Naked Truths
I’m Dan Piraro, the creator of the Bizarro newspaper comic, and this is my weekly blog post. The large Sunday comic above is mine, as are all of the non-cartoon comments below.
Since January 2018, the Monday-Saturday Bizarro comics have been written and drawn by my comics partner, Wayno. For more fun, check out Wayno’s weekly blog post.
And here’s this week’s ANSWER KEY to my Sunday comic’s Secret Symbols.
If you travel on commercial airlines often enough, you will eventually know despair. But it may also learn some valuable lessons from it.
I’m writing today from my seat on an airplane that my wife and I hope will finally take us home, after three days of being shuttled and shuffled around Mexico by Volaris Airlines. (I wouldn’t have identified them if I thought they were not at fault.)
Though my Sunday cartoon above was submitted six weeks ago, it is almost mystically perfect for our present situation. Like the dog in my comic, we can’t wait to get home and run around the neighborhood naked, but we’ll settle for some clean clothes and our own bed.
***
Last Friday was meant to be the last day of a week’s visit with family in California. We showed up at the airport at dawn for our early morning, nonstop flight home. Though our seats were reserved and paid for many weeks ago, we somehow ended up on the standby list, with no reason or apology given.
Along with a dozen other disappointed travellers, we did not make it onto that flight.
Instead, we stood for the next 90 minutes in a line (that moved no more perceptibly than the moon crosses the sky) before being told there were no other flights available until the next day. And that flight would require a connection.
With no other options, we accepted our fate, then waited in another line for two hours to retrieve our checked bags that also had been rejected from our original flight.
You meet the most interesting and angry people in lines like these, but at least misery loves company.
So instead of being home by late afternoon, we spent the day at the airport, and that night in an airport hotel.
***
We arrived early for Saturday’s flight. It was scheduled to depart just before noon, but early morning fog delayed all flights by a couple of hours. We departed late, and by the time we arrived at our destination for our connecting flight, we’d missed it by 10 minutes.
After another two hours in a line that resembled a tableau of forlorn refugees, “No more flights until tomorrow” was the familiar refrain. We were booked on a flight for the following afternoon, Sunday, then dragged our luggage and ourselves to another airport hotel.
***
The Sunday flight was direct, and though it was also delayed by over an hour, we made it home just after sundown.
Our three dogs and our cat doubtless thought we’d been deported and they’d inherited the house, and were visibly thrilled to have been mistaken. (We’d arranged house/pet sitters for our planned week away, but they had to leave on Friday, hours before we were supposed to be home, so we employed a friend to drop by to feed them each of the three subsequent days.)
The whole ordeal pushed our patience to its limits, but we both maintained just enough self-control to resist taking hostages or swallowing cyanide pills.
***
We admit that while trapped in the airline machine with no recourse or control, we teetered on the brink of despair. The only thing that assured us we’d eventually escape was the absence of skeletons or corpses in the airports.
Once home, we were too tired to run around the neighborhood naked or otherwise. We fed and loved on the pets, then crashed for many hours in our own glorious bed with our own special pillows.
***
I am now finishing this article on Monday afternoon.
In retrospect, this grueling experience highlighted how incredibly cushy and privileged our lives are. I’m ashamed I used the term “refugees” above in a humorous context, when an estimated over 40 million actual refugees worldwide live most of their lives in far worse conditions, with far less control.
We recall that the dozen other disappointed travelers in our standby group that first morning who did not make that flight were low-income Mexicans who had not been placed there by computer error, as we had. They were simply trying to get somewhere for Christmas, but could not afford full-fare tickets. While the only two white folks in the group—my wife and I—were (quietly) indignant about being treated so harshly by the system, our Mexican neighbors accepted their fate stoically and patiently. They are accustomed to having no power or agency—“last in line” is where they spend their entire lives.
My wife and I have befriended numerous Mexicans who have never flown on a commercial airline or visited anywhere farther than a half-tank of gas from home. This is common among low-income Mexicans, but they don’t complain. They place their happiness in their families and friends, not in material possessions or travel trophies. That may sound corny, but it’s true, and we find it inspiring.
It is all too easy for us developed-nation-types to forget that around 80% of the over 8 billion people on this planet have never been on an airplane, much less visited a vacation resort. And compared to the legions of displaced refugees worldwide, what my wife and I experienced over the weekend was but an annoying inconvenience compared to their treatment for months, years, or a lifetime.
Now released from our temporary “nightmare” and safely back home, we both feel a profound sense of gratitude for our cushy lives and our big, goofy dogs and arrogant cat. We also have a renewed sense of responsibility to do more to move toward a kinder, more just planet.
Like Scrooge awakening on Christmas morning, that’s been our holiday gift from Volaris Airlines. (Thanks, you incompetent bastards!)
Enough of the Dickensian moralizing, let’s have a few holiday chuckles at Wayno’s Bizarro cartoons for the week!
As Mrs. Claus well knows, “Santa” is “Satan” spelled sideways.
…and probably be introduced to the secrets of the universe.
He may even get himself a younger girlfriend. Like, maybe one in her sixties.
Answers:
1. Yes. Since the invention of the internet, plagiarism is no longer a crime.
2. Because we’ve worked very hard to keep our identities a secret.
3. Yes. We can draw any kind of nut or legume.
As my children can attest, it’s hard living in the shadow of a superhero.
As you crawl through the desolation of the holiday shopping season, stay hydrated.
We’re off to enjoy the holiday week, Jazz Pickles, and we hope you do, too. Be safe, be friendly, be generous, and be glad you’re not trapped in an airport. If you enjoy that we do this for free each week, please consider helping us keep it that way via any of the links below. We’ll be as happy as a reindeer with a glowing nose.
The Naked Cartoonist…My every-other-week subscription creative writing and comics service.
Bizarro TIP JAR …One-time or repeating. Your choice!
WAYNO’S TIP JAR …One-time or repeating. Your choice!
My (free) graphic novel in progress, PEYOTE COWBOY
Watch my pitch video and become a supporter of Peyote Cowboy here.
Super fun Bizarro swag from ComicsKingdom, including our 2026 Bizarro wall calendar.