Tag: Ed Crankshaft

Happy 107th Birthday, Ed Crankshaft!

We interrupt the Crankshaft awards to bring you a breaking story in Major League Baseball!

Bill Mazeroski died this weekend. Mazeroski is a Baseball Hall of Fame member, who hit one of the most famous home runs in baseball history. It was the first ever World Series-winning home run. This has only been done one other time, by Joe Carter in 1993.

Why are we talking about baseball necrology? Because former Major League Baseball player Johnny Lucadello was born on February 22, 1919. Lucadello was also the youngest player on the 1940 Toledo Mud Hens, the real-life baseball team which Ed Crankshaft canonically also played for. (Ed also has a real-life retired jersey number.)

For that reason, I view today as Ed’s birthday, because it’s the latest possible day he could have been born. And I think Lillian McKenzie was in his high school class – because this is the Funkyverse – which makes her well over 100 as well.

Ed’s baseball career, with its early integration experiences, and winter ball in pre-revolution Cuba, fits this time frame. So does Lillian, Lucy, and Eugene being young adults whose lives were interrupted by World War II. So does Pam’s life, centered around the 1970 Kent State shootings. Ed would have been about 30 at her birth.

I want to stress that 107 is the youngest Ed Crankshaft could reasonably be in 2026. The average player in the 1940 American Association, and on the Mud Hens themselves, wasn’t 21 years old: he was 27. If Ed was 27 in 1940, he’d be 113 today. Which would almost make him the world’s oldest man. (Unless Walt Wallet from Gasoline Alley also counts.)

We can’t move Ed’s birthday much later than 1919, because then he’d be too young to be drafted into the military. What if we gave him Joe Nuxhall’s backstory (pitched briefly in the majors at age 15, making Ed’s birth year 1925)? Ed would be way too young to join the military legally, much less be drafted.

Which would have made Crankshaft extremely likely to reach the major leagues, no matter how illiterate he was. MLB teams in 1942-1945 were eager to employ players who weren’t subject to being drafted. And since some were already missing, the standards were lower. A player too young to be drafted, who was also good enough to pitch in AA (the top minor league level at the time), would have been given plenty of chances. Especially on a mediocre team, which the Detroit Tigers and Cleveland Indians (both implied to be the Mud Hens’ parent club at some point) and St. Louis Browns (now the Baltimore Orioles, who was Toledo’s real-life parent club in 1940) were.

The optimal birth year seems to be 1922. That would make Ed 20 in 1942, which is the youngest that would have been drafted that year. So maybe he’s only 104 now. Which would also make him extremely young for AA baseball, and by definition a phenom. But let’s solve one problem at a time here.

So how many inches from reality is Ed Crankshaft’s life?

Out of 35 players on the real-life 1940 Toledo Mud Hens, only two lived to see 2003! They were Jake Wade (1912-2006) and Harry Bailey (1918-2014). Six others made it to the 21st century: Armond Payton (1917-2000), Daniel Scudder (1916-2000), Tommy Criscola (1915-2001), Lucadello (died in 2001), Hal Spindel (1913-2002), and Robert Jones (1916-2002). A ninth player, Harry Kimberlin, died on December 31, 1999 at age 90. Kimberlin was the last former Major League Baseball player to die in the 20th century.

Bill Mazeroski’s famous home run was in 1960. He was born in 1936. He was 89 when he died this year. Ed Crankshaft is 15-20 years older than all of those standards. Look at the photos of Harry Kimberlin and João Marinho Neto in the above links. That is what a very old man looks like.

On top of that, Ed is absurdly active. He still works as a bus driver, bowls regularly, goes out to eat with friends, portrays Santa Claus, sings in a choir, gets into arguments with cartoonists, goes to the fair, has traveled to New York, Winnipeg and Columbus, performs frequent physical feats, and builds an AI-powered smart garden. Very few people on earth have the expertise to build an AI-powered smart garden. And few centenarians on earth have the ability to do any of the other things.

So, Ed, since you like gardening so much, why don’t you dig a 6′ x 3′ x 3′ rectangular hole in the ground? I’m sure we’ll find something useful to do with it. Oops, I mean “you’ll” find something useful to do with it. Happy birthday and many more!

We now return you to the Crankshaft awards!

To Everything, There Is A Season

I want to take off my snarker hat for a moment, and talk seriously about the future of Crankshaft.

We thought the past week would be yet another week of Skip Rawlings’ endless, pointless, onanistic interview with Batton Thomas. It turned out to be something much worse.

After what we saw this week – Tom Batiuk using the title character of Crankshaft as a tool to bash readers who want to see more of Crankshaft in the strip, and additionally as a strawman for Tom Batiuk’s tired “comic strips have to be funny” canard – there is one inescapable conclusion:

It’s time for Ed Crankshaft to die.

And I don’t mean that maliciously. I mean it in the way that a long-suffering family pet, who can’t be cured or even helped, needs to die. It’s a gut-wrenching decision to have a pet put down, but sometimes it’s the merciful thing to do.

Because the way Ed Crankshaft was used this week is appalling. How much do you have to hate your own creation, and all of its followers, to use that creation to mock their desire for more of it? I haven’t seen a production insult its audience this much since 1968.

Crosses The Line Twice takes Refuge In Audacity.

And this isn’t the first time Batiuk has acted like this. He killed off John Darling so the syndicate could no longer use the character (even though no one would ever want to). He’s bitter about the name Funky Winkerbean, because he thinks it held the strip back; the character Funky Winkerbean got pushed into the background. When Funky did appear, his arcs tended to center on his misfortunes: alcoholism, obesity, ego, incompetence, bad luck. And now Batiuk is bitter that readers want to see Crankshaft in Crankshaft, so he used the character to mock them. Notice a pattern?

The worst part of it is: these are his genuine fans. “Where’s Crankshaft?” isn’t something this blog thought up. It’s a common sentiment in online comment areas, from people who presumably enjoy the comic strip as Batiuk intended. They prefer Ed’s antics to the self-indulgent meandering slop Batiuk has been filling it with since Funky Winkerbean ended.

These are the people Batiuk should be trying to please. Or at least, listen to. “Where’s Crankshaft?” is essentially positive feedback. It affirms his decision all those years ago to give Crankshaft his own world. People seem to enjoy the cranky old bus driver and his antics.

Personally, I have no strong feelings about Ed Crankshaft. I don’t like or dislike him more than any other character. He’s a selfish, egotistical, malicious, unemployable jackass, but so are most male characters in the Funkyverse. But I do think Crankshaft deserves some dignity. He does not deserve to be used as a punching bag by an arrogant creator trying to make a point.

There are several reasons why the death of Ed Crankshaft would be beneficial to Crankshaft as a whole:

  • It’s way, way overdue. Ed Crankshaft is at least 106 years old. I base that on the fact that he played for the 1940 Toledo Mud Hens, and the youngest member of that team was born in February 1919. It’s also consistent with other mileposts of his life. He fought in World War II. He was an advocate for black baseball players in the early days of integration, which would have been the late 1940s. He played professional baseball in Cuba, which ended halfway through the 1960 season. His daughter Pam was a student at Kent State in 1970, making her birth year about 1950, at which time Ed was in his early 30s.

I know there are some individual strips that contradict that chronology. Like when Crankshaft claimed to admire Vic Power and Rocky Colavito growing up. But I think those were all caused by Timemop. If Tom Batiuk can use a time-traveling janitor to fix all his continuity errors, I can use a time-traveling janitor to break them again. Nudge!

If Batiuk truly believes his comic strips are the only ones where characters age realistically, it’s time to let nature take its course.

  • It would attract attention to the strip. Tom Batiuk loves media attention, and he loves killing off his own characters to get it. This would be another opportunity to do that. Alert the New York Times.
  • It would require no new writing or artwork. We already know Ed’s future, because it’s been shown in the strip. During the “Funky Winkerbean is ten years in the future from Crankshaft” era (2007-2022), Ed was depicted in FW as a decrepit husk.

We also know where he’s going to die: at a baseball game. So no new story needs to be written. Existing art can be repurposed or recreated. Which is a common practice in Batiuk’s work nowadays.

  • It would be a nice Continuity Nod. The Funkyverse loves revisiting its own stories, and this would do that.
  • It would be a satisfying end. It would bid farewell to the character in a way that lets readers and other characters say their goodbyes to the cranky old bus driver. In other words, it would be the opposite of what happened in Star Trek: Generations.
  • It would signal the strip’s change in direction. Have you ever seen (or been part of) a couple that really needs to break up, but they won’t pull the trigger on it? They just hang around together, hoping things will get better? Ed Crankshaft’s continued presence in Crankshaft feels like that.

    Batiuk clearly wants to turn the strip into Funky Winkerbean Act IV, full of comic books and writing awards and Dinkle and Montoni’s and the Winnipeg Blue Bombers and interviews of himself and cheap award-baiting. And Ed Crankshaft is in the way of all that.

    If I’m right that Batiuk is bitter about being pressured to include Ed in the proceedings, the best thing he could do for his readers and himself is retire the character permanently. It would end the “Where’s Crankshaft” questions, because readers would know he isn’t coming back. (Though death can be a dubious thing in the Funkyverse.)
  • It would let Tom Batiuk do what he claims he wants to do. Batiuk constantly complains about having to be a gag-a-day writer. If Ed Crankshaft isn’t around anymore, there’s a lot less need for gag strips in Crankshaft. It removes a writing crutch Batiuk has leaned on for far too long. And it calls his bluff. You want to write serious drama, not gags? Fine. Get rid of the main character you have to write gags for.

Of course, he’d also need to get rid of Dinkle. But that would only take one panel:

And if Tom Batiuk doesn’t want to kill off Crankshaft or Dinkle, I’ve got another character he can get rid of:

Growing Up Is Not So Tough, Except When I’ve Had Enough

Speaking of Canadian things:

In the last thread, poster csroberto compared Jeff’s behavior last week to that of widely-detested PBS Kids brat Caillou (pronounced KY-yoo). In fact, the Winnipeg Blue Bombers arc so far has been a remake of a story in Caillou. The story is called “Caillou’s Teddy Shirt”, and you can watch the entire 3-minute scene here:

One day, Caillou is dismayed to notice that his younger sister Rosie is wearing “his very favorite shirt,” though the importance of this shirt was never depicted previously. He cries, throws a tantrum, screams for mommy, and says “Rosie is wearing my teddy shirt!” Mommy explains that it’s too small for him to wear anymore, and gives it to Rosie as a hand-me-down. But Caillou doesn’t care, saying “it’s not too small for me! It’s mine!” and petulantly stomps off. Mommy’s reaction is to immediately pull the shirt off Rosie, saying “I need this shirt.” Rosie is understandably upset, but is quickly calmed when Mommy promises to put on her usual shirt.

Caillou puts the shirt on, and it’s much too small now, but Caillou doesn’t care. He tries taping the shirt in place, but that doesn’t work. Mommy brings a family photo album to show Caillou he was wearing the shirt at a much younger age. Then Mommy actually apologizes to Caillou for not asking his permission first, and offers to put it “in a special place to keep it forever.” Caillou gets the idea to put the shirt on the teddy bear.

Which doesn’t solve any of the actual problems. Caillou’s misbehavior was not corrected, Rosie still needs a new shirt, and Mommy has now poisoned the well for hand-me-downs for the rest of the children’s lives.

Last Monday, Jeff was dismayed to notice that he couldn’t find “his Winnipeg Blue Bombers game t-shirt”, though the importance of this shirt was never depicted previously. He doesn’t cry, throw a tantrum, scream for mommy, or petulantly stomp off, because Tom Batiuk would never be that direct. Everything must be implied. So look at Jeff’s face all of last week:

That is not the face of a man who can’t wear the shirt he wants to for a televised football game. That is the face of a man who lost all his documents five minutes before his tax evasion trial. The emotion is way too intense for the stakes.

Note also that none of these pictures are re-used. The emotion being expressed here is so important to Tom Batiuk that every single drawing of it had to be unique. Unlike Batton Thomas’ smug face, which we saw three times in 12 days, and have seen at least three more times since then:

The Crankshaft story then plays out differently than the Caillou story, but it’s still an exercise in appeasing bratty behavior that should have been corrected instead. And even the supremely spoiled Caillou wasn’t gifted a vacation as a replacement for an inexpensive shirt.

Making matters even worse, the Caillou story didn’t take place in front of another adult. Ed seems to be enabling the whole situation, saying “something is rotten in the state of Delaware” about Pam’s shiftiness. He also gloated when he received the reward, even though he wasn’t a party to the proceedings.

There’s also a little bit of a revenge fantasy about it all. It’s well-known that Tom Batiuk has never forgiven his mother for attempting to take away his comic books. This story plays out like a child’s revenge fantasy against a parent who has offended them in some way. And Pam is Jeff’s wife, not his mommy. It’s a little sick, honestly.

There is also question of whether tickets to a football game 1,000 air miles away with your father-in-law is even a good gift. But we’ll explore that another day.

Murder In The Burnings: The Major Suspects

We continue our look at arson suspects with the more serious candidates. Some names aren’t on either list, because they will turn up later in the story. But let me know if I missed your favorite.

SUSPECT: Cayla Williams Moore (suggested by: bewareofevehill)

PROSECUTION: The wife of Westview English teacher, Les Moore, and personal assistant to high school principal Nate Green. Cayla witnessed her husband defy her boss’ mandate that books on the school’s not-approved list are also not approved to be taught. Les confided in Cayla about the plan to distribute the book via bookstores. Fed up with Les’s overbearing ego, Cayla used that information in an attempt to frame him for the arson. The damage was intentionally small, because Cayla had no other dispute with Ms. McKenzie.

DEFENSE: If she wanted to use fire to rid herself of her husband, there are more direct approaches. Doesn’t anyone remember The Burning Bed? Continue reading “Murder In The Burnings: The Major Suspects”