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2006-07 was quite the year in the soaps, guys. Mark Trail encountered a tame bear who couldn’t understand your hostility towards her, which I immortalized in t-shirt form. Later, Mark punched a man’s beard off.

In Gil Thorp, one of Gil’s student athletes accidentally cut his own leg off with a chainsaw. In the spring, a weird lonely old man wandered onto Milford High’s grounds, who helped coach the baseball team and claimed to have played in the Negro Leagues and insisted on being called by a funny nickname.

Turns out he was a fraud, and Gil knew about it but never said anything because he was doing Gil’s job for free so why rock the boat?

Also, in Judge Parker, a substitute butler from a temp agency forced some French punk rockers to strip to their underwear at gunpoint. I swear I didn’t make a single word in that sentence up.

But year three of my blog, without question, belonged to Aldo Kelrast, the man whose name was an anagram for “stalker” because he stalked Mary Worth, stalked her from the first moment he saw her.

Mary gave Aldo the cold shoulder pretty much right away, which didn’t stop him from popping up unexpectedly.

Aldo proved wholly unable to grasp the concept of consent, even when Mary used barbarous foreign tongues to express her disinterest.

Mary eventually had no choice but to arrange an intervention for Aldo, if any group of people brought together in one room to yell at someone counts as an “intervention.” Aldo reacted as most would: by going directly to a liquor store and driving over a cliff to his death. His pudgy, Captain Kangaroo-esque corpse was left in a pile of mangled steel.

This was a huge deal. People went nuts! My blog traffic was off the charts! There was coverage on CNN! There were tribute videos!

Later, Mary and her friends went to his funeral, to make sure he was really dead, and to gloat. It was awkward and fantastic. Cold justice had been meted out, and Mary was victorious. Farewell, Aldo: you didn’t deserve to die, but you shouldn’t have gone around stalking people either.

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The 2005-06 blogging year (I’m going to start calling it the July 11 to July 10 periods under consideration “blogging years”; hopefully this will be the basis for the new calendar, in the Curmudgeonarchy) was another strong one, soap-opera-wise! There was a great Mark Trail series where evil hillbillies kidnapped Andy, which was a thing that they did on the regular, apparently?

Don’t worry, Mark definitely got some good punching in on that one. Meanwhile, Gil Thorp’s basketball season plot revolved around Ted Pearse, a cool and mysterious new basketball prodigy in town who turned out to be homeless, which prompted fans of rival teams to literally dress up as hobos to taunt him.

(Earlier Ted’s friends pretended he had a terrible disease, to make him feel loved? I don’t really understand sports or how men typically relate to each other, guys.)

But 2005-6 was definitely, definitely the the year of Rex and Troy.

Troy was another doctor who tracked down Rex and they had the flirtiest conversation that ever flirted, which I reproduce here in its entirety:

The flirting continued:

They played some golf, or something, and Rex couldn’t stop talking about it the next day:

Then they played more golf and talked about universal health insurance, and were going to start some do-gooder clinic together, but then, uh, Troy turned out to not be a real doctor and fled town to avoid arrest, the end. Rex had to go back to his sham of a marriage/life, but he will always, always remember.

TOMORROW: Who could possibly top the list of the 2006-07 year out of numerous OK I can’t even finish this, it is Aldo, obviously it is Aldo, but tune in anyway to see the runners up. And if you don’t know who Aldo is, prepare for amazement!

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Shoe, 6/19/14

Someday in the far future, when the only relic of 21st century human culture is a multi-volume hardcopy of TV Tropes, laboriously hand-copied and bound in a post-apocalyptic monastery, I will be chiefly remembered for coining the word nephewism to describe a scenario where fictional characters live with their aunts and/or uncles for never-quite-explained reasons. The relationship between Skyler and his Uncle Cosmo seems like a particularly grim version of this. Cosmo grudgingly supplies Skyler with a roof under which to sleep, thanks to blood ties and a ghostly memory of affection for a presumably deceased sibling, but that seems to be about it. Certainly we never see the two of them eating anything resembling a family meal; usually the Perfesser sits too close to the TV eating off his tray and and Skyler is left to fend for himself. There isn’t even another chair in the living room for the kid to sit on. I guess he’ll be eating his TV dinner in his bedroom, assuming he has microwave privileges.

Mary Worth, 6/19/14

There have been some hints so far in this storyline that Olive’s parents have been less than thrilled with her wild imagination, presumably to set them up as the villains, so you’d think that they’d be rather horrified by this pronouncement, and yet they seem to be giving each other pleased knowing glances in panel two. A possible clue: note the WOW CHIPS in the background of the first panel. WOW was a brand used by Frito-Lay in the mid ’90s to identify products that contained Olestra; Olestra, if you’re too young to remember, was an artificial fat substitue that had some less than pleasant effects on the human digestion system, leading to a tortuous negotiation between the food industry and the FDA over a vaguely commercially viable synonym for “anal leakage” that could be used in an on-package warning label (the compromise arrived at was “loose stools”). Anyway, Olestra never really took off, for obvious reasons, so I’m guessing the WOW brand is now being used for chips with similarly dodgy ingredients — mild hallucinogens, say — and so Olive’s parents are glad they’ve finally fed her enough of the stuff to get some marketable visions out of her.

Gil Thorp, 6/19/14

The past six weeks of Gil Thorp have focused relentlessly, and crushingly boringly, on the love affair between Amy and Lucky, and both kids’ inchoate ideas about good and bad luck and how they’re stealing it from each other, and it’s been so super boring that I barely made it through that sentence. Anyway, I just want to point that Gil somehow getting his players SUPER REVVED UP about clawing their way into a tie for second in the conference neatly summarizes the Mudlarks’ usual sports competence.