The comics page used to be an integral part of my day. It was the page I read first, and even if I didn’t have the time to read the rest of the newspaper, I would read the comics to see what the various characters and critters were up to today.
I would read every strip. I had my favorites, but I didn’t ignore the strips that did not consistently satisfy, because every one hit a mark at one time or another.
Then newspapers fell on hard times, and the page started shrinking — literally — and so did the comics as a result.
Once upon a time, comics could take up two or three pages in a daily newspaper. Each strip would stretch about two-thirds the width of the page, with the rest taken up by puzzles or single-panel cartoons. In a worst-case scenario, there would be a single comics page with two columns of comics top to bottom, which was still fine.
But then, to save money, the papers started shrinking the size of the pages. There are two basic newspaper sizes, broadsheet and tabloid. How much did they shrink? It’s not much of an exaggeration to say today’s broadsheet is only a little bigger than a 1960s tabloid.
At the same time, we all kept getting older. Even with my glasses, it’s harder and harder to read the fine print — or the tiny comics.
A long time ago, my local paper briefly carried a comic strip called “Luann” that I found charming. I was disappointed when they shook up the lineup and it disappeared.
In the early days of the World Wide Web, I discovered you could read “Luann” (and other comics) online. Over the years I added a strip or two — for example, I discovered Joe Staton, a favorite comic book artist, was doing “Dick Tracy,” and I still check in on the legendary detective years after Staton retired.
I still start my day with the comics. I open my laptop and visit nine different strips, a handful of blogs and news sites, and three word puzzles.
If I have the time, I’ll leaf through the daily paper, but I usually just glance at the comics page. I can’t read them comfortably at all anymore. The photo shows Thursday’s “Pearls Before Swine” in the paper and the laptop, for comparison.
I probably sound like a grumpy old man, but this makes me sad rather than angry. My earliest memories of newspapers involve sprawling on the living room floor reading the comics and the baseball box scores in the Newark Evening News.
Don’t get me started on baseball box scores.
