Cat, Cook and Candle

It is impossible to admonish, throw hints at, or guilt trip someone who is behaving rudely on purpose. A cat does not sit on your newspaper because he is confused; he sits there because he knows you are reading and wants attention. Here, Garfield fully understands that he is disrupting Jon's romantic intent, snubbing Liz, and willfully disregarding Jon's forceful hint — refuting it, even, as the man implies that any company would be a third wheel, and the cat deflects the insinuation by pretending it was addressed elsewhere.

Now, as to the Garf's motivation, it is possible that he is asserting his household dominance and demonstrating his primacy to Jon and over Liz. As the devil is a lawyer whose favorite phrase is "well, technically...," Garfield inserts himself into the conversation just in time to assign himself a spot in Jon's vague personal pronoun. If Jon wants the company of One, that should, can, and will only mean Garfield.

On the other paw, this is about the food, and if only two diners will be eating in style tonight, Garfield is determined, assumes, or knows he is taking up one of those reservations.

Orange Cats Can't Polka

The solidly funny reveal of Jon's idea of the relationship intensity-level between attending professional lectures and looking at hosiery is supported in each panel by more-or-less normal interaction turned into comedy mirrors by the various failings and passions of the characters. This is, in the end, a strip about how goofy and bad Jon's taste is, while straight man Liz is wearing a lemon-lime tube top.

1: Jon's sentiment is not unwelcome (Liz returns it), but the thrust of his character is in how he earnestly announces "I like you" as a way to start a conversation. Garfield stands by watching, though he is not usually interested in Jon's doings, which makes us ask: what was going on before this scene?

2: I cannot praise enough, nor do I need to unpack the image of a man announcing "I think it's time we took our relationship to the next level" as he simultaneously makes a mad dash away from a woman. It is maybe not as relevant to Jon and Liz's lives as some other people's, but it is a fine portrait of human romance through the ages.

3: Pointless observation (!): seven bubblettes is a lot of little circles to descend from a thought bubble.

If Polka-Karaoke Night sounds fun to you (it kinda does to me), and/or you don't think polka is inherently funny, you have fallen prey to a trance effecting many Garfield readers. After 27 years, it's easy to forget Garfield is a cat. The joke is that Jon has a designated night that he sings polkas to his cat. Normally he is alone for this, but now that he has a girlfriend, she and Jon get to take turns singing to each other... and the cat. God help me, I want to see the strip where Jon spends hours trying to coax Garfield to do a Frankie Yankovic number.

Unlikely: -That Jon is able to hook up a microphone and amp and lug a full-sized accordion (they're heavy, folks) into the room with enough speed to surprise Liz. This is timing that works pretty well in Bob Clampett cartoons, and can be done in radio, but functions effortlessly in comics.
-That the karaoke festivities require live instruments, which would be more of a "Sing-Along as Jon Plays Accordion Night."
-That Garfield would be so happy about polka karaoke night. Unless he's being sarcastic and/or rubbing it in to Liz that this is what her life has become.

Meanwhile... The Let's Polka blog is incensed over today's strip. Please let this start a war between a polka blog and a Garfield blog: WELCOME TO THE 21ST CENTURY! The critics say Garfield is toothless; I say let 'em eat my big fat hairy deal.

Throwing In The Bowel

Jon, Panel One: Childlike, questioning, possibly concerned about strange but certainly innocuous practices he does not understand, like "slide projection".

Liz, Panel One: Sweet, amused, slightly condescending in that approving way that only your mother or girlfriend is allowed to speak to you.

Jon, Panel Two: Though already excited for the lecture to begin, the promise of such minor embellishments as pictorial slides pushes the deal into entertainment territory for Jon. What sort of avant garde "shows" Jon is used to attending, I cannot say, though I do know he is easily shocked by exotic sights in motion pictures.

Liz, Panel Two: Knowing silence, as with all silences in Garfield, gives us special windows into characters. Anticipating the disaster of the next panel, and possibly just the refreshing company of a man thrilled by the prospect of slides.

Jon, Panel Three: Garfield Storytelling 101: Audience reaction is a funnier reveal than seeing a picture of a diseased intestine.

Liz, Panel Three: The moments when we can stomach repulsive sights our friends cannot is a small joy not documented often enough. Savor them. They bring us closer together, even when those moments include a woman's high tolerance for photos of rotten colons.

Recurring Gag: Jon has an unfortunate tendency to demonstrate willingness to participate in Liz's life by faking fascination with animals' excretory systems.

The Concession Stand: Complete and Unbuttered

In a room where even the vets in attendance look unhappy, and professional decorum is stifling any pre-lecture chat, Jon manages to amuse himself and his date. Jon's baseless enthusiasm and silly optimism (squelched easily enough though it may be; confidence is still not Jon's strong suite) are the same low-key, uncelebrated traits that get any of us through the day. In Jon they're a little heightened, and while not a man of burning Wuthering Heights passion, this is a good demonstration of Jon's appeal. Boyish enthusiasm, ability to make fun for oneself, and curiosity about new experiences, however minor are all are among the qualities in this man of little personality which I suspect Liz sees in him. Doubters would do well to ask themselves if they are fun-loving enough to bring their own big bag of theater popcorn to a medical lecture.

Veterinary Fashion Beat: In for Fall '06: extra-wide ties and neck scarves.

Cry for Jon

Two particular points of interest today. Garfield regularly trades in schadenfreude gags, wherein Garfield takes pleasure in Jon or Odie's pain. This visit to the movies provides a sweet-natured and related counterpoint. It's not Liz's sadness that gives Jon happiness, but her need for comfort, which is a natural byproduct of sadness. There's nothing insidious about taking pleasure in the ability to be there for a someone in need, but it is a minor human failing we do not usually admit. In more dire circumstances it is better known as the sin of pride. But Liz is not hurt or sad on a soul-shaking level - the reasons we attend weepy movies are the reasons the Greeks produced tragedy, and ultimately cathartic; the audience in their own way is happy because of their willful immersion in superficial sadness. Because of this we aren't concerned that Jon's exhibiting sociopathic behavior and feeling gleeful while others weep, rather there's a wistful little joke about a man unaccustomed to a social touch feeling his way in the world of interpersonal contact.

Audience Reaction Studies
Whatever the movie is about, surely a bittersweet romance, a real-life drama is happening in the theater, and goes unnoticed by all but the knowing and/or leering elderly woman. The rest of the audience is rapt, and from the neckless soda-sucker to the neck-braced popcorn-eater to the fright-wigged aerobics instructor, in true Garfield fashion, no one looks like they're enjoying themselves.

Besides Liz, who I hope is talking at normal volume during a movie only for expositional purposes, no one is communicating the emotional effects of the film so well as the redhead in the turtleneck. Cartooning crowds of ugly people without distracting from a simple joke is a tricky tightrope. Her one-handed pantomime makes her the only audience member vying for our attention in the packed frame. Also I'm pretty sure her date is one of the Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers.

The Naked Kitty

A fine result of Jon and Liz's recent dating developments is it allows jokes on the topic of Old Friend Hates Buddy's Changes in Behavior Over Significant Other. This plays beautifully in Garfield because the characters and relationships are already set up for it. Jon's desperate and eager attempts to please a woman at all cost to personal dignity and comfort flow naturally into a man totally pussy whipped, even by a woman making few if any demands. Today all Liz has to do is call him, and Jon bends over backwards to be attentive, even as he brazenly violates his friend's comfort zone and lies to Liz. It's also a sweet observation about how exciting new relationships are, but in Garfield it's always tinged with the ominous undertone: Jon overcompensates because he's love-starved.

Garfield is just as naked as Jon, of course, but chalk it up to joke logic. Besides, it's funny that Garfield would complain about having to look at Jon's scrawny, soapy body, finding it more disgusting than his own robust physique, that he holds Jon to certain human standards of decency while he allows himself to pick an choose. Even better it tells us something about mutual understandings in Jon and Garfield's domestic situation. Maybe not much, but at least that Garfield has divested himself of at least one more normal cat behavior, that mysterious love of staring solemnly at their naked owners.

Also Garfield's phrasing "could you do nothing with a towel on?" holds the awareness that it may be a given that Garfield is a chronicle of inactivity, but at least it's not usually waving its crotch in your face.

yes I said yes I will Yes.

Jon: is either using comic strip generic language or plans to make out with Liz. Because when I ask someone to go to a movie, it's a specific movie, and I tell them the title. If I just say "the movies", it means I do not and you should not care what the movie is, because the theater is just a place to make out. Panel one, Jon puts on his half-lidded, smirking ladies' man face, a picture of confidence. Panel two reveals Jon has long-forgotten the signified emotion that's supposed to be behind a confident expression. Panel three shows Jon's self-destruct reflex trying to kick in and put his life back into the miserable rut that deep down, we consider our natural state.

Liz: is probably impressed Jon was able to restrain himself from calling her for 12 days, even as she counted each one and knitted her brow, looking at the X's on the calendar. I know I am.

Garfield: is not really happy for Jon, as evidenced in panel two. He is finally amused by a man's confusion and probably terror, and relishes the possibility that Jon's anxiety may continue for some time.

Again: Does Jon move the phone to the table for these calls, or is it a different table, or is it a different part of a very long table?

It's So Glandular II

This is the grand finale, I guess, so grab a cup of coffee and a plate of last night's lasagna. We're gonna be here awhile.

This one's for the fans. The composition echoes Jon's first kiss with Liz some 25 years ago. The poor guy's fashion sense has either degenerated or improved, depending on your stance on '80s cut suits and wide ties. Frankly, there's nothing inherently wrong with a plaid suit if you don't mix patterns with your tie.

Panel 1:
Now I've had my fair share of kisses under the waxing moon, but never found call to execute the stiff-armed death-grip wrist-grab Jon's pulling on Liz. Also it's funny that it force's Jon's lapel to curl up over his arm. The desperation of this stance ("you will NOT get away") leads me to believe this development doesn't force us to reinterpret the last 28 years as Liz totally masking her affection for Jon, but represents a slow erosion of her standards for a mate.

Liz's attire, a modernized, accessorized, sexier update of her 1981 eveningwear, could have been foreshadowingng for the most astute of Garfield students. Said students are probably wondering what Liz did with her yellow purse since leaving the restaurant, though. For those with a continuity bent, July 28 was never established as Jon's birthday until 2001, skipped again in 2002, and has only been granted silly minor gags ever since. Until today it's never been a landmark date.

Good Lord, check out the trolley on Doc Wilson! Maybe I stare at Garfield strips too much, but it's hard to recall anything sexier than Liz's arched back and sultry expression. Nor can I recall any reason for Liz and Jon to call their emotionally wrenching failed dates a "wonderful time."

Panel 2: The difference between the 1981 kiss and 2006 is a floating comics shorthand heart: it means "love". Although today's embrace is not as full-contact and PG-rated, the emotions are different. Except Garfield, that unflappable Buddha of negative virtue, who still stares with chilly disinterested cynicism at his master's folly. What's whirring in that cat-brain is not the shock we were promised by the promotional advertising for this story, but the timeless, coldly bemused refrain: Human love. It's so glandular.

Also: Is Liz talking while she's got a mouthful of Arbuckle tongue?

Panel 3:
So the newspaper headline that graced the Garfield homepage the last 11 days, "COMIC STRIP SHOCKER!" turned out to be an elaborate mislead. It is certainly what passes for a major development in this strip about inaction, but if something is to "doom" Garfield, it will be the ramifications from a Jon/Liz union, not this sweet and wistful little ending.

And the moon cycle changes as we watch, the glands pulse, the cat grins at us, and two people enter a new phase. Did you feel a little warm tingle in your heart? Do you find Garfield's closing sentiment cute? It's not a fare-the-well, folks: it's a punchline. When Garfield stares through the fourth wall, lids half-closed, mouth twisted into predatory sneer, that's when our boy is telling The Truth through sarcasm. If you think anyone in Garfield lives happily ever after, you haven't been reading Garfield long. Two people enter a new phase that looks like happiness. Ever been in love? The glandular rush is a tide that masks a shoreline of bloody shipwrecks like you've never seen. Yah tah tah tah.

Jon's Horoscope: Day Eleven

Hey Birthday Boy! For once your dreams come true! Say goodbye to the last 28 mind-numbing years of frustration and loneliness and celebrate your manly manhood with the love of your life... and your cat. Today's lucky number: 28 (duh)

It is not for Permanent Monday to subject its delicate readers to graphic descriptions of the activity implied by "celebrate your manly manhood". I do not discourage you from mailing me detailed, detailed fanfic on the topic though. It is up to you if Liz asks Jon to wear his fake moustache.

It's very silly that the newspaper publishes a horoscope written for one specific man. More silly is the implication today that Jon is 28 years old just because the strip is 28 years old. This makes less sense than Garfield's one-to-one aging with the strip, because it means Jon wasn't even born when Garfield debuted. So on June 19, 1978, Garfield is a 30-pound newborn kitten and Jon is a talking fetus.

"Uh..."

Every panel is funny today. Every beat is a perfect measure, musical in precision.

"Uh, Liz?" is such a shitty opening for a come-on; it's unusual because it's real and recognizable, unlike Jon's usual gooniness which is an over-the-top placeholder for our own awkwardness.

"Yes?": Really, it's Liz's expression. "Uh, Liz?" is only two words, but they're so exact they can only mean one thing: you're gonna get totally, earnestly hit-upon. For whatever motivations of her own, Liz is happy about this, and that promise is what will fuel this joke. Because sometimes all you have to say is "Uh, Liz?", witness the scrunched expression of panic and cornered dismay. And that expression, my dear ones, is not funny in the least.

Jon, Panel 2: Jon and Garfield's poses are unwavering today, but the shades of meaning are like a rainbow. Well, a three-color rainbow. Here the eager confidence chills in Jon's chest, and though they're the same circles and dots, I swear I can see them glaze over with sick green fear.

Liz, Panel 2: And yes, Liz's face registers the shift between thinking Jon is sweet and deeply weird, but the sudden retraction of her hand from Garfield's back seals the deal: she wants so little to do with Jon that even touching his cat feels wrong.

Liz, Panel 3: There's not much space in Garfield for timing, but the disappearance of Liz is sudden enough for a laugh, and evocative. Did she run? No, she backed away slowly.

"I choked, didn't I?": Could be Jon blacked out in panel two. Could be he is in denial. Could be he wants confirmation because he really has no idea if Liz's terrified escape means he succeeded or not. Could be Jon doesn't even know what reaction he wanted. I'm happy with any of the above, because the laugh-aloud is Jon's frozen grimace and wide-eyed terror at what he's done. Hooray!

Garfield's punchline: Yeah, I laughed again.

Pussycat Pussycat Where Have You Been?

The best detail in this strip is Garfield rotating his head to listen to the conversation of two people standing two feet apart.

Panel three: Is it more insulting or pathetic that Jon thinks he can convince Liz that an appointment written in a notebook can be spontaneously cancelled? Myself I'm surprised that Jon owns a daily planner at all. My calendar just says "read Garfield" every day.

What does Garfield's coy smile mean? I'd like to think it's a timely Tale of Two Kitties reference, and because of Garfield's well-known animosity towards the royals, he's glad the Queen cancelled.

So... Panel one: Is Liz about to ask Jon out, before he gets too eager and blows it? Or am I suffering from the same delusions as Jon? It's not because I'm a Jon/Liz 'shipper. I just like the idea of Liz, who knows exactly what kind of bad investment Jon is, making herself unhappy by dating him anyway. Because the lifestuff of tragedy is the dried blood of comedy.