Category: Son of Stuck Funky

Snark and Gripes Forever

Will ya get a load of Dinkle’s friend’s wife? Talk about “hair in a color that only yarn comes in“! “Busy Harry” Dinkle has taken a break from writing books that no one reads, and has squeezed into his old uniform to conduct the annual July 4 concert. Sadly, the music ensemble from Bedside Manor has been decimated by Covid-19, leaving only Mort Winkerbean on trombone and some new guy on sousaphone who, judging from all the notes above him, is really wailing.  It is here in the park that this guy casually informs his wife of his decision not to retire.

Miscellany: Does anyone else see Act I Les and Lisa in the audience? Has the time pool opened up again?

The Days are Just Packed

In a universe where a book (graphic novel, whatever) by a teacher from Ohio about his wife’s breast cancer battle has ’em lining up in bookstores from coast to coast…what’s not to believe about an Ohio high school band director publishing a 17-volume autobiography? “Keeping busy these days” indeed: between his “Dinkle Diaries” and the epic Claude Barlow bio, where does Harry find the time to go down to the school and pester the living shit out of Becky?

On Wednesday I Photoshopped a gag panel of Dinkle talking about “reading a book in the morning” and holding up a copy of Lisa’s Story. But Batuik doesn’t need me to cross-promote his books…there’s another publishing franchise that just this year published its ninth volume: The Complete Funky Winkerbean. Each volume contains three years of strips, and we’re up to 1996-1998. At this rate, “only eight more” volumes would take us through 2022. Perhaps Dinkle’s friend—dammit, we still don’t know his name—isn’t the only one contemplating retirement? Don’t let us down, Tom.

Candy Crushed Dreams

If their mutual friend is now “selling band candy full time” then he’s not really retired, is he? But to Dinkle, this sounds like “living the dream.” Maybe John Thompson will be flown out to Belgium, or get a candy bar named after him, too. Someone who’s not living the dream is Adeela. When H-1B issues prevented her from leveraging her architecture degree, her fellow grad Wally installed her as Montoni’s day manager. This, of course, was merely a ploy to get the services of an architect at slightly above minimum wage. Only a matter of time before Adeels, like Khan before her, decides that life in  war-torn Iraquistan beats being a Westview lifer.

Book ’em, Dinkle

Just three days into my turn to “make the donuts” around here and I’m ready to throw up my hands…or just throw up. What the hell is today’s strip about, aside from padding this pointless arc out to six, maybe seven days? “Read a book in the morning”? Please tell me he’s not talking about taking a dump. I suppose a retired person has opportunity to read just about whenever they feel like it. What about “in the morning” makes Harry cock his head like that and raise his eyebrows? Where is joke?

Not the Retiring Type

Nice to see Adeela again, wearing Montoni’s Red Apron of Shame and carrying what’s either a server book or that architect diploma she got from Westview Community College. Dinkle’s unnamed friend continues his musing about retirement. “Long days, short years” does work pretty well as a wry comeback, and we’ll start taking bets now whether Tom Batiuk uses that very same aphorism when and if he ever chooses to retire.

The part of the tablecloth is being played today by Pete’s shirt.