It all began over pitchers of beer at Lederhosen. Fred, Jim and I were discussing the terrible blight on American culture known as the Sunday Funnies. With a few exceptions (Far Side and Calvin and Hobbes) there is little in this most disappointing section of the paper to laugh at.
We spoke of the Viking on-the-verge-of-divorcing-his-wife Hagar the Horrible; the Spencer's Gift Cardesque lite humor of the sometimes inexplicable B.C.; the depressing drunken political birds of Shoe; the almost so bad it's good neurotic woman stereotype Cathy…
Also, since we, like the rest of the world, haven't actually read the funnies in years, we didn't know much about newer comics like Adam at Home. Please tell me why this is funny.
One thing is certain: if you want a job with longevity and security become a comic strip artist. Just ask Brad Anderson how many crazy situations he's had to get Marmaduke into in the last billion years.