Thorps In Spandex: Trick Or Treat?

I don’t have to talk about school shooting drills in the guise of community theater productions of Straw Dogs featuring senior circuit pro wrestling moves? That is a definite treat for me, and not just fun sized!.

The Thorps are trick or treating with Jami. Is Jami too old for tricker treating, stage whispers a very mature man in a full on Superman costume. I think if two parents get into full superhero outfits complete with full bodysuits, boots and capes, there’s an indication that they are into Halloween, or at least one of them is and the other one goes along because he knows what’s good for him. Gil’s going along with this because there’s a promise of some superhero fetish play in his future.

I’m not sure what Jami’s costume is. It’s a white robe with a boxy looking ghost mask. Is that some studio intellectual property that I don’t know or just a twist on the old, lazy I’m going to wear a sheet and be a ghost? His head is kinda kitty shaped. Is that a thing?

What is that lady giving out to trick or treaters, handfuls of jelly beans?

A Dear Gil Letter

Growing up, there was a fair amount of country music in the teenchy household, much of it of the honky-tonk variety. Ernest Tubb, Patsy Cline, Faron Young, Johnny Cash, No-Show Jones, Fats Domino, to name a few – all staples. Lots o’ tearjerkers about mamas, babies, and trains, kinda like Steve Goodman and David Allan Coe’s perfect country and western song. One that particularly struck a chord was Jean Shepard’s first hit with Ferlin Husky, “A Dear John Letter,” written during the Korean War. Take a moment to soak this one in before reading on.

Mimi’s not leaving Gil for his brother (does he even have a brother?) and maybe not for good, but she is leaving for a while. Taking the kids back to see Grandma Clover, where they’ve been staying for the last thirteen-and-a-half years. Hey, they had to be somewhere, amirite?

I’m having a hard time getting my head around the idea that Mimi and the kids aren’t as important to Gil as his wall full of participation awards. The kids, yeah, I get that, but I’m not getting how they’re more important to Mimi than to Gil. Not getting how coaching is more important to Gil than to Mimi either, for that matter. Doesn’t she also coach three sports at Milford? Do her teams generally suck more than his such that she spends less time prepping for the playdowns? Is it that she doesn’t have a female equivalent of Kaz to hang out with in the showers weight room and get sweaty with?

If you’re gonna retcon, you should at least retcon with consistent character traits. We’re not quite a month into the new regime so that may still be in the works. Meanwhile we’ve got a cliffhanger in the form of who might be calling Gil on his Nintendo Switch. Bethany the bartender? Ms. Holmes the pilot? Sweaty Kaz? Sodden Marty Moon? Talk amongst yourselves.

Big Floppy Hats Are SO 2016

Remember when we thought we were going to get way more Scooter Borden than we could handle and possibly want to stab ourselves in the eyeholes with rusty farm implements? Well maybe I still feel that way, especially if Scooter’s going to use terminology like compadre, fired up and on the bump. But Scooter’s stupid jibba jabba has so far been nothing compared to the sheer, unrelenting monotony of Gregg Hamm’s old man, Mr. Incognito.

It looks like Ruth Hamm is getting tired of her husband’s crap, too. She’s clearly snarking at him about the measures he’s taking to avoid being identified in public. That would suggest that she doesn’t think it’s a matter of life and death if someone spots him watching his half blind kid on the bump. Maybe after another couple weeks of big, flappy hat talk, we’ll find out what the big mystery is, but I’m bored with it. I’d rather deliberate on the mystery of what the heck the thing is on the Hamm’s counter. Is he packing a lunch in a customized Bento box? Maybe he is going to put on a mask that he keeps in an old Steak & Shake carryout box.

Let’s watch some baseball, shall we. One would presume that we’re looking at a Valley Tech player attempting to lay down a bunt, but the colorists never know which end is up, so we can’t be sure. If it is a Valley Tech player at the plate, will blind Gregg kick the ball all over the infield or will one of the other infielders commit an error because he’s too distracted by Gregg’s dad in the stands sporting a big, floppy hat?

All I can think about are big, floppy hats.

From a Slick Stop to a Meal Stop

Time for a break from the Milford Witness Protection Program for some actual action.

Central tries to mount a late rally against the Mudlarks by putting on Milford’s uniforms and crowding the plate. This ruse fails as Gonzo Aceves gets the batter in disguise to ground into a game-ending double play. Surprising that Gil and Kaz left Gonzo in to pitch a complete game; maybe they were also too busy watching Mama Hamm take a bullet for Papa Hamm to pay attention to the action on the field.

Menawhile Marty’s in his crate, calling the game using the CB radio he pulled from under the dash of his car and taking notes using a carpenter’s pencil. Guess Marty got it from Heather that everyone’s calling Aceves “Gonzo” now. Though he and his butter knife are long gone The Mayor has left his mark, at least for the rest of this season.

Now it’s off for postgame junk food, either at Ricozzi’s or The Bucket. Will the Hammmmer walk into a pane of glass as he joins the rest of the team? Will Papa Hamm be stuffed in the trunk of the Hammmobile when Mama Hamm comes to pick Gregg up? Will Scooter be too busy bragging about the twin killing he turned to bore everyone to tears with baseball trivia? So much to anticipate for the rest of the week!

Up With (Ridiculous) People

Oh no! Hollis Talley is up with a conundrum. Should she rat out her friends who threw a party where six girls shared a Zima or keep mum and run the risk that the USAF Academy secret police will uncover her malfeasance? Oh yeah, what a conundrum.

Speaking of conundrums, what are those polka dotted things behind Hollis? Furniture? Misshapen hat boxes?

Meanwhile, Pranit Smith is up with the Clippers. Oh no! He was up but now he’s down. This sports wagering is not for the faint of heart, Pranit. Especially when you’re also covering Jimmy’s and who knows who else’s action. Uh oh, Pranit’s parents are concerned. Just tell ’em you lost at Donkey Kong and ask for a Pepsi. Now get back on the horse and you can bet your way out of this mess. That’s the ticket.

Give Him a Loose Enough Tie to Hang Himself

Hey y’all, look! It’s the return of Herk the Mauler! No? Okay, it’s at least the return of Ed Asner, right? Huh? Oh, alright. It’s just another Milford Library Board member who could pass for Ed Asner. But hey, he’s got pie!

And what’s this? Marty Moon is there to cover the Library Board action? Say it ain’t so! Of course it ain’t so. The Library Board has its own goatee wearer and, besides, Marty’s presence would violate a sacred tenet of Gil Thorp: that there can be only one bad guy with facial hair per strip. (Or is that Mark Trail I’m thinking of?) Since Abel Brito Charlie Delta Echo has that spot covered, this can’t be Marty.

Looks like we’re gonna get that Mr. Smith Goes to Washington scenario I predicted on Saturday. Like most Milfordians, the Library Board is self-important, craves attention, and believes any publicity is good publicity. What better way to get even more fannies in the stacks then to put the two guys who’ve been sniping each other in print on public display? Mama Brito’s troubled head bobble is indication enough that Abel’s humiliation will be the family’s, as it plays out in slower motion than Boo Radley’s car crash.

Now all we have to anticipate is how Mimi ex machina will grease the skids for Corina to get into State U on a softball scholly.

How Does Their Garden Grow?

It’s time to get back to recapping actual action in banal settings…like the Thorps’ garden! Get out your gloves and floppy hats and let’s do some weeding, pruning and mulching. Mimi looks like she’s got a proper digging tool, but Gil seems to be ready for some ceremonial Vulcan combat with that thing. (Maybe he’s gonna flip a small pizza. Do they have one of those trendy, brick pizza ovens?)

So to recap, Zane and Katy have had lousy performances and maybe there’s a common reason or maybe they’re just mediocre. They can just conclude that their teams are so-so and they wouldn’t want it any other way so they can ease into summer without any annoying playdowns. (There may not be playdowns in the spring seasons. Who cares? They don’t.) Send Corina to Farmers University of Central Kentucky and start mixing the lemonade.

Enjoy what’s left of your Memorial Day everybody.

Saying the Quiet Part Loud

Odds are you heard this phrase a lot in the news over the past year. It has its origins in an episode of The Simpsons I referenced once a couple of years ago.

Now in a heel turn the lies of which would have made Andre the Giant proud, Tessi says the quiet part loud.

To be honest I think Tessi’s remained quiet on the really quiet part. Using a guy’s car as an excuse to go out or not out with him might’ve been a thing back in 1958 when this strip started and it might still have been a thing for quite a few years after; now, not so much. It probably started becoming less of a thing after the OPEC embargo in 1973, but I could be wrong. In today’s world where fewer teens are getting drivers’ licenses, it’s become even less of a thing. Maybe that’s why girls don’t compete with Goats for Doug Guthrie.

I doubt it’s fear of being seen in Vic’s GMC (Grandpa Motors Corporation?) van – or of what could happen to her inside it – that keeps Tessi from accepting his invitation. But even Tessi can’t state the obvious and she can’t be entirely wrong in P2, either. Those dueling exploding eyes with a head bobble are part “Oh no she din’t!” and part “She says what we’re all thinking!” If any of those Lady Mudlarks’ eyes should not be exploding, it’s Corina’s. It’s impossible that a tank town like Milford didn’t get the news about her little ménage à trois with the dueling QBs last fall.

Tune in on Monday when we see how high off the floor and onto a horse Corina gets at that postgame pizza party. Let’s hope she takes that flyswatter off the pizza first. (What? You can’t tell me that’s a spatula!)