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The Lockhorns, 2/20/21

I sincerely enjoy the presence of non-Lockhorn characters in the Lockhorns, who often seem to have somehow been drawn into Leroy and Loretta’s social orbit, where they never remain for long for obvious reasons. Take the dude standing next to Leroy here: that is a perfectly rendered facial expression for someone who’s just gone on his first outing with someone he thinks might be a new friend and has had a good time watching a movie, only to be hit with “You know who I hate? My wife.”

Shoe, 2/20/21

For all I snipe at the strip, you gotta give props to Shoe for having a consistent aesthetic tone, and that tone can best be described as “bone-deep weariness.” “Thank you, Cosmo,” Trish says out loud in response to this backhanded compliment, but what her eyes and posture say, very clearly, is “I’ve lived a thousand lifetimes and yearn so, so strongly for death.”

Beetle Bailey, 2/20/21

Honestly can’t decide if the proper response to this one is “Finally, the media reputation the narcoleptic community has yearned for” or “Beetle Bailey: Asexual Icon.”

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The Lockhorns, 2/13/21

Based on their relatively modest tract home and Leroy’s rail commute and his Jets and Mets fandom, I’ve long assumed that the Lockhorns was an inhabitant of Long Island. However, today’s panel makes me think that perhaps they actually live in the part of New Jersey just across the river from Manhattan, as the Garden State is one of the few that have statewide elections in odd-numbered years; they could also live in New York City itself, which is gearing up for a mayoral campaign this year, although their suburban lifestyle woud only make this likely if they lived on Staten Island or maybe in outermost Queens. Anyway, the best thing going on here is that Loretta has made the mailman stand in the doorway while she assesses her mail in terms of what it means for her marriage, and his numb, resigned facial expression tells us that this is definitely not the first time this has happened.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 2/13/21

“What do you think the answer to that question is?” is a stereotypical bit of therapist-speak because much of the point of talk therapy is to get the patient to really self-reflect and understand their own mind and emotional state. I feel like when you’re a nutritionist, though, your job is really to just deliver straightforward information about what patients should and shouldn’t do? Just tell him not to eat an entire 1,600 calorie fast food meal in one sitting, lady! That’s what he’s paying you for!

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The Lockhorns, 2/10/21

Leroy has traditionally commuted to work by train, but it looks like he’s managed to make friends the acquaintance of some coworkers and weaseled his way into a carpool. I guess he thought that, unlike his experience on public transit, in a carpool he’d get a response when just threw out some unprompted ruminations about how depressing his marriage/life is? Based on how studiously that guy is looking at his phone, I’m going to have to say he’s wrong on that point.

Hi and Lois, 2/10/21

What really makes this strip for me is that Goldie does in fact look extremely depressed. This isn’t a typical joke about a little kid’s boundless empathy overestimating an animal’s unhappiness; nope, Trixie is like “wow, our goldfish never gets to go anywhere!” and the goldfish’s face absolutely confirms that it’s stuck in a hell-prison and hates every minute of it.

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 2/10/21

I’m not sure what about Jughaid’s statement reflects more misplaced optimism: that he thinks Hootin’ Holler’s economy will improve in the next eight years to the extent that it will be able support a movie theater, that the movie theater business will even still be around in eight years, or that, as someone living in an impoverished community where malnutrition and clan violence are endemic, he’ll survive to adulthood.