Among Comic Strip Royalty

Charles, Bill...and Me.

This weekend a bicycle expo was held in the area. One of the exhibitors is a popular bicycle shop called Wheel & Sprocket. And although I am not a cyclist, seeing a promo on television for this event reminded me of my own connection with the bike store.

Some years ago, Wheel & Sprocket sponsored a contest for local artists to submit a comic strip about the bike shop. Contestants vied for a chance to win a $100 gift certificate to the shop, and the winning comic strip would be published on the front page of the Sunday Comic section of largest newspaper in the city.

Now, about this same time, I had a young graphic design instructor who had a very “office professional” appearance and somewhat stiff demeanor. “Wynn”—not his real name—wore nice suits and neckties to every class. His hair was always neatly trimmed and combed. He had sharp facial features, and I personally rarely saw him smile.

If Wynn grasped any correlation between “Design” and “Art”, it did not show. Rather, it seemed that somehow, while earning his degree, he did not learn that many great masters like Michelangelo, Duchamp and Calder crossed-platform between 2- and 3-dimensional art, and lithographs and advertising posters created by Lautrec, Orazi and Max were works of art in themselves. Perhaps he was sick and missed class the day they covered Lichtenstein and Warhol.

Whatever the reason for his thought process, I struggled through two semesters of graphic design with him, not because I was a poor student, but because I had a slightly different view of the world. Wynn could be considered black and white “Wall Street Journal” and I would be classified as colorful “Funny Pages”. I shared my theory of Wynn’s irrational prejudice against the Fine Arts with Brian, one of my classmates, but he was not entirely convinced of Wynn’s alleged attitude against “Art”.

It is said that people may forget the words that were said to them, but they will always remember how it made them feel. I remember how Wynn made me feel and what he said. Near the end of my final semester, in unjustified disdain, he told me: “You have no business being in graphic design. No one will ever hire you.” After class, I cried in my car as I drove the long way home from school.

A few short days after the “Wynn Incident”, an envelope arrived in the mail, announcing my comic strip entry as one of the winners of the contest! Just weeks before graduation, it was a dream-come-true! I was to be published on the front page of the Sunday Funny Paper along with my comic strip idols Charles Schulz the creator of “Peanuts” and Bill Watterson the creator of “Calvin and Hobbes.” No one would hire me, indeed!

The next day, I practically flew to school with new wind beneath my wings, anxious to share this news with my classmates and especially Wynn. As I happily reported on the pending printing of my winning comic strip, one girl inquired what the strip was about. When I described the four-panel sequence, she bitterly remarked that my idea was “offensive to women.” I was stunned. What had seemed like vindication, now seemed like the greatest politically incorrect, social faux pas soon to be published and seen in every household in the city…with my NAME on it! I was just sick at heart.

I’m not exactly sure what my demeanor was when I returned home from school that afternoon, but my Dad sensed something was bothering me. When he inquired how my day at school was, the floodgates opened and the events of the preceding days came gushing from within me. I could feel myself teetering on the edge of tears, and with calm “Father Knows Best” wisdom, Dad responded simply, “They know you are their competition. Don’t let them get to you.” Situation instantly defused.

Never had it occurred to me that my classmates were “competition”. I always viewed them as my peers and equals. Until Wynn, I always believed my teachers were on the same team with me…weren’t they? The same can be said about my view of coworkers and managers.

In my early managerial position, I had interviewed many interns in whose portfolios I recognized Wynn’s assignments. On more than one occasion, upon the mention of his name, applicants confided that Wynn made them cry (all of them women). This behavior was his Modus Operandi, and I began to realize the problem was much bigger and belonged soley to him.

Throughout my career, I have come across many bitter naysayers like Wynn and that female classmate—who is so insignificant now that I don’t remember her face or her name. But both have been proven wrong. The NOW never did march upon my family home to protest my harmless little comic strip. Someone DID hire me, and above all, I have been blest with a wonderfully productive and artistic career in graphic design.

Whether or not any situation is viewed as a competition, there will always be someone trying to outdo, one-up, and distract you from your goals. Don’t let them get to you.

Inspired by Dad’s words…and how they made me feel.

My winning entry in the Wheel & Sprocket Comic Contest.