While burrowing through old photographs yesterday, I stumbled onto something I thought was lost forever--the clippings, cartoons and notes from my 1980's refrigerator, a wealth of wisdom and wonder.
I had recently moved to Wisconsin and loved reading small town blurbs in the local newspaper, especially the more colorful ones. To those I added clipped New Yorker cartoons that had special appeal, including several from Roz Chast and a treasured one from Michael Maslin (husband to fellow New Yorker cartoonist liza Donnelly), and some commentary.
All those years ago, I was curating my own cover--on the front of an old white refrigerator in a little blue farmhouse kitchen in Wisconsin.
This delightful Roz Chast New Yorker cover from June 1, 1987:
From the pages of the Wausau Daily Herald, Wausau, Wisconsin:
Tiny, hairy creatures seen near Stratford
A "little people" sighting about two miles southwest of Stratford was reported to the Marathon County Sheriff's Department at 2:44 a.m. today.
The anonymous caller said he saw a glowing green light across the road at Staadt and Eau Pleine roads at the McMillan-Eau Plaine town line, got out of his car, saw two eyes, and then saw little people.
The people were about 2 1/2 feet tall, with hair on their faces, wearing blue clothing and shiny belt buckles, and they were very fast, the caller said.
Deputies didn't find any of the mysterious creatures or any signs that they had been in the area.
Those lightning gnomes can be sneaky.
Ex-farmhand arrested on bestiality charge
A 25-year-old Wausau man has been arrested in connection with having sexual misconduct with cost at a farm.
The arrest was made by the Marathon County Sheriff's Department. The man's case will be scheduled for a court appearance.
The alleged incidents occurred in 1982 at a farm owned by a Wausau man.
The farmer told sheriff's detectives that he suspected a former employee in the incidents after a farm worker saw the former employee running naked from the barn. Upon investigation, they found bales of hay arranged behind some cows.
That's why he's an ex-farmhand.
From the pages of The New Yorker:
NO COMMENT DEPARTMENT [Bulletin from the Office of Technology Assessment, Washington, D.C.]
In the period following a nuclear attack, conditions could get worse before they started to get better.
(and stapled to that):
A THOUGHT FOR THIS WEEK [From Research & Development]
A GLOBAL CONFLICT WOULD SERIOUSLY AFFECT OUT LIFE-STYLE.
One of my favorite New Yorker cartoons of all time, from the pen of Michael Maslin (published November 9, 1987):
"If we have inconvenienced you by neglecting to fork-split your English muffin this morning, we are truly, truly sorry."
OAK PARK ---This is to commend Dr. Allan D. Klenetsky, an outstanding Oak Park oral surgeon. Following an accident, I was taken to his office. I was given immediate attention and treated with skill and kindness. I asked that he have a taxi ordered to bring me home. He then announced that he would drive me home. He took me home, up two flights of stairs and into my apartment.
I am still under his car, and am deeply indebted and grateful to a fine doctor and beautiful person.---Letter to the editor in the Oak Park (Ill.) Oak Leaves.
If not a very good driver.
From New Yorker cartoonist Charles Barsotti, published in the May 11, 1987, issue:

"I'm back. Move."
(All clippings taken from the Wausau (WI) Daily Herald and The New Yorker magazine during the 1980's. Copies of New Yorker cartoons are available at cartoonbank. )


Salon.com
Comments
That's because they're very sneaky and they leave no trace!
This is making me wish that I had all of the things that my roommate and I put on the outside of the door of our dorm room in our freshman year. We took great pride in finding the most outrageous things for our display.
Sometimes the real news--OMG, the story about the guy and cows and stacked hay bales did me in..."sexual misconduct with cows"--is funnier than anything mortals can dream up. Thanks for posting these.
R~
Thats like or a kin to RAPE. It was personal since my day recently died.
Burgess Dillard
07/14/2010
Its shit like this that makes me bitter !
You betcha.
It's just not the same.
My favorite clipping from The New Yorker (which lived on my fridge until it died a tattered death) was a restaurant review from some obscure small-town paper, describing the "leper-skin booths." The New Yorker had written underneath: We'll wear long pants.