Finally 03/26/21

Why finally? Because it links this week’s comics. Finally we got Sid out of the house and can plan what to do with his room. And finally we got an appointment for our Covid vaccine shots. First, about the Covid. As a man of a certain age, it reminds me a lot of Vietnam. Huh? Relax, I’ll explain. It was 1971 and yours truly was a freshman at Washington U in St. Louis. I sat around on the floor with a bunch of buddies listening to the radio announce birthdates that were being pulled out of a tumbler. Speaking of tumblers, we also had a bottle of crappy scotch on the floor and we kept taking shots when we didn’t get our birthday called. My roommate’s birthday was May 5th, and I was May 15th. The war was starting to wind down and only the first 50 birthdates called would have to enlist in the army. The voice called out, “Number 5…May 5th.” Now May 5th sounds a lot like May 15th, but it wasn’t, thank goodness for yours truly. My roommate, however, left for active duty and I never heard from him again. I hope he made it. May 15th didn’t get called until after number 250 so I was safe. But what reminded me of Covid is it’s the only time I can remember people hoping they were sick, that something was wrong with them. In the case of Vietnam, something wrong could get you declared 4F. I have no idea what that stands for but it means, you’re out. The army can’t use you. It’s like on a school test. F isn’t a low enough grade for you. You’re 4F. Take that! With Covid, if you weren’t yet 65, you’d have to have something wrong with you in order to qualify for the shot. Anxiety, depression, elevated heart beat, hypertension, you name it. The point is it’s the only other time I can remember people hoping their doctors would find something wrong with them. Bone spurs, anyone?

Next up on your scroll is the inevitable emptying of Sid’s room. All traces of Sid are gone, posters, clothes, shoes, books, hell, even Sid himself. It was what Al and Joanne wanted for the last 5 or 6 years. But, of course, now that he’s gone they miss the hell out of him. I will point out that hey don’t miss him enough to stop contemplating who gets his room and what they are planning to do with said room, once a winner has been declared. And like most marital squabbles, the guy has no chance emerging as the winner. Al, while not an easy man to live with, was easy to manipulate in this situation. A NY Giants foot pillow, to prop his feet up during games, was all it took for Joanne to win the day. Speaking for the entire male gender, we may not think we’re easy to outmaneuver, but trust us, we are. But don’t worry. Al will get his chance. Wait until they start to clean out the garage.

That’s it for this week. Have a great weekend and we’ll be back again next week with two new ones.

Andy and John