Thanks to everyone who held down the fort since my last stint! So based on all available evidence thus far, Dinkle went over to Bedside Manor, told the Manorisms they had a gig, then loaded them into some sort of cargo van without telling anyone where they were going. That nursing home’s ombudsman must have quite a full schedule. Bedside Manor might want to consider some sort of key card entry system or something, as right now anyone can just wander in and lead the residents God-only-knows where.
And speaking of God, what’s Walt’s problem? Is he skittish about churches specifically or being indoors in general? I believe it’s the former, but the gag here is so weak it leaves itself open to multiple interpretations, all of them boring. Now if we were in Act II, we’d eventually learn that Walt was involved in some sort of ghastly and tragic church fire, collapse or explosion as a youth, which would explain his pensive reaction. But this is Act III, which means it’s probably just a time-killing aside that seemed a lot funnier jotted down on a pizzeria napkin than it ended up playing out in the strip. And that’s certainly nothing new.
Son of Stuck Funky 
Doesn’t a New-Orleans style jazz funeral involve having the band play as they march from the church to the cemetery? Or is Batiuk reinventing the tradition?
Yes it does. But Batty isn’t reinventing anything, no, he just writes things the way he imagines they should be. Write things realistically? That would spoil the dream and make things difficult.
So I guess he didn’t tell them WHAT the gig was?
Apparently Harry didn’t tell them WHAT the gig was, WHERE the gig was, and, probably, such little details as what to wear and what songs they would be playing (or are we to assume that “Maple Leaf Rag,” “South Rampart Street Parade,” and others are part of the Manorisms’ repertoire?). This, of course, is Trademark Battyuk: spend three days belaboring the point that the deceased’s family wants a N.O.S.J.F. and then gloss over any of the logical steps that a musical director would have to make for such a project.
As for Walt’s aversion to houses of worship: is it possible he’s a nosferatu? That would explain a lot.
Still, I do like the jazzy handlebar mustache on the guy on the far right. Reminds me of ’70s A’s pitcher Rollie Fingers in his heyday and…huh? Those are oxygen tubes? Oh. Never mind.
Those aren’t oxygen tubes, that’s Ambrose Burnside… rethinking his choice to fight on the same side as Ohio during the Civil War. Not that he expected to live this long anyways.
Nice burnsides…ooh, I get the reference!
Sure hope Bedside Manor doesn’t need their van for anything.
Walt prefers God when he’s outdoors? What is he? A Druid?
Will Walt burst into flames as soon as he enters the church?
Yet another nonsensical strip from Batty where we’re grasping for an understanding.
This strikes me as yet another in a long line of “witticisms” that I have a feeling Batiuk tried using in his actual life and didn’t get much of a response their either.
The wit and wisdom of Tom Batiuk could be printed in a pamphlet.
Well, if he is a druid, that means there’s a tiny sliver of chance that Dinkle ends up burned inside a wicker man, so I’m hoping it’s that.
Works for me.
My little brother is agnostic. As a grownup, he’d attend church twice a year on Easter and Christmas just to make our mother happy.
Of course, my older brother and I would ridicule him by calling him a “twice a year Christian” and joking that he’d burst into flames the moment he walked into the sanctuary.
I don’t know who the hell Walt is. Maybe I need an advanced degree in Batiukology and an encyclopedic knowledge of FW to understand this strip. Why does he care whether God is inside or outside? I’m sure there is a rich history behind this character’s Indoors God Phobia. And if I was aware of that, his punchline would become…funny? I guess I must be missing some special gene that lets me grok Batdick’s humor lately.
The truth is, no one knows who Walt is. Not even Batiuk. Oh, he’s an old black guy who lives in Bedside Manor and plays the clarinet. Other than that, he’s just a thing that exists.
I think the only characteristic he had was that he knew the guy at Sun Records. To paraphrase, “It’s not what you are, it’s who you know.”
My guess is that today’s strip makes sense, if you remember the 2018 strip it’s referencing.
This is why I hate The Office. And The Office has talented people in it.
I’m guessing the gag here is that Walt feels guilty or judged in church or something like that. Which is silly, because he should feel guilty and judged regardless of where he is for agreeing to play in Dinkle’s band.
This “gag” just seems like someone trying to sound too cool/intellectual to go to church. Which, Homer Simpson did that kind of thing decades ago.
1. No idiots, the “gig” isn’t inside the church… It’s a New Orleans Jazz Funeral which means I hope you have your walking shoes on for the parade march through the neighborhood to the burial site… Oh, and for the record if y’all ain’t marching then stop fucking calling it a “Traditional New Orleans Jazz Funeral”… It’s just a regular funeral service with a couple of jazz-ish songs requested.
2. I’m surprised that not one person from the decedent’s family has tried to coordinate with the Big Dink, if nothing else just to tell him where the parade route is going? And since the surviving family are the only ones who know the first fucking thing about New Orleans culture, shouldn’t they want to work with the music director to make sure everything is perfect?
3. Why oh why couldn’t a Taiwanese person have died so St. Spires could have this kind of traditional funeral??
https://metro.co.uk/2017/10/02/dying-around-the-world-everything-you-need-to-know-about-taiwans-funeral-strippers-6962458
Re #3: OH DEAR GOD NO. I do not want to see any Westview residents in a state of undress. Not even the supposedly attractive ones.
You guys, I don’t think he knows what a nasal cannula is or what its purpose is. I think he just saw some old guy on oxygen and thought “that’s what some old people look like, I’ll draw one like that for realism” and didn’t understand what he was showing. He doesn’t understand how that might handicap a person and the effect it has on a person’s life such that they might have some issues walking independently, being part of a performance, or playing an instrument.
To him it’s just like gray hair, I guess. It’s something that some old people have to signify their oldness.
Then again, that guy’s oxygenation issues affect him about as much as Mort’s Alzheimer’s affects him, I suppose. At least Batiuk’s consistent in not having any idea of what he’s portraying.
“Leave the drum, take the cannula.”
@ JJ O’Malley, that may be the funniest comment I’ve read on here, and that’s saying something. Maybe because I watched the Godfather again recently, but damn, well done.
Sure and you’re too kind, me child.
I’m surprised they aren’t depicted in walkers or wheelchairs with piss bags and IVs attached…
You’ve spoiled the hilarious conclusion.
My mother was on oxygen 24/7 for the last few years of her life. Mom had two different sizes of oxygen tanks. One was a smaller tank that she could carry around in a bag the size of a large purse. The other was much bigger and needed to be lugged around in an upright cart. To her, that was a stigma. She didn’t want to be seen in the eldercare facility with the nasal cannula up her nose. She said the cannula interfered with her dining and quite often caused her to spill.
Mom also had one of those electronic oxygen converters, the size of a dehumidifier. The tubes from the machine to her nasal cannula were about 24 feet long. She could venture pretty much anywhere in the apartment, but she was constantly getting the tubes wrapped around her ankle or her walker.
I can easily see Carl having difficulty with the tube constantly interfering with his playing. I have difficulty imagining Carl marching and playing the trumpet at the same time.
With Batiuk, it’s always one extreme or the other. After spending an entire week beating the phrase New “Orleans Style Jazz Funeral” into the ground, now he makes a joke that requires us to intimately know some fifth-tier character we haven’t seen in three years. When he’s not being way too obvious and repetitive, he’s being way too obscure.
In the only possibly satisfying resolution to this, when they walked into the church, Dinkle and the gang were confronted by a chimpanzee with a revolver. The chimp said, flatly, “Dinkle, you’ve always driven me…. bananas!” And, then everyone has a good smirk while Dinkle crumples to the floor.
Did he even tell them the “gig” is a funeral, or are they going to be surprised by that too? HILARITY ENSUES.
“Wait, did I say ‘God’? I meant ‘gods’. I’m a cultist of the pagan god Ba’atiuk, Lord of the Falling Leaves. Blessed be his colors, blessed be his wind!”