Batiuk continues to deliver the gags; today’s is not quite as chuckleworthy as yesterday’s (and not everyone found yesterday’s to be chuckleworthy), but we’ll let it go. Very edifying to hear Funky refer to himself as an “old man” (BPH notwithstanding). By my reckoning he still hasn’t hit 50 (he was about 46 years old at beginning of Act III in 2007).
Aaaaaaand:
Who is the girl in the burnt orange shirt?
I’m always willing to give TB props when he makes a funny. Today’s riff is pretty good. Buying bottled water, at least in quantities less than a gallon, would indeed be an alien concept in 1977.
As far as the artistry in today’s strip, though…granted, the drawing style has changed over three decades. It wouldn’t do to depict teenage Funky the way he looked to us back then. But his profile in the first panel is bizarre; his nose is upturned rather than down; again, rather Owen-like. Additionally, Crazy’s lid appears to have been retconned from an Fidel Castro-style olive fatigue hat into a Confederate rebel cap.
You would think that fortyfiftysomething Funky, having already been through two abrupt time warps, would finally be at ease with being “unstuck in time“. Instead, plewds fly from his befuddled brow. Teenage Funky should be hurling droplets of sweat too: he’s sporting a flannel shirt on this Fourth of July.
As this comic evolved over three decades from a lighthearted gag-a-day feature into Heart of Dork-ness, the visual style morphed as well. I’ve come across a couple strips from FW Act I, circa 1976:
(Note that Crazy Harry’s eyes are visible; like Merry Pookster, I recalled they were always obscured by his cap)
Admit it, folks: the punchlines back then were groaners, too. But TB was at least trying to be whimsical.
“When I look in the mirror, I can’t believe what I see
Tell me, who’s that funky dude, staring back at me?”
–Weezer, The Good Life
It’s not only endings that have to be earned: readers of Funky Winkerbean are made to wait like obedient dogs for even a crumb of plot advancement. Anyway, today we get a payoff of sorts, as embittered, befuddled old Funky encounters…well, that’s too skinny to be Owen, right? Yep, it’s the classic, carefree High School Funky who captured our hearts over thirty years ago. And there’s Crazy Harry…clean-shaven (probably not even having to shave) and sporting his Fidel Castro hat instead of a tweed cap.
(I’m back! Many thanks to DavidO for filling in this past week! –TFH)
Funky finally puts two and two together and realizes that he must be “back…in the past! ” (emphasis Batiuk’s) And it’s not making sense. Neither does the fact that he’s toting a jacket in July. On the plus side: props to TB for preserving Sunday-to-Monday continuity (to the point of redundancy). Minus side: he’s stretching this out wayyy too long. Also: in these pre-Bluetooth headset days, the locals would surmise to be crazy anyone who wandered through the middle of the town square talking to himself.
Son of Stuck Funky 
