Fired Up

I’m going to confess that I have put even less than my usual amount of effort into figuring out what this summer golf plot is all about.

So far I get that we’ve got two golf courses, each with a set of teens with golf clubs strapped onto their bodies. I’m not going to try to deepen my understanding. Time is short. This is nowhere, man!

Also, I’ve had an interesting week in the real world and last Monday seems like it was ages ago. I could swear that we had a Gil and Mimi moment to set the stage, but it looks like we’re having another one in the Thorps’ garden. Given the short period of time available to develop a summer plot, the fact that we’re pausing to refresh one week in is a very bad sign.

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None Of This Feels Real

So we kick off what’s left of summer with the now traditional serving of the lemonade. (We will take Gil at his word that it’s lemonade and not something stronger. Or will we?)

Do you think Gil took the time to squeeze a bunch of lemons or did he just mix up a batch of Country Time? If Gil Thorp, the comic strip in its modern incarnation, was lemonade, it would be made from an expired pouch of powdered mix found in a dumpster behind the grocery store that sells all the dented can goods.

What’s the big deal with lemonade anyway? It’s only good when it’s loaded with sugar. Maybe lemonade is an apt metaphor for Gil Thorp. It’s fondly remembered as a refreshing treat, but as a practical matter, it’s barely worth the effort.

Maybe you out there in TWIMland have a different opinion of lemonade. Please share it with us. What else are we going to talk about?

We can talk about these two characters on bicycles, in the rain, with full golf bags strapped to them?? Can you really do that? Even without the rain, I believe that would be unwise. Some sort of pull behind, mini trailer is in order. But kids will be kids*. Let’s just hope we don’t have a accident as they weave down the road spilling golf clubs everywhere.

Are you excited that we’re talking about golf? No? Lemonade is still on the table!

*Actually, to really haul something impractically and dangerously, adults are required. This weekend, I saw an SUV on the interstate with a king mattress set strapped to the roof. I’m talking a three layer job, the two separate box springs and the mattress. The mattress was on top, of course.

First Responder Timeline (in part)

6:04 am… Three hours from prison, in his comfortable home in Milford, Barry Bader cues up “Pumped Up Kicks” on his smartphone as he loads his backpack with his weapons of choice.  Using a metallic-silver Sharpie, he writes “Dafne,” “Ms. Rizk,” “Coach Kaz,” “Coach Thorp,” “Mrs. Coach Thorp,” and “that greasy-haired kid obsessed with launch angles” on six of the loaded magazines he proceeds to place in the backpack.

Why Is Paloma Standing Behind Gil’s Desk?

I mean, other than to gratuitously fit her in the frame. Really, Panel Three concisely symbolizes the whole approach of this arc. I’m not even entirely sure what the heck Jorge is talking about when he says Gil ‘might’ be right.

Fortunately, Gil’s not really listening as he strains his neck to make sure Paloma doesn’t clock him with her standard Milford High issue stack of text books.

Minus points: Sartorially, things seem out of whack. We have Mimi in a skirt (!) and long scarf, Gil going from wearing a jacket to short sleeves, and I don’t even want to begin to figure out all the ways Paloma is not dressed like a teenager.

 

Ohhhhh, Marty, you bankrupted this plot. But you have a free spin token, so spin again!!!!!

WHEEL!!!!!!!!!!! OF!!!!!!!!!!!!! FORTUNE!!!!!

That’s right, gang, Pat Sajak and Vanna White have invaded Milford High School Gymnasium to promote the famous game show. And what better way for WOF to nurture a grass-roots feel than to invite Milford’s own to be contestants? Once a Mudlark, always a Mudlark, even if they have to spin a gigantic wheel to win thousands of dollars/vacations to The Bahamas/consolation prizes to prove it. The screening process turned up 3 worthy contestants, Marty Moon, Mimi Thorp and Vince Packard, and this should be interesting, given all that Marty has endured. C’mon, gang, Marty can’t be crying in his beer at the Milford Lounge forever and does anybody honestly picture him next to Humphrey Bogart at the Boulevard of Broken Dreams? Didn’t think so. I wouldn’t even paint him in that portrait with those dogs playing poker that gets sold on a roadside stand somewhere. Marty puffing away on a Muriel cigar next to some ruffian boxer who’s also smokin’ a stogie? Marty better have a winning hand.

Especially when we’re still attempting to dig ourselves out of this plot via the-parking-lot-aka-bargaining-table method. Hey, I guess NAFTA, SALT II, and the Yalta Conference (“Sure, Josef, you can have Czechoslovakia if we can take Austria. Oh, damn, I lost the keys to my Ford Explorer. No problem, I have a spare in my briefcase.”) were discussed in the asphalt jungles of your nearest soon-to-make-history-in-encyclopedias-everywhere city, so why not Puerto Rico and/or the fate of Marty’s radio career? And why not the asphalt jungle of Milford?

Before Gil and The Dove, with HOR-hay as an Official Witness, sign ANY agreement (Marty Moon’s broadcasting career realigned in exchange for world peace, I’d say that’s fair), let’s NOT KID OURSELVES as Gil and Mimi are doing in P3. As they walk down the streets of perhaps the Business District of Milford, after intense negotiations in the asphalt jungle (we’re talking Milford, I understand, but work with me), they apparently need to be reminded of the raison d’etre of WDIG. The station isn’t throwing a lifeline to a fellow shark because WDIG is compassionate to a JAWS who forgot how to swim. Peace, Love, and Happiness is for the ’60’s, concepts that don’t apply to a muckraking operation that is ‘DIG. Unless Peace, etc. is subordinate TO the profit ledger. Then Flowers in your Hair is OK as long as the utilities in the building are paid. PEACE and PROFITS walking hand-in-hand, Gil? Did you ever see JAWS and Lassie walk down the aisle of a chapel to exchange wedding vows (…’til death do you part?”     “I do.”)?

Therefore, if anybody’s been dying to know what Marty’s been up to when he’s not feeling sorry for himself, I mean, okay, so nobody’s losing sleep over this one but, hell, I’M DYING TO KNOW, how’s that? You think I like Gil in a parking lot doing a sting operation with The Dove and Jorge CONCERNING MARTY??? Surely Marty kept himself busy. Actually, believe it or not, he did.

“So, Marty, tell us a little about yourself.”

“I’m a DJ and sports announcer for a radio station. I do play-by-play for high school sports.”

“Wow. That’s interesting. There’s an ugly rumor you got suspended?”

“Totally false. I have been on the job for 60 years and only called in once. My jeep broke down out in the woods and my CB player was on the frizz and I forgot my CB handle. A farmer in a nearby soybean field gave me a lift on his combine and I eventually made it back to Milford.”

“Good deal!!!!!! BTW, what is your CB handle?”

“It’s an original. Just call me ‘Dead Flowers'”

(Awkward pause)

“Well, Vanna, when we take a tour of the town after the show, don’t forget to put roses on HIS grave. Oh, you’re still alive(nervous laughter from the audience, Vanna impatient to turn the letters. It’s a Phrase). Marty, why don’t you get us started and spin the wheel?”

TH– —T R—– —K-

“200 dollars.”

“Is there a ‘Z’?”

“I’m sorry, Mimi, there’s no ‘Z’. Vince, it’s your turn.”

Sppppiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn

“Wow, big money, 800 dollars.”

“Is there a ‘C’?”

“YES!!!!!! There IS a ‘C’. If Vanna will get her ass over there, okay, that’s better. We only have a 1/2 hour in this gym.”

TH– —T R—– –CK-

“I’d like to solve the puzzle.”

“Sure.”

“THEY SHOT RIBALD COCKS.”

“Nope, I’m sorry, that is incorrect. Marty, back to you.”

If ya lost that vacation to Acapulco, complete with dancing senoritas that sing like Speedy Gonzales and hotels that cost the GNP of Guatemala with beaches so pristine that you CAN drink the water, because ya lost on “Wheel of Fortune” because ya forgot there’s a ‘C’ in MEXICAN REDNECK, ya might be a redneck.

Gang, I’m a Classic Rock junkie but I have a special addiction for my Rolling Stones. From the album “Sticky Fingers”(the one that shows Coach T.’s crotch shot once you unzip it) comes a song that sums up the relationship between Marty and Ernie. As Ralph Kramden once said to Norton, awaaaaaayyyyyy we go

While you’re sitting there

In your silk-upholstered chair

Broadcasting live for WDIG

I hope you won’t see me

In my ragged company

The parrot done left me in abject poverty

Take me down, Little Ernie

Take me down

I know you think you’re the king of

the high school grounds

And you can send me dead flowers

When I am fired

Send me dead flowers on the radio waves Send me dead flowers

When I retire

And I’ll never forget to put roses on

your graaaaavvveee.

Well, while you’re sitting back

In your rose-pink Cadillac

Calling the game on Milford Playdown

dayyyyyyyssssss

I’ll be at the Milford Lounge

With a needle that I scrounged

And a Natural Lite to take my pain

awaaaaayyyyyyyy

Take me down, Little Ernie

Take me down

I know you think you’re the king when

I’m not around

And you can send me dead flowers when I’m buried

Send me dead flowers on the radio waves

Send me dead flowers when I’m married

And I’ll never forget to put this plot into the grraaaaaaaaaavvvvvvve.

TH– —T R—-Y –CK-

Sppppiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnn

“500 dollars”

“I’d like to buy a vowel.”

“Go right ahead.”

“Is there an ‘E’?”

“YESSS!!!!!! There is one ‘E’. Vanna is there to get it turned around.”

TH– —T RE—Y –CK-

“I’d like to solve the puzzle.”

“I’m with you. Solve it.”

“THE BLOB REALLY ROCKS.”

“Uh, no, Mimi, you might wanna check the board again on that one. Vince, over to you.”

“Hi, this is Coach Steve Boone, speaking on behalf of Milford Gentleman’s Club. Practice can get real intense and the plot, as you can see, can be pointless. Sometimes I have to work overtime, with basketball overlapping into Opening Day of my beloved Cubs. That’s why I love the lap dances of Milford’s finest ladies. They help me unwind and forget about the game films Coach is incessantly showing. I’m a Cameo Coach, not Dick Vitale. But rather than lose my job and say “Freeze it, Gil!!!!!”, I turn to the hottest acts in Mudlarkland with ladies like Annie Aardvark cha-chaing on stage, twirling her son’s coxcomb to “Don’t Leave Me This Way” or Penelope Pearl proving age is just a state of mind, gettin’ it on to “What Have You Done For Me Lately?” How she boogies and keeps her beehive is a club secret. While you’re scratchin’ your noggin over that one, check out the club’s 1/2 price daiquiris from 7-9 PM every night. I’m thirsty already. And you’ll also be hungry for love and get it satisfied at the place that’s literally hoppin’ for your business. Come check out the ladies at the Milford Gentleman’s Club and as a bonus catch Hellfire Heather lap dance the owner while twirling a football. Just call her the Meadowlark Lemon of the Gentleman’s Club. She never fumbles!!!!!! Us Cameo Coaches taught her well. And if you poop out from the ladies like Hellfire, and who doesn’t occasionally, there’s wide-screen TV’s all around the club. It’s nice to know that when Gil can act out of character and be a donkey about the Veer offense or a generic play like the double out right, split formation, halfback wishbone option left, single screen off the right tackle, that I can flush that down the toilet and go watch my beloved Cubs. They have toilet paper too, 2-ply jumbo rolls at that, in case you’re wondering. But don’t take my word for it, come on down to the one place exclusively for men where playmates are not restricted to the basketball court and their uniforms really give you a reason to cheer on the team.”

TH-S —T RE—Y S-CKS

Spppppppiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnn

“Hey, ALL RIGHT!!!!!!!! You landed on ‘Win a Trip to Mudlark Lake Resort'”.

“Is there an ‘L’?”

“YESSS!!!!!!!!! THERE ARE THREE OF THEM!!!!!!!!! If Vanna will get there in time. That’s what happens when they only pay minimum wage. And LUCKY YOU!!!!!! I hope you have a special someone in mind.”

TH-S -L-T RE-LLY S-CKS

“Peaches, if you’re watching this, I’m willing to kiss and make up.”

“And Peaches, whoever you are, if you can rescue Marty from the Milford Lounge and land him to safety at this resort, you deserve this trip. Just don’t take the Titanic to get there(audience laughter, Marty shooting daggers at Pat). All right, Marty, what do you wanna do?”

“I’d like to solve the puzzle.”

“Why not?”

“THIS BLOT REALLY SOCKS!!!!!!!!!”

“Noooooooo, I’m sorry, Marty. Mimi, it’s your turn, spin the wheel.”

Spiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnnn

“Oooooohhhhhh, just passed that ‘Bankrupt’ sign. Lay it on me, Mimi.”

“Is there a ‘P’?”

“YESSSS!!!!!!! One ‘P’.”

TH-S PL-T RE-LLY S-CKS

“I’d like to solve the puzzle.”

“GO AHEAD!!!!!”

“THIS PLOT REALLY SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!”

“YESSSS!!!!!!! WE HAVE A WINNER!!!!!!!! Johnny, tell Mimi all the fabulous prizes in store for our contestant!!!!!!!!!”

“A BRAND NEW BRUNSWICK BAYLINER MOTORBOAT!!!!!! Yes, dump that Radio Flyer of a craft that your husband’s been sandpapering for the last 25 years when he’s not teaching his daughter how to putt…”

Gang, fire away. Marty’s consolation prize is 2 free passes to the Milford Gentleman’s Club. Marty wanted me to tag along. Being a Christian, I had my reservations. But Jesus drank wine with the sinners plus I’ve never seen Hellfire Heather twirl a football to “Sweet Georgia Brown” while lap dancing. The talents we never knew we had.

Marty Blowed Up Real Good!

Ooh, Mimi, twist that knife girl!

I’m enjoying Gil’s mental gymnastics as he justifies the broad hints he threw at Karina. (I’m also wondering how that laundry basket got more cubical overnight.)

I’m on the road most of today. Have fun deciphering how far Gil would let things go up to swearing (hint: interrupting Marty’s broadcasts are apparently a go).

It Could Happen To You

P1: Thanks for the exposition, Kaz. How much gel does Kaz have to use to get all of his sideburn hairs in parallel do y’all reckon?

P2: Is that even Paloma in the foreground hug with, uh, Karina I guess? Because the brunette in mid-panel looks closer to Paloma. Also, too, wasn’t this whole thing pretty much a Karina/Duncan joint with Jarrell ‘Spielberg’ Atkins directing?

P3: Jeeze, Mimi with a devastating toting the laundry walk by zinger. Meanwhile, Gil looks incredibly constipated as he just cannot deal with it that people keep bringing up this Marty Moon bullshit to him. It’s bad enough he has to show up at the games but he sure as hell didn’t sign up for talking about them for days afterwards.

Minus point: Karina has a terribly advanced case of trigger finger there in P2. Perhaps the Spring arc could help inform us about this potentially crippling condition and the plight of so afflicted high school athletes.

Goin’ to the Rack With Controlled Assertiveness. Now That’s Milford Basketball.

ATTAWAY TO BACK YOUR OPPONENT DOWN, THEN HELP HER TO HER FEET AFTER YOU’VE KNOCKED HER INTO THE MATS ON THE WALL!!!!!!! AND THAT WAS THE CHRISTIAN THING TO DO TO HAND HER BACK HER MOUTH GUARD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And Mimi, as billytheskink has insinuated, comes out of retirement to return the Mudlarks to the Glory Days!!! We can only hope that the Lady Mudlarks will build on this victory and personally bettin’ they can when Paloma is not engineering Sit-Down-Protest-of-the-Week. And, baby baby, I like her moves to the bucket. She’s got some Cheryl Miller in her. Never mind that a couple of Goshenites appear to have left their seeing-eye dogs in the locker room but we gotta start somewhere. So one Goshenite is completely out of position because her defensive stance is 180 degrees (give or take a few degrees) away from the person she was intending to guard (Paloma, for those of you keeping score). That’s Goshen’s problem. Since when do we educate our opponent on the proper technique especially if we’re just reading the strip and enjoy, along with our fellow Milfordites, the Christians getting fed to the lions, not to mention getting dunked on? Berrill, for eons, promoted Bacchanalian feasts of opponents being fodder for the bloodthirsty Mudlarks. Besides, Paloma got game.

Gee, if we can only stash this 2-out-of-3 basketball concept in a bottle and save it for later when Marty Moon gets nasty as I promise you he will because a few naive teenagers didn’t understand not to wake up a dormant snake. Don’t let him slither out of his snake hole at WDIG studios. And with Mr. Anonymous Calculus Dude who Moonlights as an Ad Salesman for the Station aiding and abetting in the crime, this could get ugly. You know it’s a bad omen when the Anonymous People are seen more than once.

“Hey, Marty, you forgot to flush the toilet again.”

“Sorry, Anonymous Calculus Dude. Hey, since you’re still in the strip, can I count on you for some mudslinging when I broadcast the Milford Girls Basketball game with New Thayer this Friday?”

“Sure. My wedding with Mrs. Anonymous Calculus Dudette is this Sunday and the rehearsal is on Saturday and I haven’t been written out of the script yet, so Fridays are free.”

“Super!!!!!!!! Here’s that ‘2000 More Insults’ I ordered from the Milford Book-of-the-Month Club. Pore it over and I want at least a hefty Manila folder of material a half hour before the tip.”

“Will do. BTW, I bought some Lysol and placed it on the commode lid.”

Well, anyway, we got a fist bump from Mimi. Maybe that’ll slow The Snake to a crawl. Fist bumps have a way of turning the tide in Thorpiverse. And the plot might get interesting. Wouldn’t that be something.

If ya buy a jalopy straight outta the Estado de Chihuahua and ya fix it up with dual exhausts, fix all the points and plugs, stick a 409 in it, purchase some expensive mags, instead of plain ol’ Bridgestones, with money you don’t have, then, as a coup-de-grace, proudly display yore Confederate flag decal on the front bumper at the Milford Car Show, ya might be a redneck.

If ya use the same tractor to haul illegals under the tarp of a trailer across the border as the one competin’ in the Milford Major-Modified Tractor Pull later that night, ya might be a redneck.

Today’s Black History Month entry is a long personal favorite of mine, Roberta Flack. She is the first, and still the only, solo artist to win Grammy Record of the Year 2 years in a row, “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face” and “Killing Me Softly With His Song”. She has 3 #1 hits, the 2 just mentioned plus “Feel Like Makin’ Love”. She has gone on to do several collaborations with Donny Hathaway including “Where is the Love”. Robert Christgau, a well-respected critic, was not terribly kind in his remarks on her, basically saying she was essentially a Light Favorites fixture. I vehemently disagree as I have found her music to exhibit the complexity, depth, and soul needed to create beautiful music and still have a listening audience. Even those not a fan of her music will admit she has a shrewd ear for melody that keeps us coming back for more. Please spread the word about a very beautiful lady and another one VERY dear to my heart.

Gang, I’m bumping your fist because you’re the tops. Let’s see if we can get the Milford contingent to focus on BASKETBALL for once.