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Apartment 3-G, 2/22/05

Mary Worth, 2/22/05

So, you know, one should separate work from play and all that, but, as it turns out, there’s a wireless network I can hook onto from my condo here in Bermuda (thanks “blackfalcon,” whoever you are), and I had already brought my laptop for other reasons, and, well, OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD ANNA IS INFERTILE AND MARGO IS INVOLVED IN SOME SORT OF BABY-SELLING SCAM HOLY CRAP! and so I really felt like I should say something.

Of course, Mim could just give her baby to Anna and Dr. Brian — problem solved! Also, maybe it’s just me, but the whole “do ya think one of my virile little sperm successfully fertilized your succulent, feminine egg last night?” discussion doesn’t seem particularly romantic. Or sexy. Or even pleasant. The woman sitting behind them feels the same way, I think.

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Holy crap, a guy can’t get out of town for two days without all hell breaking loose on the comics pages. There’s way too much going on to leave unremarked until I get back from Bermuda, so here’s the wrap-up.

Mary Worth, 2/20–21/05

OK, so Dr. Brian was apparently wracked by so much pent-up lust after being constantly interrupted in his two-week quest to pop the question to Anna that, once he finally managed to spit it out, they flew directly to Vegas, checked into whatever sordid, jaundice-walled hotel is across the street from “Plaza,” got hitched, and then headed for their lumpy, overstarched nuptial bed the very next day. This is without doubt the fastest that anything has happened in Mary Worth, though the fact that they’re flying back home in the next day’s strip may indicate that something else happened a little too fast, too. (OK, that’s a cheap shot, but I have to work out my anger about the loathsome “bedside manner” foreplay talk somehow.) Anyway, Monday’s strip features some Mark Trail-style talking scenery and what appears to be the traditional post-coital arm-wrestling match.

Apartment 3-G, 2/18/05, 2/20–21/05

Meanwhile, in Apartment 3-G, not only does Tommie get two panels all to herself, but we also learn an important truth: good mothers are involved in their teenage daughters’ roadside activities, while bad ones live in vans in other people’s driveways. I can’t wait to find out what particular set of van-focused scriptures Mim’s mom uses as her guide to life. This sequence also features two classic Margo assertions: that parking-poor Manhattan is thankfully impervious to Lu Ann’s sister’s peculiar brand of driveway-based spirituality, and that being nice to people is really, really hard, especially when you have to give up your couch to do it. You can see that the effort involved in showing compassion is so great that it’s making her eyes point in different directions.

And, finally, over in Mark Trail…

Mark Trail, 2/18/05

“What you said is wrong! I dispute what you said! My lawyers will force you to show some sort of what-you-said evidence! Damn you, Trail!”

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Mary Worth, 2/13/05

Now, I know what you’ve been thinking: “Apartment 3-G and Mark Trail are all well and good, but what really packs ’em in the seats is Mary Worth. So where’s she been, huh?” Well, while Mark’s been battling sharks and drug runners, and Apartment 3-G has been all pregnant high schoolers and white slavery, exactly nothing of any even remote interest has been happening in the excruciating slow-motion romance of Anna and Dr. Brian. After something like ten weeks of cow eyes and Richard Bach quotes, at the beginning of February things finally seemed to be looking up when Brian’s high-powered lawyer ex-wife declared her intention to win his love back by any means necessary. However, her efforts fizzled in less than a week (which in Mary Worth chronology is an increment of time so brief that it can only be measured by the most precise atomic clocks) when Brian reminded her that they got divorced because they didn’t get along and had different interests. I’m glad she’s not my lawyer. (“And isn’t true that you lied about seeing my client at the crime scene?” “Objection, your honor!” “Oh, never mind, he’s guilty anyway.”) Then, as Dr. Brian said his final good-bye to his ex, they engaged in a brief, post-marital hug, which Anna spied; this raised the spectre of that least exciting of romantic complications, the Big Misunderstanding. However, after another brief week, Anna had bought her beau’s explanation, and horrid, treacly bliss was restored. Unless Brian’s ex is lurking back at his place with a gun, it looks like smooth sailing until the wedding, which should take place sometime in 2009.

A couple of artistic notes: We all know about Anna’s chameleon-like nature, but the woman in the rightmost panel in the second row is not the same woman who’s in the other panels of this strip. That version of Anna seems to be thinking: “The collagen injections into my lips didn’t go so well, but I’m not sure how to react.” Meanwhile, “happy” isn’t how I would describe the good doctor’s expression in the leftmost panel of the bottom row. I believe the word that Anna is looking for is “smug.”