Free Novel Read

Blondie Page 2


  Sleeping, eating, working —these are the essential ingredients of Dagwood’s life.

  But man is not destined for lunch-meat love alone. In Dagwood’s case, he’s also fond of sleeping, napping, and resting—the holy triumvirate of male behavior. If his sandwiches are renowned, so is his ability to snore through almost any situation, personal or professional. He’s a champion sofa surfer, a crown prince of couch potatoes, and a king among slouchers.

  Sleeping, eating, working—these are the essential ingredients of Dagwood’s life. Anything else? Yes, the most important thing—family. His children, and especially his wife, are his most important companions and audience.

  “Without them, he would be, in a word, a loser,” says Dean. “Having a wife like Blondie allows him to operate the way he does. She validates his existence.”

  A bumbling, fumbling slacker, with a weird look and weirder tastes (seriously, sardines?), Dagwood would be confined to the back lots of the funny pages were it not for his wife. Not only is she fun to look at, she’s the epitome of class, grace, and decorum—all the things that Dagwood is not. Just as there would be no day without night or salt without pepper, the Dagwood we know and love, the source of so much humor and joy throughout the years, would not exist without Blondie. She defines him in a way that’s more than just circumstantial. She was his choice, and it was the smartest choice he ever made.

  ALEXANDER

  The eldest Bumstead child was born on April 15, 1934, aftera pregnancy so uneventful, it nearly qualified as immaculate. Nicknamed“Babyn Dumpling,” the little boy was the son the Bumsteads always wanted—adorable, outgoing, and quick witha quip. Luckily, he didn’t grow up quickly—his childhood spanned the 1930s to the 70s. After nagging his parentsa lot, he eventually lost the embarrassing appellation. For any child, being publicly known as Baby Dumpling would be kind of like having everyone in the world see your first bathtub pics. His full given name, Alexander, was chosen in honor of Alex Raymond, an early assistant to Chic Young, and the brother of Jim Raymond, who became Chic and Dean’s longtime collaborator.

  Now Alexander has finally graduated to teenager-hood,a condition that’s much more difficult to outgrow. He will likely remain there for as long as there is comic tension to be mined from the relationship between teenagers and their parents—which is to say, forever.

  As a teenager, Alexander is nothing if not normal. He goes to school, plays football and basketball, fights with his sister, slacks off, and above all, remains firm in the conviction that his parents—especially his father—are endless sources of affection, amusement, and cash.(Not necessarily in that order.) But while Dagwood’s bumbling nature has not escaped his son’s notice—how could it?— he hasa lot more in common with his dad than just unruly hair.

  In fact, in many ways, Alexander is a junior Dagwood—albeit with hipper clothing and musical taste. Their shared DNA is most obvious in the kitchen, where Alexander’s appetite and sandwich-making skills may soon grow to rival his dad’s. Well, almost. Only the truly advanced of character can stomach the sardines. Still, watching his son slap together a few(dozen) slices of cold cuts and cheese, smother them with assorted condiments, and stack it all between a hunk(loaf) of bread may be one of Dagwood’s proudest moments.

  And when he’s not busy practicing with his band, denting the car, or asking for cash, Alexander does manage to absorb some lessons in the fatherly arts: snacking, napping, and leisure studies(avoiding chores, TV-watching). Occasionally, he even notices that there is something to be learned from the old man—a realization it takes the rest of us most of adulthood to achieve. Maybe, after all these years, Alexander has really become wiser, sharper, and more mature... nah. He is still his father’s son.

  Blondie and Dagwood’s teenage son. He resembles Dagwood in appearance and appetite, but he seems to be more level-headed and stable. While he is known to roll his eyes at his dad’s ways and his band sometimes plays too loud, he nonetheless makes his parents proud. He is a star athlete on the high school football and basketball teams.

  Alexander is a junior Dagwood—albeit with hipper clothing and musical taste.

  COOKIE

  Like her mother, Cookie is levelheaded, cheerful, and good-looking. Now a spunky teenager, the Bumstead daughter was born on April 11, 1941. More than 430,000 people entered a nationwide contest to come up with her name. The winner was Beatrice Barken, a Cleveland housewife, who received one hundred dollars and lifelong bragging rights.

  With her flippy blonde hair and belly-baring tops, Cookie looks like every post–Britney Spears adolescent girl, but she’s no lightweight. A straight“A” student and a member of the varsity cheerleading squad, Cookie is every bit the pretty, well-liked Big(but small) Woman on Campus; she even hasa blog to prove it.

  Unlike her sloppy brother Alexander, Cookie is always perfectly coiffed, her room always neat and clean, her manners always impeccable. It’sa winning combination that she often uses to sweet-talk her unsuspecting daddy, whose wallet may not survive his children’s teenage years intact.(Especially since, even by today’s long-adolescence standards, these kids have been acting like teenagers for a long, long, long time.)

  Still, the only time Cookie really gives her parents cause to complain is... every night, when the endless parade of inappropriate dates commences. Her suitors have included a tattooed punk,a joker without a watch,a geek, and just about every boy next door.(One guy,a star athlete, did meet with Dad’s approval, which no doubt meant that Cookie couldn’t care less about him.) Given Cookie’s popularity since birth, it’s no surprise that she’s got such a wide appeal, but her father probably wouldn’t mind if his daughter were just a smidge less attractive to the boys she goes out with. While Dagwood waits up, paces, or tags along on his daughter’s dates, Blondie is more secure. She is confident that sooner or later her daughter will make the right choice—just as she did.

  So will Cookie eventually find love with someone like her father?

  “I hope not,” said Dean Young,a father of three daughters. Asa cartoonist, though, he hasa hunch it would make for some potently funny chemistry.

  Blondie and Dagwood’s teenage daughter and younger sister to Alexander. She is fortunate to have her mother’s great looks, not her dad’s disheveled ones. She is an”A” student and a member of the varsity cheerleading squad in high school. More popular than most classmates, she’s a typical teenager in most respects... especially when it comes to boys.

  DAISY

  Amutt, “Heinz 57 variety”—that’s what Dean Young calls Daisy, the Bumsteads’ loyal dog. Rescued from a pound in the early days of the strip, Daisy, with her bright collar, saucer eyes, and oddly blue-gray fur (she would have to be a mutt with that coloring), has remained a comedic mainstay for nearly three-quarters of a century—or almost 525 dog years. Woof!

  The family dog even had a family of her own—she gave birth to a litter of five pups shortly after baby Cookie arrived in the pages of Blondie. Named after a famous Depression-era set of Canadian quintuplets, the Dionne quints, the five pups were a lot of fun. But they were also a handful—not to mention a mouthful to feed—and when newspaper comics shrunk, Dean Young and then-artist Jim Raymond found that configuring six animals in one panel was too much of a zoo. In the 1970s, Daisy’s offspring were phased out, adopted by the Bumsteads’ neighbors.

  Daisy, though, is a constant presence, as a much-loved pet should be. She often appears at the foot of Blondie or Dagwood’s chair, or sprawled in front of the couch, or searching for scraps in the kitchen. In fact, her affinity for two of her owner’s most beloved hobbies—sleeping and eating—and her predilection for getting into trouble (watch out, neighborhood kitties!) has made her not only Dagwood’s best friend but also his canine alter ego.

  This four-legged fur ball can sometimes have more sense than the man of the house. In between her many naps and snacks, Daisy can often be found in the last panel of the strip, reacting to Dagwood’s boundless foibles with a
floppy-eared, quizzical look or a deadpan expression. Her doggy double-takes and I-can’t-believe-he’s-at-it-again pose (paws over her eyes, with just enough room for peeking) have made her one famously animated mutt.

  In fact, as a shrewd witness to what goes on in the Bumstead household, Daisy has become a stand-in for Blondie’s numerous faithful fans, many of whom may also be covering their eyes and thinking I-can’t-believe-he’s-at-it-again. Luckily, Daisy never spoils the gag. Though she does sometimes chew the scenery.

  The family dog and silent commentator on Bumstead family doings. From humble beginnings as a shelter mutt, she has risen to take her place as a beloved member of the family. It is often said that pets share the traits of their owners and she’s no exception -- she eats and sleeps nearly as much as Dagwood. Her signature ”take” on the family is a belly-to the- floor, paws-over-her-face-with-eyes-peeking-out, did-I-hear-that-right pose.

  MR. DITHERS

  In the annals of terrible bosses, there is Genghis Khan—and there is Mr. Julius C. Dithers. A tyrant with a temper to rival a roomful of anger management dropouts, Dithers, founder of the J. C. Dithers Construction Company (whose clients he poached from his former boss—his father-in-law), has been in business for nearly three-quarters of a century. And he’s been fighting with Dagwood for most of them. Blondie cast members make only infrequent use of thought balloons, but if Dithers had one, it would look like this: Driven by greed and a Draconian work ethic (there are no “personal days” at J. C. Dithers Co.), Mr. Dithers runs his office like a dictatorship—a cheap one. His stinginess is as legendary as his tantrums, and his insensitivity would challenge even the most politically correct professional.

  But he’s not all bad. As Dithers would be the first to tell you, he’s got a heart as big as all outdoors. He did outfit his office with Kleenex, for the many occasions on which he makes his employees cry, so he’s not totally devoid of empathy (or political correctness). And at home he’s as meek as a mouse—largely thanks to his wife, Cora Dithers. In the early days of the strip, she wielded her large, pointy umbrella the way a lion tamer would a whip, using it to keep her husband in line. Nowadays she’s fond of the verbal approach, chastising and cutting with a quick turn of phrase. And when Dithers can’t retaliate on the home front, he takes it out on his employees. In the office, at least, he’s master of his domain.

  A short, stout, mustachioed gentleman with a generous gut and a shock of white hair, Dithers bears a suspicious resemblance to J. Bolling Bumstead, Dagwood’s father. Both are angry industrialists who think little of their charges. In fact, Dithers appeared in the strip at about the same time that J. Bolling was phased out, which is no coincidence. “As a comic character, the irascible, rich, old-fogy patriarch is almost unparalleled,” says Dean Young.

  Founder of the J.C. Dithers Construction Company and Dagwood’s irascible boss. A dictator who abuses his employees, verbally and physically, he has ice water in his veins and is certain that the most important quantum in life is the almighty dollar! He is lord and master of all he surveys, with one notable exception. . .his wife! Deep down inside of him, he claims to have a heart that beats and bleeds for all humanity.

  “I think my dad realized that the father was really funny, and he wanted that character back in the strip, so he morphed him into Dithers,” Young recalled. And for a cartoonist, embodying the boss from hell is oddly gratifying.

  Mr. Dithers would definitely make the Hall of Fame for bad bosses.

  “I live for that vitriol, because it goes to the comedic level where everything is heightened to the nth degree,” Young said ruefully. “Dithers makes that job easy because he’s already up there.”

  The comedy in this case is not exaggerated. Everyone has had a terrible boss—an inflexible micromanager whose greatest joy comes from saying no—a demanding autocrat with a weakness for pinching pennies, a superior who acts it. Mr. Dithers would definitely make the Hall of Fame for bad bosses. When it comes to mismanagement, humor is universal and a character like Dithers is recognizable the world over. Take that, Mr. Khan!

  THE WOODLEYS

  Every great hero—or heroine—deserves a sidekick, and Blondie and Dagwood Bumstead are lucky that they’ve each found theirs—Tootsie and Herb Woodley. From the moment they moved in next door in the spring of 1933, the Woodleys and the Bumsteads have been great friends and neighbors. They work together (in Blondie and Tootsie’s case), play together (in Dagwood and Herb’s case), and create mischief together (in everyone’s case). Down to the family pets (the Woodleys have a cat), these two couples are following a parallel suburban path.

  Best pals and business partners, Blondie and Tootsie even look alike—or at least, they both have bodies that most women would kill for. And they outfit them well. Brunette Tootsie and blonde, uh, Blondie spend a lot of time together over coffee at the kitchen table, where they dish about the many misdeeds of their well-meaning guys. In 1991 the ladies went into business together at Blondie’s Catering Shop. Their success is emblematic of their friendship—they’re fair, generous, and savvy. And if managing those lay-about men—and catering to their appetites—gave them a (well-shaped) leg up on the competition, these girlfriends are not likely to admit it.

  As a duo, Herb and Dagwood are “double trouble,” said Dean Young. Though Herb has a bit more money—and a bit less hair—than his buddy, he is in many respects Dagwood’s equal.

  “When they’re together,” says Young, “it’s almost as if there are two Dagwoods out there.”

  Look out world! Whether they’re golfing, bowling, car-pooling, playing poker, fishing, fighting over borrowed tools, or just generally hanging out, these guys cannot help but foul up. Herb is loyal, but not stupid—he knows that Dagwood can sometimes lead him astray (and vice versa). Their relationship is a series of misadventures—but at least they’ve still got those knockout wives to look after them.

  In fact, the Woodleys and the Bumsteads sort of look after each other. Over the years they’ve established the kind of routines—backyard barbeques, dinner parties, and weekend outings—that everlasting friendships are made of.

  Herb is Dagwood’s best friend and next-door neighbor. He finds himself often caught, inexplicably, in the web of Bumstead-inspired plans which have gone astray. He and Dagwood are tuned to the same frequency. Tootsie, Herb’s lovely wife, is Blondie’s best friend and business partner. She and Blondie are able to commiserate together over the zany lifestyles of their husbands.

  MR.BEASLEY

  The Bumsteads’ postal carrier is probably the hardest-working man in comics. Mr. Beasley (full name: Beasley Beasley, same as his brother—Beasley père was one lazy papa) delivers the mail devotedly; neither sleet nor snow nor rain nor threat of full-body collision can deter him. And he takes pride in his job, signing up for such morale-building events as the postal Olympics (where, thanks to Dag-wood’s inadvertent training, he might’ve won a gold medal in tumbling) and performing a polka at The Letter Carrier’s Spring Fling (he is light on his feet). Mainly, though, he brings the Bumsteads their bills, letters, cards, newspapers, and magazines—after he’s finished reading them, of course.

  But even someone as dedicated as Beasley needs to rest, which he does frequently—on the Bumsteads’ couch. And why not? Blondie treats him to some TLC. Though if anyone had cause to “go postal,” it would be Mr. Beasley, who has suffered nearly every indignity known to his profession, from yapping pets (he’s been bitten by dogs, cats, and even a parrot—incidentally the only one of the bunch to apologize), to angry customers, to kids throwing snowballs, to the undeniable terrible certainty that sooner or later . . . wham! Down he’ll go, in a cloud of arms and legs and hair, letters and packages, airmail flying, only to get up, dust himself off, retrieve his mail, and start all over again as Dagwood rushes off, ready to do the same.

  From 1936 when he first meandered slowly—sometimes very slowly—down his route, Beasley has served to slyly reference both our deepest suspicions ab
out the men and women that come into contact with our mail (they must read the postcards, right?) and our best wishes for them—that they can be a part of our family. His bond with the Bumsteads is reminiscent of a quieter period in American life, when we had the time to invite the postman in for a cup of coffee, a slice of pie, and a chat. Now figures like Mr. Beasley may only be able to survive in the pages of the comics, but it’s nice to know that even in this era of electronic missives and digital communiqués, some things are still as constant as the mail.

  The Bumsteads’ friendly neighborhood postman, Mr. Beasley is a familiar face and a crash test dummy. Neither rain nor sleet nor being pummeled by Dagwood’s hasty morning exits will ever keep this mailman from his appointed rounds.

  “Mr. Beasley is probably the hardest-working man in comics; neither sleet nor snow nor rain nor threat of full-body collision can deter him.”

  ELMO

  With Alexander and Cookie firmly ensconced in their teenage years—as mature as they’re going to get—Chic Young turned to Elmo Tuttle to fulfill the role of the playful, inquisitive child. Perpetually five-year-old Elmo lives across the street from Dagwood and Blondie (and Herb and Tootsie, though he doesn’t seem to bother them nearly as much). Clad in an ever-present baseball hat and sporting a wide grin, Elmo’s carefree (and oddly parent-free) days are filled with softball games, hockey games, skateboarding, and general childhood fun. His companion—and occasional nemesis—for much of this? Dagwood Bumstead, or as Elmo refers to him, Mr. B.