Who can explain the mysterious alchemy by which this or that New Yorker cartoon becomes an inside family joke, an axiom, so much so that the punchline alone conjures the entire conceit? There’s an old gag about the two superannuated friends who tell each other the same jokes so often that they’ve numbered them—one can say “Number 42!” and be sure of the reply, “That’s a good one.”
We told these cartoons to each other, too many times perhaps, as a way of accentuating our familyhood. And occasionally we told them to outsiders, too. Some are generally famous; others aren’t. Some are remembered from the original magazine issue; some developed their staying power long after publication, through bound collections from decades ago. Here are the ones for my family. What are yours?
• “Gently, sir. It’s Mother’s Day.” (George Price)
• “Sometimes we sell them, lady, but only to other teams.” (Peter Arno)
• “If he’s not a Frenchman he’s certainly an awful snob.” (Saul Steinberg)
• “I say it’s spinach, and I say the hell with it.” (Carl Rose)
• “Watch out, Fred! Here it comes again!” (George Price)
—Martin Schneider