trumpet: Browse The Strips
Thursday, November 13, 1986
Friday, January 23, 1987
Friday, May 15, 1992
Saturday, May 16, 1992
Monday, May 18, 1992
Saturday, October 28, 2006
Friday, December 19, 2008
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Monday, February 8, 2010
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Lynn's Comments: In Lynn Lake, we had Christmas morning to ourselves and after lunch we'd walk over to Ruth and Tom's house for more openings and Christmas dinner. My in-laws always gave us practical gifts, so this strip was just for fun. Nobody gave the kids horns and drums - they were noisy enough as it was. Sitting in their living room surrounded by family and food, paper and presents is an image I'll keep with me forever. What you see in this strip is all of us the way we were at a time when life was perhaps more complicated, but far less stressful. Memories and magic is what Christmas is all about.
Foreign-Language Versions:
If there's a non-English version of this strip available, it'll show up below. Or, you can browse our entire collection on this page.
French Strip:
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Lynn's Comments: Jumping into the future, here, these strips come from our time in Lynn Lake when Alan came to visit. The stories in FBorFW were always a blurry mixture of then and now, of my own childhood then and the lives of my two young children now.
In order to bring reality into the strip, I relied on every memory I had filed away. When I was writing about Michael, I would have to be the same age he was, thinking the way he did and behaving like a child. This is not to say that I ran about the house flailing my arms and refusing to eat cold peas. I would be in a trance, writing, talking to him, being him and talking back. Likewise, I would try and think the way my brother did: a bachelor, being crawled on by kids and expected to know something about family dynamics. Alan loved Aaron and Katie, but he was always keen to burrow into a book or fly the coop when the noise and the chaos got the best of him.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Lynn's Comments: My brother Alan has been playing the trumpet since he was about nine years old. He'd sit on the old blue couch in our folks' living room and, with unyielding dedication, practice until he was exhausted. We all admired his tenacity. Dad was a musician and taught me the guitar - so music was a way of life in our family.
Eventually, Al's musical friends entered the picture. Our basement became a rehearsal hall, the kitchen a roost and the refrigerator emptied faster than a gut full of goose grease (a quote from Dad). Beer was never a staple in our family but it soon became the weekend libation of choice. Though drinking was never a problem, Mom's philosophy was; "If you can't stay sober, stay home!"
Monday, July 18, 2011
Lynn's Comments: When Alan came to visit us in Lynn Lake, he brought his trumpet. He travels with it everywhere and it was great for my kids to be able to hear him practice and to talk about his career.
He and I grew up in a house full of music; something I have missed for a long time. I played 6 and 12 string guitar. Dad also taught me the button accordion! Alan played mandolin and trumpet and, to some extent, Dad played them all. To hear a melody come from an instrument played by someone you know is both healing and inspiring. Healing because no matter what we did to upset each other, the music we played put us into a space where we forgot our differences and became one. Inspiring because the competition between us to play better and to try new things kept both Alan and I close to our instruments and to our dad as well.
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Lynn's Comments: Parents of young children can easily carry on two conversations at once. While showing a toddler that you are there and paying attention to them, you can also listen to and process adult communication. This is not something a non-parent can tolerate and now that I'm well past coddling a toddler, I can't stand it either!
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Lynn's Comments: I did have this conversation with my brother. He had been a musician for much of his life and was beginning to rethink the itinerant nature of his career. He wanted stability and a permanent home. It wasn't long after this that he went back to university and got a teaching degree. He was an excellent teacher.
Friday, April 26, 2013
Lynn's Comments: Alan did encourage Aaron to play the trumpet. He gave him a few private lessons. The trumpet we had belonged to the school and had to be kept in pristine condition. This was one of the many reasons Aaron gave for not wanting to practice.
Monday, April 29, 2013
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Friday, May 3, 2013
Lynn's Comments: Aaron did learn to play a few pieces on the trumpet. Through perseverance and some threatening, his junior high school music teacher succeeded in placing him in the school band, where he suffered along with the rest of the uncommitted until summer came.
Saturday, May 4, 2013
Lynn's Comments: Aaron balked at learning to read music and practicing, but he did love his rented trumpet. With my brother's guidance, he polished the bell, oiled the valves, and cleaned out the tube--which would otherwise fill with fungus, mould, and other odious flotsam (nourished by the moisture and foodstuff propelled by vigorous breath). The instrument itself was a beautiful possession, but it came with the guilt of not practicing.
Friday, May 10, 2013
Lynn's Comments: This reminds me of a story. My friend Christa decided she wanted to learn the saxophone. So as not to disturb her husband one morning, she decided to practice on the back porch. We live in the country, so there were no neighbours to offend. She had just started to honk out some scales when her husband appeared in the doorway excited and out of breath. "Christa!" he cried. "Did you hear that? I think a moose has been hit on the highway!"
Saturday, May 11, 2013
Lynn's Comments: An expression like "play by ear" automatically becomes the basis for a play on words or a gag of some kind. When a punchline like this came to mind, I was elated. A line like this would make a whole week of strips worth drawing.
Monday, July 1, 2013
Lynn's Comments: My friends who were lucky enough to own a piano and get lessons often complained about the torture they suffered having to practice for recitals and such. Years later, with the stress of learning far behind them, they thanked their parents at long last for giving them the gift of music.
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
Lynn's Comments: We all experienced the pain of withdrawal with him.
Friday, September 6, 2013
