Years and years and years ago I used to enjoy the comics in the newspaper.
I was a youngster way back when – I’m so old my blood type has been discontinued – my daily routine began with reading a newspaper.
Back then, newspapers offered two editions: one morning and one evening, each providing unique information on the day’s most recent stories.
I don’t recall if the evening edition included comics, but the morning was chock full o’ amusement.
In any case, this display of levity made me smile as I’m sure it did countless others.
When I reached my 12th birthday and I began contemplating my future endeavor that I quickly realized any potential would likely combine my quirky sense of humor with my enjoyment of art. I could grow up to be a cartoonist. Unfortunately, I had trouble drawing a straight line.
It would be another few years before I began smoking cigarettes that I discovered the solution to my problem: Winky.
Winky was a character of a deer that appeared on matchbooks. Matchbooks were necessary to dispensing matches which were necessary to lighting cigarettes in lieu of a lighter, and they were cheap ways to advertise. It was the advent of the “Draw Winky” campaign.
The time was subsequent to World War II, and the Korean War, when GI’s were leaving service and searching for work. Most smoked, and many lacked marketable skills, hence the cartoon art effort.
Along with Winky, Cuddles, a pirate, Spunky, a GI, a boxer dog, and a clown – no, not joe biden – also appeared on these valuable passports to gainful employment. In retrospect, all now seem pretty easy to draw, but these mail-order art schools made the task seem otherwise without their classes.
Whether this inaugural “distance learning” effort was successful is open to opinion, as there were several, each offering a different character to replicate in order to judge the applicant’s abilities. I’ll bet anyone with a check or money order was instantly qualified.
I never did submit an application because I was preoccupied with sixth-grade, which made my cartoonist career a mere pipe dream. Besides, by the eight-grade I has my sights set on a professional baseball career. But I digress.
But things have changed throughout the years. Newspapers cut back to one edition per day, humor became politically correct, comics evolved into unfunny topical matters, all leading to fewer job opportunities for “matchbook artists.”
In retrospect it appears to be a good thing I didn’t pursue a career in drawing.
Still I wonder if I could have graduated from inking a cute deer to more timely political tripe. Hopefully all my drawing wouldn’t closely resemble a turtle wearing a newsboy cap or a gruff pirate. Unfortunately we’ll never know.
On the other hand, my “plan B” baseball skills excel over those cartoonists that likely need the fresh air.
