The ancient art of satire and the art of cartooning can so effectively catch us off guard and make us laugh at ourselves. In the same way that you might learn more about someone when you discover what their favorite books are, or their favorite bands, or their favorite places to travel–the comics and cartoons they enjoy also reveal personality quirks.

I started out reading comics in the Sunday newspapers. The funny pages, as we called them, had a lot of uses: we’d press Silly Putty onto the colored pages to lift off imprints, we made hats out of the festive pages, and we used the Sunday comics as wrapping paper. Mom and Dad posted comics on the fridge:

If I had some extra money, I’d buy comic books:

I really liked Charlie Brown.

When I was a pre-teen obsessed with cute things, I collected the love is comics.

My university had a funny cartoonist, Paul Catanese. His comic strip, “Bedlam Hall”, branded all of us as last-minute crammers who couldn’t hold our liquor and couldn’t stand the dorm food. But we all thought ducks were cute. Here’s one:

It says: First square: Engineering nerd with glasses: “Snake sent me here. He says I’m too naive.” Dude with a goatee says: “We can fix that…Dregs will demonstrate how to use a bong.” Second square: Dregs is smoking a bong while the others watch. Third square: Dregs is starting to lift off. Fourth square: “Of course, a hit like that takes years of practice…”

My kids liked Calvin and Hobbes: Here’s one about how much Calvin hates everybody: “My parents are the two stupidest people on Earth.” “Just my luck they’d get married and have me.” “I hate everybody.” “I don’t see how anyone could ever fall in love. People are jerks.” Hobbes chimes in: “Sometimes they are, but look at all the colors on the trees today.” Calvin still grumbles: “Yeah? So what.” Hobbes: “I think it’s more fun to see something like this with someone than just by yourself.” Calvin thinks. “I guessss so…but I’d still rather see this with a tiger than a person.” Hobbes: “Well, that goes without saying.”

And, my kids liked Garfield:

It says: “Check out that cute girl over there!” Garfield warns: “And check out her big boyfriend returning with ice cream.” John returns with the ice cream cones plastered onto his chest: “Actually, it’s kind of refreshing.”

I have some old comics still on the fridge:

The commiseration: “I, too, am disappointed. But perhaps the joy was in the journey.”    (F-Minus/Tony Carillo)  I suppose you only like this cartoon if you grew up playing on playgrounds.

There’s another one on my fridge, by Tony Carillo, that I posted above a picture of my son, (the drummer and multi-talented musician), and my daughter, (the piano and guitar player who likes to sing):

It says: “Although your baby is quite healthy, our preliminary tests indicate that the child was…born to rock.” And the doctor looks really grouchy, like music department teachers look when they find out kids would rather devote their physical and mental efforts to rocking and rolling instead of playing in the marching/pep band for the football team.

And, just yesterday, I found a funny cartoon worthy of the fridge, which doesn’t happen often.  (Bizzarro by Dan Piraro) It’s a couple of cowboys riding through the Old West and one is riding a donkey piñata.

Then, today, I found another cartoon to keep. This one will be posted in our barn. It’s Doonesbury (part of a series saga, but this little excerpt works fine for us on its own):

Hippie Mom and Dad huddled together near a fire hose: Square one, Dad says: “Everything under control, Inspector?” Fireman answers: “Seems to be, you folks okay?” Square two: Dad: “Well, we’re understandably shook up. Any idea what caused the blaze?” Inspector: “Yeah. It started in the barn…” Square three: Inspector: “Looks like it was caused by a burning cigarette. My guess is it was a marijuana joint.” Square four: Dad: “Hear that, Honey? It was those damn kids!” The inspector advises: “You should have kept it locked. That’s what I do.”

I found this cartoon in the New Yorker the year my son was accepted at Bard College. I couldn’t believe it. We delivered him to Bard in our motorhome–where he’d spent all the years of his youth traveling throughout the northeast. It’s a drawing of a boy with a Bard sweatshirt meeting another boy who says to him: “I was motor-home-schooled.”

Here’s one my son drew when he was little. I think it’s about me.

Boy watching TV, Mom nags him: “That stuff’s boring! How do you watch it?” And, later, when Mom is gone, he is free and happy to watch, un-assaulted, whatever boring stuff he wants to watch: “Today…on, A Napkin’s Life Cycle…”

Here’s one of my son’s later creations, fifth grade. His characters Lizardo and Dude:

And lastly, here’s a little cartoon, which is a refrigerator magnet. I bought it in Acadia National Park last fall. I guess this represents something that is always on the minds of those of us who wish the people of the world would learn to stop harming each other with such useless violence.