I admit it.  I’ve been pretty much out of the loop on a lot of stuff lately.  I once prided myself in keeping abreast of the news.  I’m not just talking about major political stories, either.  I like to be aware of what’s going on in the world of pop culture, too.  Lately, I’ve simply been too busy to notice a lot of what’s happening in that arena.  Consequently, you can imagine my shock when I realized my favorite girl reporter, Brenda Starr, resigned from her long-standing employer, The Flash, and will no longer grace my paper with her beauty, self-confidence, and romantic exploits.  This past Sunday marked the last appearance of the “Brenda Starr” comic strip, and I’m crushed.

When I read Sunday’s comics, I wondered if the strip was concluding its 70 (!) year run.  There was a real finality to the story, and at the bottom right side of the final panel were the words “The End”.  I asked my wife, who unfortunately does not share my devotion to the intrepid redhead, whether she had heard if “Brenda Starr” was ceasing publication.  With very little empathy for my concern, she coldly told me that she had no idea and couldn’t care less.  Being an optimist by nature, I pushed the gloomy prospect aside and quickly forgot about it.  Then, just a few minutes ago, reality struck with a brutal vengeance.  Today, for the first time since Sunday, I took a look at the Chicago Tribune’s comics page, and BRENDA STARR WAS GONE!

I’m not exactly certain when it happened, but I fell in love with Brenda sometime during the mid to late 1980’s.  At the time, she had just reunited with her long-time love, the mysterious Basil St. John.  Although he was the love of her life, and she his, their romance was always a doomed one.  Basil, you see, suffered from a rare disease that periodically sent him into irrepressible bouts of depression and mental illness.  He could manage his malady with the aid of serum produced from the nectar of the rare black orchid, but that flower’s rarity was a curse that could not be overcome. 

Living with Basil meant Brenda must be far from her entire raison d’etre, covering a world of glamour and dangerous adventure for her newspaper.  Brenda, you see, was a career woman first, and love always played second fiddle to her profession.  Of course, that devotion to her job was not entirely noble.  It provided a convenient escape from real commitment to another human being.  In that, Brenda was a reflection of every career-minded individual regardless of gender.  She desired career and love, but was never able to achieve both.  When, like Brenda’s marriage to Basil, over 50% of first marriages end in divorce, one can easily infer that Brenda Starr was an appropriate symbol for the modern, two career household.

But Brenda Starr reflected much more than just the travails of modern romance.  The stories she covered reflected the hot stories of the real world.  In 2009, Brenda was sent to India where she witnessed that country’s rapid growth into a new world power, replete with all the corruption and occasional nobility such a transformation creates.  Brenda only barely escaped alive from India.  Will America’s place in the world be likewise saved?

In another storyline from a few years ago, Brenda was assigned to cover a new Internet media sensation named Rat Sludge.  Brenda soon realized Rat did not bother with common journalistic devices such as fact-checking and dual sourcing.  It took little imagination to conclude that Rat’s presence was ominous for the future of Brenda’s profession, and we see the results of that dire development every day.  Case in point:  The Tribune Company, the same company that introduced the “Brenda Starr” comic strip in 1940, filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection not long after the conclusion of the Rat Sludge storyline.

Brenda Starr debuted in 1940, when the world was on the brink of a new Götterdämerung.    With Europe and East Asia in flames, Washington was secretly planning America’s mobilization for total war.  The nation’s men would soon be overseas, leaving their jobs to be filled by the women they left behind.  With news reporters clamoring for assignments covering the war, who would be left to cover the relatively mundane stories on the home front?  Enter a beautiful young woman named Brenda Starr.  She was naïve and romantic, but she was also strong and determined.  And she was beautiful.  She was the iconic American woman.  She and her American sisters would ensure the nation supported its fighting men.  She and her American sisters would ensure that America’s industrial might would not falter.  And she and her American sisters would love their men and welcome them home when the fighting came to an end.

Oh, I’m going to miss Brenda Starr.  I’m going to miss that unique twinkle in her eyes.

I’m going to miss her changing hair styles that always reflected the fashion of the day.

I’m going to miss her romantic exploits.

And I will most certainly miss her cleavage.

Oh Brenda, are you really gone?