When did we become too impatient to read the comics?
I woke up this Sunday morning with a memory of past days—back when the paper was likely already on the front porch. And once my dad relinquished the last section, I would be handed the comic’s page. I would lay it flat on the ground and sit Indian style to harvest the giggles and the deeper contemplations it would provide.
But we all move too fast for comics now. Now our screens light up with constant suggestions of our personal algorithms, and we quickly swipe to get to the next piece of information. If we giggle, it’s likely at someone else’s expense.
Peanuts taught us that Charlie Brown was just a good guy who seldom got a break. He was a guy that tried to do what was right. His best friend Linus carried a baby blanket and sucked his thumb. His other friend Schroeder was a virtuoso on the piano. Pig Pen (no real name given) had questionable hygiene habits, and Lucy was a thorn in his side. He admired the “little red-haired girl” but only from afar.
I learned much from them and from “Lil’ Abner,” “Ziggy,” and even “Garfield.” I marveled that “Hi and Lois” had children that never grew up! I took the time to examine each square of information, sepia toned colors, and intended lessons.
But now it’s Pokémon, K-Pop Demon Hunters, and Bluey dancing across the screens. I miss the show. I miss the simplicity and probably miss the message buried within. It was another time. And I contemplate the memories as I sit and smile on my lanai.
