Sunday Kind of Love – The Retired Mensch

The Mensch was having withdrawal symptoms on Sunday. This wasn’t the first time. It has happened before. In fact its happened every Sunday since the Mensch left New Jersey for the Lowcountry. Monday through Saturday there is no problem. I can face the day after my breakfast coffee and newspaper. But its those damn Sundays that leave my reeling and missing my friends. I don’t know when I got hooked.

Maybe it was back in the 70’s in Iowa when there was a morning and afternoon newspaper. After supper I’d put the kids to bed while Mrs. Mensch cleaned the kitchen. I’d sit in the recliner, tip my head back, put my feet up and read the newspapers. Front page, first section, business, local news, sports and then the comics, morning and evening.

The comics were my reward for reading all that self-serving boring stuff, editorials and letters to the editor. Here were Doonesbury, Blondie, Peanuts, Beetle Bailey, Garfield and Calvin and Hobbes to give me a chuckle. Four squares to a panel: the set up in square one, comments in squares two and three and the coup de grace in square four. But Sunday was the best!
Far Side, Bloom County, Kudzu, Over The Hedge, Mother Goose & Grimm, Dilbert and all the others came to “life” on Sundays when there were four, six or eight pages of comics in color!

The Des Moines Register, Ames Tribune, Newark Star Ledger, Philadelphia Inquirer, Asbury Park Press, Daily News, they all printed the weekday comics on Sunday in color. All the weekday comics!

In Charleston, a certain newspaper, the only newspaper, and to be Politically and Correct shall remain nameless, apparently cannot afford the ink or paper to print a full complement of comics on Sunday. Yes, there are six pages but the panels are so large that even Mr. Magoo could read them. There would be plenty of room for everyone if they shrunk the panels and dumped certain Sunday only strips.

Don’t take my word for it, take a count of the comics on any day Monday through Saturday. If you passed into second grade, you counted 32 comic strips. OK, now go get Sunday’s paper out of the recycle bin and do another count: Snoopy, Garfield and the Canadian family on page one; Hi&Lois, LuAnn and Prince Valiant on page two (the Prince doesn’t appear M-S and has fighting the same dragon in three panels for decades); Blondie, Dilbert, Lockhorns, Family Circus and FoxTrot (another Sunday interloper) on page three; Hagar, that busybody Mary Worth, favorite soldier Beetle Bailey, and know it all Mark Trail on page four; the bar sop Andy Capp, Dustin, B.C. and Doonesbury on page 5 and Dennis, who never ages, the Menace on page six along with the Pearls wackos. If you count Slylock Fox, it adds up to twenty-two comic strips.

Where’s Ziggy, Marmaduke, the Jump Start gang? I know that Curtis works on Sunday as do Sally Forth, Rose, Judge Parker, and Jeremy (Zits). The Mensch misses the Wizard and Grandma in Grand Avenue. And what about Wanda in Baby Blues and Fuzzy?
Can you feel my withdrawal pangs? It is a wonder that I can even make it through a Sunday.

And don’t get me started about the JUMBLE. How hard can it be to drop that puzzle in on the obituary page or in the sports pages? Instead of a picture of a kid holding his first fish or a dead deer, there could be the BMLEUJ. Get it?