drinking.” Where Hang ’em Hiatt gets off trying to impose morality on those she adjudicates, I don’t know. She should be directing Del not to drink and drive; if he cabs, Ubers, rides the dog or hitches between Center City and Milford, he can release the hounds all he wants. Just don’t get behind the wheel once he decides to cast his sheets to the wind.
Following up from my comment to yesterday’s post: Which old Republican does Del look like today: Ted Cruz, Tricky Dick, Pat Buchanan, or Simple J. Malarkey? I think we can agree on the source of young Master Bader’s nose. C’mon, Whigham, if Gil Thorp is gonna turn into a strip about drinking with a dash of high school sports thrown in, at least draw some gin blossoms on that schnozz.
Oh yeah, speaking of sports: Boo’s gonna lose that no-hitter; any bets as to how?
Okay, back to drinking: I expect Del to get pulled over and locked up by Saturday. At least by sticking to wine and not the hard stuff, he can stand before Ken Brown’s mom next week and assert the Albert Collins Defense.
I ain’t gonna lie: I like today’s strip in a genuine, non-ironic fashion. The first panel could have been lifted straight from a Frank Miller graphic novel (if not a Jack Chick tract). Surprising what Whigham can do when he’s not drawing tonsures, Paulie Walnuts hair and potato noses. Panel two features the kind of teasing you expect in a high school locker room, though Barry’s freckles again take a temporary hiatus. Finally we learn that, besides being an I-before-team guy, Barry also lacks a brain-to-mouth filter.
I suppose on Monday we’ll learn that Stupid Cow “Hang ’em” Hiatt is Ken Brown’s aunt or something or that Darth’s less sympathetic teammates will now start calling him “Dewey” instead of Del. For now let’s just enjoy a Saturday strip that contains reasonably plausible dialogue given the pace of this spring arc.
May 12, 2016
Beyond looking like the love child of Karl Malden and Howdy Doody, Barry Bader* thus far is another one-dimensional, self-before-team guy like we’ve seen so many times before. That may not last for long as Mother Bader (who still doesn’t rate a first name), albeit hesitantly, may be getting ready to drop the bomb on him re Del. Love her Hermey the Elf-like reply to Barry’s inquiry.
May 13, 2016
Continuity errors? Yesterday Dad was late to the game again** and today he’s “almost never late to a game”? Haven’t they only played two games, three tops? Also, Barry’s freckles disappeared, albeit temporarily.
You know, Bader parents, if you wanna have a closed-door conversation, maybe you should actually close the door. Del’s looking very hair-of-the-dog there as he gets dressed for work. Meanwhile Barry’s eyes explode as he begins to put two and two together. If Darth Bader hadn’t been so focused on Barry über alles, maybe he’d have noticed Del was showing up to the games on his bicycle.
* I know there’s been a movement afoot to hang the Baader-Meinhof tag on Barry, but given his nickname “Darth” we can conclude his last nam rhymes with “Vader.” All good with me, as I hope Cousin Diedrich shows up to go all Rex Kwon Do on someone’s ass.
** Speaking of late to the game, apologies for the late Thursday post. Busy work day and time got away from me yesterday.
EES is a serious condition and today we see that it can be hereditary.
If you came to read today’s strip expecting Barry Bader to already be catching crap about his dad’s DUI, you’ll be disappointed. (I know I was.) Guess that news hasn’t traveled as fast as the news of Kenzie Hanley’s jaw-breaking incident at the Winter Blast. All in good time, I’m sure.
We do at least get the beginnings of the Mouseketeer Roll Call with the returning Mike Granger playing Schroeder to pitcher Lalonde’s Charlie Brown. If this is the same Lalonde from last season, he’s a converted outfielder. There’s a Kaz sighting as a base ump, but that’s about the size of it. As a fan of baseball history I’ve been used to seeing “pint-sized” as an adjective describing 1950’s outfielder Ernie Oravetz; given that Master Bader is a second baseman, however, I expect there’ll be a José Altuve name drop somewhere along the line. Being an aggressive baserunner doesn’t necessarily make one a psycho, and telegraphing it to everyone within earshot isn’t really qualifying material either. No, I’d be on the lookout for more Piersallesque behavior before I slapped that tag on him.
It looks like we’re going to get the full story of Del the industrial solvent salesman. Pacing of the baseball season be damned!
When last we saw Del, he was saying his goodbyes to Joe, the friendly bartender at Verne’s. Now he has climbed into a generic, midsize sedan and it looks like he’s swerving his way home to Milford. Did he stop at that Bauhaus inspired BURGER joint to try and sop up a few of those Tito’s & sodas? Not sure. Maybe he slammed on the brakes when he realized he had passed a BURPEE SEEDS OUTLET. He has nonetheless attracted the attention of the law, so let’s look forward to scenes from his field sobriety test and subsequent booking into the Central City lock-up.
It just dawned on me that maybe Whigham told Rubin he was sick of drawing kids playing sports and maybe they could focus on some other stuff for a while. Maybe more dashboards and those little guns that bartenders use to shoot out the carbonated mixers? Sure, Rodd, but we have to occasionally draw the kids doing stuff. You can keep doing the chunky bracelets.
And so we drop into the Bader place, where Barry, player of a scrappy second fills Mother Bader in on practice.
Great. Again. I nailed it, Mom. With my scrappiness and Pete De Windt’s grace…yes, Mom, the Pete De Windt that played tight end, we discussed this…I don’t think there’s anything that will stop us! Games? I don’t know when we start playing games this year. Coach Thorp has been rather evasive about our schedule. I’ll let you know when I know.
Heh heh…scrappy seconds.