HOBARKEN (Corgi Press) — I won’t say that this strip makes me
nostalgic because my Google dictionary tells me that word means a
sentimental longing for the past. Unfortunately, there’s not much
longing going on here for the period in which the quarantine began. For
me, that quarantine never ended. Yes, it is as you’ve imagined: I’ve
been hunched over my drawing table, growing out a beard and collecting
pee in bottles, since March of 2020. Well, when I’m not doing my day job
remotely. For me, a scraggly hobo beard would be unprofessional, but no
one can see me pee in bottles as long as it’s off-camera!
I have a distinct memory of when everything shut down in my area. I
was at the gym, on an upright bike (you know, getting swole), when the
Governor of New York broke into one of those blonde-woman-drinking-wine
morning shows. I’m sure they had just started on their second bottle.
Against the symphony of an elderly man grunting loudly at a cable-rowing
machine, Cuomo revealed he was shutting everything down. Since NY, NJ,
and CT had decided to link their pandemic responses, this meant
something that I didn’t realize then: the end of that gym membership!
I wiped off the bike I was on, changed, and then headed out the exit.
As I left, the front desk attendant and I awkwardly said goodbye to
each other. “I guess I’ll see you when I see you,” I said, and I haven’t