I have one week left as a contractor. It’s gonna be sweet walking around in my underpants, wiping boogers on the sound-damping cubicle walls, and basically telling people what I really think of them. I am terminal, ergo I am invincible! That quote is from LA Law, by the way.
My son (Harrison) and daughter have been reading Calvin and Hobbes lately, and it got me to revisiting Bill Watterson‘s work. I would love to meet him. At his art’s zenith of popularity he walked away. He never authorized any licensing agreements to cheapen his legacy, and I admire that, the same way I used to admire the way The Beatles‘ work was never used in commercials or any of those “Great Hits of the 60’s” collections. His work has a definite arc, lasting 10 years, no more, no less, much like The Beatles’ and their 9-year recording career. It behooved them in the long run not to reunite. Just like it is to Watterson’s credit that he never cashed in on, say, a movie or an animated TV series. It would have been easy, and netted him millions.
Anyhow, I’m not going to bother you with my favorite CnH strips. Suffice it to say that I have never laughed at a comic so heartily as when I laugh with the genuine article. Just the right combination of whimsy, cynicism, slapstick and surrealism.
This guy used to do “Dial A Date” infomercials, but here’s a variation on a theme:
Remember these? Every freaking night. Especially for us lonesome losers watching TV late at night on weekends. I never called, but I came close a few times. Boy howdy!
Ok. Just the one: