Nothing like a good old fashioned house party to close out the basketball season. In fact its not a bad idea for any team to do this. When I coached youth baseball we had a party at my assistants house shortly after we won the league title in ’98. Of course it was more like a victory party too but the thought was – lets get together one last time before we head our separate ways for the summer. I had some time to chat with parents I had mostly only spoken to on the phone all season, and it was a nice way to end the season.
And hey, one more chance to see Divot Head before he re-applies for kindergarten.
We find out that Chris was going to .. Tufts https://www.tufts.edu/ before he changed his mind and opted for Wisconsin. And since Alexa is gonna be a Hoosier, (guess she couldnt get a basketball scholarship with her low scoring totals) its only fitting that this plot ends with them still being rivals.
I suppose for a student of Chris’ stature, Tufts would be suitable for him. Not quite Ivy league, but still very small and private, its cost after aid is $33,000 a year, compared to Wisconsin “only’ costing $20,000. Maybe he figured he not only will be more on the map if he plays sports, he’ll have more dough in case he doesnt get drafted by the pros.
And thats the smartest audible we’ve seen since Gil introduced the veer.
He walked into Milford getting A’s and B’s
Aint no doubt about it was Gil he aimed to please.
We should have known better than to assume that Thorpiverse was going to wrap this up any time soon. Like, what was Mrs. Brown Haired Counselor going to do, shoot Alexa cold dead with a Magnum and award Valedictorian to Chris by default? Gotta hand it to Thorpiverse. Cut that Gordian Knot and get baseball started sometime this week. Wouldn’t put it past Thorpiverse, but no, odds are this’ll get dragged out to The Bitter End. Being a Husker Du fan, they had a CD called The Living End. Both concepts have one song in common. It’s Not Funny Anymore. Put the gun away, ma’am, and let us continue to our exercise in boredom.
You would assume that Gil is getting the field ready for baseball, ditto Mimi in softball. I’d hate to know Gil is under the desk eavesdropping and making sure things are kosher. Wouldn’t want another Teddy incident. If you want to report to Dr. File Cabinet Instead of a Grandfather Clock in her Living Room Pearl that there is no need to flunk out and suspend an honor student for academic dirty pool, you gotta lay low behind the hydrangea plant and ensure academia is on the level. No more hot SAT booklets sold over the border for drugs and cash. Milford High School has an image to protect.
And once this scenario FINALLY lays to rest, there’ll be Gil at the ball park with his Milford jacket and cap on. Like he’s been sitting in the dugout for days, waiting for the cameras to roll. Then he’ll recite all the players he has coming back. Thank God this strip is alloted 3 panels. We’d be subjected to a listing of the players strengths and weakness, plus who can line the field when he isn’t pitching on a piece of paper he obtained from a Snickers wrapper that was in the trash can that Luhm failed to dump thoroughly. Mimi does the same thing but she usually buys steno pads to bore us to tears.
We still have to get through Chris and Alexa and based upon the streak that seems to be an omen, baseball or softball won’t start tomorrow. They still have to discuss why that streak always shows up whenever there’s controversy in academics. Never in athletics. When did you EVER see that streak on the gridiron or the basketball court or the badminton arena? 10-team Mudlark Wrestling All-Comers Classic? Nope, the streak won’t appear on the mat.
So we patiently wait for Chris or Alexa to pull the Windex out of his or her pocket while poring over the small stuff relating to academics. All in good time. I hope Gil’s cap doesn’t get wet. You know about this fickle weather in March. Hell on a guy sleeping in the dugout.
Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer
“Chris Pops The Question In High School Cafeteria!!!!!!!! Sketches Proposal With Bowie Knife On Picnic Table!!!!!!!!!!!”
sub headline
“O.J. : ‘This ceremony is happening over my dead body.”
“Really, I suggested killing the plot a month ago. Nobody told you?”
They dress like The Blob or Siamese Twins
Black as gold
Threaten to eat all and next of kin
They’re so bold
Mimi and Gil better take a spin
Silhouettes never grow old
That’s what I’m told
That’s
What
I’m
Told
Silhouettes
SILHOUETTES
Silhouettes
SILHOUETTES
Silhouettes
SILHOUETTES
Never grow old
Oh great. We COULD be stumbling into baseball or softball, depending which one drones on the best for, oh, 4 months, but NOOOOOOO we have to get sidetracked by The Lake House. Yeah, like Keanu Reeves, we’re about 2 years behind on things. Chris ought to be getting the grade he received on his Advanced Chem final from Harvard any day. And Alexa will get the MVP Award after leading UConn to the National Championship in Women’s Basketball. The trophy ought to be delivered to her house by Milford UPS right on schedule. I understand Coach Auriemma mailed her a letter begging her to stay another year. Good forwards are hard to come by. And to think, all this backward history can be traced (pardon the ignoble pun) to Mimi teaching her that grades are like points, nobody’s going to give you free cars or $100 handshakes if neither one is very high. And that’s assuming you’ll even get a scholarship.
“…this is the way it should be for lovers
They shouldn’t go it alone, oh no…”
Then with Chris delivering about the lamest confession in quite some time, going by Thorpiverse years, is that Paul McCartney’s “This Never Happened Before” playing over the cafeteria speakers? I’ll know for sure when I see two or more cafeteria ladies start to slow-dance with each other and get all kissy-faced. The Lake House had that effect. We presume this is NOT going to happen between Chris and Alexa. Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock are simply going to negotiate co-Valedictorian terms and leave The Lake House for Marty and Peaches. They put their deposit in 2 years ago, Chris and Alexa better wrap this up.
“Ohhhh, Melba (kiss, kiss) I’m so sorry for saying you stack the Hostess Twinkies on the rack (kiss, kiss) like dirty Holiday Inn towels…”
“And Rayette, I’m sorry (kiss, kiss) if I told you you cook the pork fritters (kiss, kiss) in a bowl of Pennzoil…”
THIS NEVER HAPPENED BEFFFFOOOOORRRREEEE
If yore waitin’ for yore high-powered Winschester with sights that could knock a bobby pin offa Gil’s hair that ya ordered 2 years ago frum Milford Guns and Ammo cuz they didn’t have it in stock and yore still waitin’ another 6 months for the plot and the bullets to come ’round so yuz kin do some huntin’ in tha woods behind Gil’s Pure Pork Sausage plant, ya might be a redneck.
“…and now I seeeee
This is the way it’s supposed to be…”
“Whhheeewwweeee, it’s getting cold. This aluminum bench is Hell to sleep on. Better get another jacket out of the trunk. I hope Mimi stuck that leftover On-Cor Boneless Grilled Steaks in the oven when I come home tomorrow morning. War is Hell.”
“…so come to me
Now we can be what we want to be…”
This Paul McCartney Romantic Moment is brought to you the new movie “Bill Nye The Science Guy: Teaching The Periodic Table in Milford High Freshman Chemistry.” What could have been a magical moment and had been the second coming of Keanu and Sandra and thereby salvaged a lackluster basketball season plunged in the salvage itself.
We are forced to whip out our calculators and watch romance morph into a trig table. Not that I, or anyone else for that matter, was really expecting Chris and Alexa to kissy-face like the cafeteria ladies, er, Keanu and Sandra. If it WERE to occur, Keanu and Sandra would have to detour to MIT.
“And if you use standard deviation, you’ll find my love for you isn’t wavering all that much. It was never in Ms. Rizk’s typewriter having no life…”
“Oh, Keanu, the fact that we are just points from each other, well, like Springsteen
“Two hearts are better than one
Two hearts, girl, get the job done”
“Atta way to use the FOIL method on our relationship, Sandra. We’ll be trinomials by the time baseball gets around. We’ll have little polynomials running around The Lake House”
“The stork ought to be delivering our polynomials anytime. Remember that time when we learning natural logs together two years ago?”
The scriptwriter for The Lake House that graduated from Rose-Hulman got fired. He’s now writing Trigonometry Today textbooks for the Valley Conference High Schools.
Lumped like coal and having no name
Anonymous
Walking in stride, the gait’s the same
Synchronous
Makes a tarantula look tame
In the woods, they’d be wild game
Seeking to maim
Seeking
To
Maim
Silhouettes
SILHOUETTES
Silhouettes
SILHOUETTES
Silhouettes
SILHOUETTES
They all look the same
ALL
LOOK
THE
SAME
And under the category of Pantheon of Mysterious Objects, that thing on the wall in the cafeteria in P3 can simply be nothing other than a heating unit. We gotta keep The Blob alive somehow. Keep that damn thing under a heat lamp if you want it to terrorize the city of Milford when the dismissal bell rings. DON’T leave it out in the dugout with Gil waiting for the baseball plot to start. The Blob could turn into The Flop by the time we get to Memorial Day.
Today’s Women’s History Month entry is Karen Ferguson-Dayes, the Women’s Soccer Coach for University of Louisville. She was a multiple All-All-American for University of Connecticut back in the early ’90’s as a sweeper and a midfielder. She eventually wound up in the current position just mentioned. Her no-nonsense style has enabled the Cardinals to participate in several NCAA post-season runs, and some deep runs at that. I remember when a reporter asked how she was going to prepare for a major opponent and she, knowing there was ANOTHER opponent to play before that, reminded the reporter “Excuse me, we play THIS team FIRST!!!!!!” Don’t overlook ANY opponent. Spoken like a true coach. Then, one night, playing a team that was employing dirty tactics, she still insisted that her team still stick with the Game Plan. How you play the game, win, lose, or draw. Starting out 1-18, her 182-162 record at Louisville speaks for itself. Join me in saluting a person who keeps competing and has won that way, on and off the field.
“We’ll be back to see if Marty Moon if finds his manhood under the bunk bed at Mudlark Lake Resort while Peaches heads to the fridge for a Yoplait after these messages. You’re watching WDIG-TV.”
At The Lake House
“…I met you and now I see
This is the way it should be…”
“Ohhhhhh, that is so romantic. The Beatles sure know how to get a girl going. They don’t make ’em like they used to.”
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
“Go away, Mrs. Shaw!!!!!!!!!!”
“But Honey, weren’t we going for a midnight swim? I’m kinda horny and I’d LOVE for you to do a cannonball on meeeeeee!!!!!!!”
“I called Keanu Reeves and he said there’s still sharks swimming around when he was rentin’ it. I ain’t gonna have my Significant Other bitten off by Jaws.”
“Darling, it’s a freshwater lake.”
“Bloopie, bloopie, it’s got all kind of algae in it. That causes my Significant Other to attract scum. I don’t want to go skinny-dipping with a green weenie. What would the neighbors think? Plus, it breeds that Coronavirus they’re talking about in the news. The boogeyman or the Algae from Hell won’t come in here. I got the bathroom dead-bolted.”
Heard somewhere from the septic tank outside
“…So jump on me
This is the way love’s supposed to be…”
“Honey, you can’t quarantine yourself just because pond scum breeds a little out of control. You can jump on me out in the middle of the lake. We’ll have life preservers and you can jump off the raft and take on me.”
“No way, Mrs. Shaw!!!!!!!! I microwaved my toothbrush and made sure I spit out thoroughly when I spit out my Colgate. That Coronavirus will go down the drain faster than stink beating the virus on shit.”
“How are you going to eat?”
“I bought a lot of Rice-a-Roni and stuck it under the bathroom sink. I can use the sink to boil water. I’ll have the 4-Cheese Rice-a-Roni tonight. No Coronavirus will get past these doors and land on my bill of fare.”
“If you can’t land on me because Coronavirus has landed on your Significant Other, let me know.”
“She had me there. And we were paying good money to rent out The Lake House and not doing any more than Captain Kangaroo would do with Mr. Moose. With treatment programs that work, don’t YOU want to hear Paul McCartney in the background while gettin’ it on in the lake? No wonder why they call it The Lake House. House of Fun to me. Come down to the Milford Men’s Clinic and jump on in, the water’s fine.”
Get after it, Gang. You are the world to me. Just be careful, The Blob was last seen in your neck of the woods.
“…this is the way it should be for lovers
They shouldn’t go it alone, oh no…”
Gil entering Dr. Pearl’s office
“I just received Schuring’s 4th-grade test scores and there was no indication of foul play, he’s good for Stanford and-er, what are you doing hugging your coat rack?”
“…It’s not so good when you’re on your own
(Kissy, Kissy, Kissy)
So come to me…”
“And Harrieta, I’m sorry if I said you mop with Pine-Sol and Tequila Sunrise.”
What is it about Alexa Watson that makes Milford High female faculty and staff want to touch her? First it was Mimi smacking her backside in practice; now it’s brown haired guidance counselor type lady making goo goo eyes while reaching in to caress the back of Alexa’s (much larger) hand. Is this her way of helping Alexa land her coveted valedictory prize? Not sure what’s odder: that Alexa appears to lack nail beds, or that Rubin finds all this touching of students appropriate in this day and age. (That’d be true even given these strips were submitted to the syndicate well in advance. Too soon for jokes on our current situation, and the toilet paper memes ceased being funny after about the 450th one.)
On to our usual underwhelming little Saturday cliffhanger. This is gonna end up like that old Warner Brothers cartoon The Dover Boys at Pimento University where the goofy running gag background character ends up with the girl, isn’t it? Phoebe will be your valedictorian without ever having to go upside anyone’s noggin.
First of all: Yes I had to go to work today. I’m essential, a mailman. I get permission to leave my house, which is somewhat of a relief given what I hear about people going stir-crazy in their homes and binge-watching every show ever produced. Hey, I get fresh air and (mild) exercise, and listen to talk shows on the radio while Im driving around outside. I get home, walk my dog, rest and watch a little tv, then make dinner and kick back and enjoy my evening. I really hope by mid-April we’ll have a handle on this thing, because so many lives have been affected. I miss seeing my friends, but I’m sure we’ll be very happy to see each other when this is over. Its all I can do. I wash my hands when I can and try to stay as clean as possible, which is just about impossible while I’m working, but it is what it is. And I never knew I’d be giving up church for Lent.
So these 2 clowns are still re-hashing what happened 3 years ago, and Divot Head is refusing an apology that Chris doesnt even have to make. I really think Chris wasnt aware of it at that moment. You walk by a lot of stuff in a day, and if you stopped and policed every one of them you’d never get anywhere with what You had to do. I think if it was that obvious Chris woulda done something, but Divot should just take his word for it, and MOVE ON. We can add Divot Head to the list of characters to be shot out of a cannon after theyre done entertaining us.
P3 has what looks like Alexa’s guidance counselor reviewing her academic record. I dont know why this is that necessary in the strip; why we care about her post-Milford life is dubious. And the dialogue is nonsensical. If Alexa already triple-checked this info, why does Brown Hair have to top that? Who checked first? Sounds like they both did, but Alexa’s balloon should be a question not a statement.
I also cant get over the way that chair is shaped. How BH is sitting in it is beyond me. If its a swivel chair it should be visible behind both sides of her. Comments on this are welcome.
Stay healthy my friends! We’re all in the same boat.
Well there you are and here I am. Get out your crayons and your pencils and start connecting these dots. Somewhere between Chris pouncing on that old test copy and shooting it into the library wastebasket, Kaz playing “smell my fingers” and Gil confronting Chris, Mr. Rollins went to Gil with Teddy Boy’s story and basically accused Chris of cheating.
Why didn’t Rollins confront Chris directly? Oh yeah, because Milford High is Gil’s world and everyone else just lives in it. It would also be tantamount to an admission by Rollins that he gives the same midterm every year. Lazy, for sure, but is Rollins just following the coaches’ lead in that regard?
Faux cliffhanger in P3. We’re led to believe Chris is lying, but he’ll likely tell Gil that Teddy gave him a copy of a test but told him it was a copy of last year’s test and why would he want last year’s test ’cause teachers aren’t so lazy as to give the same test every year, amirite?
Now get yourself some ’80s. Thirty-five years ago. Jeez.
I propose to consider the question, ‘Can comic strip writers think?’ This should begin with definitions of the meaning of the terms ‘comic strip writer’ and ‘think’. The definitions might be framed so as to reflect so far as possible the normal use of the words, but this attitude is dangerous. If the meaning of the words ‘comic strip writer’ and ‘think’ are to be found by examining how they are commonly used it is difficult to escape the conclusion that the meaning and the answer to the question, ‘Can comic strip writers think?’ is to be sought in a statistical survey such as a Gallup poll. But this is absurd.
One of the long-running tropes on the mothership of comics snark is that the strip Archie is written by the “Archie Joke Generating Laugh Unit 3000.” As for Gil Thorp: Artificial? Definitely. Intelligent? Well, uh, at least one of this season’s main characters has both her first and last names derived from well-known forms of artificial intelligence. (Ya think that’s where Rubin’s been leading us all along? Nah, gives him too much credit.)
Today I reckon we’re getting set up to find out if Chris Schuring is made of the same moral fiber as Alexa Watson. Teddy drove faster than the speed of light to get over to the library and reprise his Eddie Haskell schtick. Hoping against hope that we find out why mohawk boy has been holding a grudge toward Chris; otherwise this is just another red herring.
Instead of firing any more synapses to predict that outcome, I prefer to shift my focus to ponder the Milford Public Library and its parameters. How late does it stay open? Is it adequately heated? Did it get its start as a Carnegie Library? Is Aaron Aagard living there now? Talk amongst yourselves.
Before I even get into snarking on this tired trope I’m gonna rant about the way those molecules are drawn on the midterm, with bonds just sprouting at random off cyclic compounds. I majored in chemistry and once upon a time I was a lab rat so this lazy-assed artwork triggers me even more than yesterday’s Goshen Shabbat Goyim jersey. DAMMIT WHIGHAM BONDS DON’T JUST BRANCH OFF BETWEEN OTHER BONDS THESE ARE MOLECULES NOT MOLTEN ALUMINUM POURED IN A FIRE ANT NEST
Okay, now that that’s off my chest: The “steal the answers to the exam” trope has been made into a feature film at least twice and has been the plot of teen sitcoms too many times to count. We’re expected to believe our two overachieving student/athletes are going to stoop to buying a copy of an old exam from a kid who has done nothing but prank and tease one of them for Lord knows what reason that has yet to be revealed to us. Schuring at the least should be suspicious of DeMarco’s motives and, if she has any sense, so should Watson. Given that Chris has already shown himself not to consider Alexa an adversary, he should hip her to punk Teddy’s schtick in no time flat.
Of course nothing will be that straightforward. Honestly, in the past two weeks Rubin has not only let this plot run into the ditch but launched it off an embankment Toonces the Cat style.
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