How Important Might the Funny Pages Be Today?
Good things happened in the other world of the funnies. They will, again, these days, in this, our world.
Many of you have contacted me following the results of last week’s election; asking if I might write something soothing, something that might help heal the great divide in our country.
Over the past few days, I have read countless articles with the same theme; countless articles trying to answer the questions of how, why, what if, what now, etc., etc., and realized I could not improve on them.
Last night I was awoken by the thought of the funny papers I read over the many years of my youth. Might there be a place for them today, maybe even have a page of them delivered to everyone’s door every day for the rest of the year?
Why the funnies?
Before television and digital media, funny pages were one of the few forms of daily entertainment available to many. Beloved strips create a shared experience. Though they may have been lighthearted, they held a unique and important place in our culture. They made us happy. They took us to other worlds. They lessened our world. We forgot our problems in those moments when we were transported to a different place. They made us laugh. They made us cry. They made us reflect on our problems with humor and wit, showing us how, at times, they were insignificant.
They mirrored everyday issues in humorous ways.
They even tackled political issues and social anxiety. Maybe that’s what they should do today. Tackle some of our political issues in a more lighthearted way. The comics were a softening lens helping us to evaluate, sometimes criticize, societal values.
I loved the funny papers. In the 1920s and through the WWII years, there was a common phrase, “I’ll see you in the funny papers,” which became a breezy, light-hearted way to say goodbye, see you later; a recognition that lives might be as crazy as the characters in the comics, but at the same time could be funny, ironic, and interesting.
The funnies, daily comic strips with black and white panels of cartoons with compelling captions in balloons, appeared Monday through Saturday on the last page of the evening paper. The Sunday paper had a dedicated section with a longer series and with color printing in varied tones. Oh, where are they now?
I’m not sure why, but I read those funnies while kneeling; the paper spread on the linoleum floor in front of the warming Barstow stove, a pale globe above lighting the way, my head resting on my hands cupped under my chin, my fingers straddling my cheeks. The pitter-patter in that busy, doors-always-open, three-story family home may have reached a rumble, but I didn’t hear a thing once I became absorbed. My joyful cartoon friends were with me.
The color in the Sunday funnies jumped out even more because they were in their section on the front page of the bulky paper. Those funnies were so good, so appealing, so anticipated. Tarzan appeared along with Terry and the Pirates and Buz Sawyer. Many strips appeared both daily and on Sunday as with Little Orphan Annie telling the same story, or The Phantom, telling one story in the daily and a different story on Sunday.
As I recall, Tarzan and Buz Sawyer were on the front page. Blondie, L’il Abner, Rex Morgan, M.D., and L’il Henry were all part of the inside establishment. Also part of the inside crew were the mischievous Katzenjammer Kids, two German-American boys with familiar comic-strip iconography such as stars for pain, sawing logs for snoring, speech and thought balloons. I loved the drawings.
The comic strips also included Dick Tracy, Little Orphan Annie, and Flash Gordon. . . not so humorous, less kid-like, but unfolding an ongoing drama. There were spin-offs of comic books like Superman, Batman, and The Amazing Spider-Man. Prophetically, in later years, I grew to love one such comic and funny, Rex Morgan, M.D.
Imprinted in memory, comic books and the funnies became an encompassing part of my life. I had a Superman shirt and a Dick Tracy watch with Tracy’s rocking gun the second hand. I even clipped some comics and hung, rather taped, them on my bedroom wallpaper. Mom wasn’t happy. Later, I saw Broadway shows like “Annie” and “L’il Abner” which were based on their comics.
We are all linked to a time, a place, a memory. In this case, it was the funnies on the floor, in front of the stove, that afforded such a sweet road of childhood.
Those comic strips have a surprisingly significant role in our culture. Their importance goes beyond just entertainment. In some cases, they have shaped societal norms. In almost all cases, they have introduced storytelling that appealed to many if not all. They seemed to bring people together. That’s it! That’s my message; Bring People Together!
Sit back, relax for a moment, be confident, be reassured. Good things happened in the other world of the funnies. They will, again, these days, in this, our world.
“I’ll see you in the funny papers.”
Oh, 😄 funny, this brought me back to when I couldn’t wait for the Sunday paper. With much patience and anticipation, I had to wait for Dad to hand me the funny paper section, as I wasn’t allowed to “mess up” the paper🤣. It was so much fun to lay on the floor with paper spread out. I remember my brother and I would then rush to rip off pieces of wax paper and lay it over our favorite cartoon then rub wax paper with a popsicle stick and like magic, the image of cartoon would appear!! Then, run to hang on bedroom wall.
Thank you so much for bringing back those beautiful times. We sorely need them now than ever before.
Ed, yes, the comics brought joy to all in the 40S. I would have to wait in line while my four older brothers digested the weeks funnies. OH, by the way not to stir feathers but many people went to Palookaville Tuesday. It was you Charlie, I coulda have been a contender. What did I get " a one-way ticket to Palookaville" On the Waterfront 1954.