Make Mine Mike

A family trip to Paris a few years ago turned into a solo one for me. My mother had had a stroke a month beforehand. Everyone else was able to cancel their flights, but mine was non-refundable. So was the place we rented on St. Germain Boulevard. Mom was getting a little better; everyone said I shouldn't let the trip go to waste, so I went.

I know, poor Mikey... had to go to Paris by himself. Boo friggin' hoo. It was bittersweet, though. I was worrying about my mom the whole time, and not really in the mood to soak up the romantic atmosphere the City of Lights had to offer.

Still, I had a nice time. I had studied French for a while, trying my best not to be the ugly American who doesn't know his droit from his gauche. And at the Musée D’Orsay, I ran into a friend I hadn't seen since college in New York, and we were both living in LA. Had to go 6,000 miles to run into each other.

Once again, my cartoon has inside family jokes (A policeman had come to my sister's kindergarten class, advising the kids not to talk to strangers. Strangers can be dangerous. Stay away from strangers. My 5-year-old sister raised her hand and said, "What's a stranger?" Yeah, she was cute, once.), bad jokes (Les Egouts -- even in Paris, the sewers could be considered a romantic tourist destination), and jokes too small to read (click on the cartoons to enlarge 'em): "Fries, Toast, and Other French Things", "How to Speak Through Your Nose" , "Guide to Dry Wines and Stinky Cheeses", "Je Ne Sais Quoi, ou Qui, ou Quand, ou Por Quoi..."

But, hey -- it's in color!