Category Archives: Comic Strip Characters

I YAM WHAT I YAM

 

I YAM WHAT I YAM

“Do you ever feel like a comic strip character?” This was the topic of conversation at a weekly dinner with  some pals of mine last week.

“My secret self is Popeye; who are you?”

When I first approached this train of thought, I was alone at my desk, wondering what I wanted to write about and the thought crossed my mind about playing cops and robbers as a boy. Or Cowboys and Indians. Or Alley Oop.

So who am I when I make that first call to a prospect or when I answer a call from a troubled client or write up an order for my favorite customer?

What hat am I wearing when I ask a lady for a dinner date?

Is there a cape in my imaginary closet?

A sword?

A turned around collar?

A red Captain Marvel suit?

Our lives begin with affirmation.

By the time we are eighteen months old we have mastered the challenge of scientific observation and established our most basic methods of coping with fear. We know to act innocent or guilty, we are aggressive or pleasant, we push and we pull.

For the next couple of decades we will be creating our personas, aping lines from songs, the latest styles and speech patterns and our most private thoughts will be linked somehow to the need for approval either for protection from violence or for good vibrations as saluted by Mike Love in the sixties.

And if from all of this there emerges a goal for defining our true selves chances are we shall all benefit from this, including the servant.

If that goal is totally self-serving everyone wins but the servant.

This is a time of year where we all join hands.


Popeye

 

 

 

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Fine Fine Fifty Nine

59 Caddy 1-4 003

Fifty Nine

So Fine

All Mine

Frame’s Mine Also

And Sandy’s (let’s not forget).

When Sandra Schou posted this on Facebook a while back I said Fifty Nine Richy Rich car.

And Sandy said here ya go Broom Boy and here it is.

My favorite photographer (after Ansel)

Fine, Fine fifty Nine

Better than a pony or a jug of wine

Better than a flip top Ford

Fancy as  a Jag You Are.

By Bad, Bad Lee Boy Broom

(Baddest guy in the whole darn room)

COMMENT FROM SANDY  “Very very fine job Lee Boy Broom!  Lets not also forget, how far and how long that 59er traveled before it finally made it to your door! LOL
Sent from my iPhone” 9 13 2013.

REPLY FROM LEE  “A month of traveling back and forth through the US Mails and another month with the framing. Well worth the wait. Thank you Sandra Schou of the Far Far North.”

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LIVING LOVE AND LOVING LIFE

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LIVING LOVE AND LOVING LIFE

 

What comes to mind when you think of success?

Do you wrangle with rhythm your views of the best?

Do you shine your shoes and smile as you dress?

Do you look in the mirror and beat your chest and say

“My, my…

I love my life and I Love Living it…

Look at that smile –

I love sharing it.”

Great; now go write that book on SUCCESS.

UNDERSTANDING THE WINDSOR KNOT

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I love the way he expresses himself.
But did you hear what he was saying?

Interesting painting.
Yes but do you like it?

She really stands out in a crowd.
Yes, but have you met her?

 

He was a quiet one; yes he was; always looking for solutions, inventing a better way to get a desired result in less time or with an improvement of some sort. And then John met Cathy.

To bed and beyond, his moments of studious repose, now naught but a memoire, his lab rats mere pets and his need for intellectual stimulation limited to thirty ways to tie a knot in the silk appendage now dangling daily from the collar of his Saville Rowe shirt, John looked around the art gallery  and vowed to change his name, arresting his quest for the old life. He would abandon all and become Rupert the Right.

Goodbye Cathy Dear, here; you may have this as a memoire. Unbuttoning his collar brought a sigh that became a gasp as his lungs inflated with the promise of freedom and new frontiers; “Here is my tie with the Windsor knot; the knot is naught but a naughty memoire. Keep it” he said. “hang it on the bed post” he added.” And Rupert nee John, once left, now right, went shopping.

JOHN MET CATHY AND THEN…

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He was a quiet one; yes he was; always alert to solutions to the many problems of a given day, an  inventor on the lookout for a better way to get a desired result in less time; here a tweak, there a tweak, everywhere a tweak-tweak…

And then John met Cathy.

To bed and beyond, his moments of studious repose now naught but a memoire, his lab rats mere pets and his need for intellectual stimulation limited to thirty ways to tie a knot in the silk appendage now dangling daily from the collar of his Saville Rowe shirt, John looked around the art gallery  and vowed to change his name, arresting his quest for the old life. He would abandon all and become Rupert the Right.

Goodbye Cathy Dear, here; you may have this as a memoire. Unbuttoning his collar brought a sigh that became a gasp as his lungs inflated with the promise of freedom and new frontiers; “Here is my tie with the Windsor knot; the knot is naught but a naughty memoire. Keep it” he said. “hang it on the bed post” he added.” And Rupert nee John, once left  (now right)  went shopping.

UNDERSTANDING THE WINDSOR KNOT

IMG

I love the way he expresses himself.
But did you hear what he was saying?

Interesting painting.
Yes but do you like it?

She really stands out in a crowd.
Yes, but have you met her?

 

He was a quiet one; yes he was; always looking for solutions, inventing a better way to get a desired result in less time or with an improvement of some sort. And then John met Cathy.

To bed and beyond, his moments of studious repose, now naught but a memoire, his lab rats mere pets and his need for intellectual stimulation limited to thirty ways to tie a knot in the silk appendage now dangling daily from the collar of his Saville Rowe shirt, John looked around the art gallery  and vowed to change his name, arresting his quest for the old life. He would abandon all and become Rupert the Right.

Goodbye Cathy Dear, here; you may have this as a memoire. Unbuttoning his collar brought a sigh that became a gasp as his lungs inflated with the promise of freedom and new frontiers; “Here is my tie with the Windsor knot; the knot is naught but a naughty memoire. Keep it” he said. “hang it on the bed post” he added.” And Rupert nee John, once left, now right, went shopping.

BUFFALO BILL KILLS A FLY AND A GNAT WITH A SINGLE SWAT *

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*There were no pigeons around.

On display for all to see who were able,

”It is eye”

Said the natty, gnat, gnat on the nose of the fly

Who was perched on the nose of an irritable guy; “Take that”.

And the irritable man, he swatted away

At the fly on his nose,

And the gnat (there he goes),

As his world went awry, said “goodbye”.

 

And the irritable man with the tie in his hand

Completed the Windsor knot.

And tucking at this and that around the collar until satisfied that “handsome is as handsome does”

(He loved this tie a lot),

Except for the spot

Where the fly had landed.

So happy he was that the fly was now gone. (the fly never really knew what hit him on the return approach).

The gnat by the way, was just that, In The Way.

And the hand of the man went SWAT once again

And returned to the view in the glass in the lav

And perfected the knot in his Brooks Brothers tie and said “Dang,

I’m a handsome man.”