THE WONDERFUL WORLD OF BIL KEANE

Bil Keane doesn't feel he has to make a hell of this world to enjoy paradise in the next. In fact, he enjoys his world here so much that he shares it daily with millions of others through his newspaper cartoons, The Family Circus and Channel Chuckles.

Keane's immediate world is bounded by a patch of desert in the town of Paradise Valley, an enclave of independent-minded folks surrounded by Phoenix and Scottsdale who are content with the arid valleys and mountains of the Southwest the way time and tempest have carved them and don't feel compelled to improve matters by laying down wall-to-wall grass. On his piece of desert complete with cactus, scorpions and caliche he has a swimming pool surrounded by a house. Most of the year, Keane and his wife, Thelma, their five children, and the dog, Chuckles, live out of the house and in the swimming pool. This style of living may be considered weird for most places, but the Keane family of Paradise Valley is so normal it could drive a beatnik wild enough to take a bath. To the great unwashed the Keane family may be square, but to well over 50 million readers it is a three ring circus.

The Keane cartoons, especially The Family Circus, have become the day's bright spot in such places as England, Finland, Norway, the Philippines, Scotland, Germany, Portugal and Australia. (Publishing a daily panel down-under has forced Keane to work both ends of the calendar at the same time. Gags about the kids standing in puddles of melting snow on Mommy's best rug go to Australia in July.) In the United States and Canada, the family cartoon is carried in more than 200 newspapers and draws more than 20,000 letters each year. A bonus panel for the kids tacked on to the Sunday Family Circus, a set of illustrated puns entitled Side Show, receives around 75,000 suggestions yearly, some Keane's own returned to him for a second run. Channel Chuckles, a daily grin at television in its twelfth year, appears in 120 newspapers.

It is The Family Circus, though, that has captured both the public's and Keane's fancy. Drawn with the format of a circle, the cartoon deals with the day-to-day happenings of an ordinary American family consisting of, not surprisingly, a Mommy and a Daddy, four small children, Billy, the eldest, Dolly with a pony tail, Jeffy, who thinks Billy is pretty old, and P. J., the latest addition and the entire family's baby. Rounding out the group is Barfy, the dog. None of the family is kookie or unusual, including the dog.

Side How

Why then do so many millions of people enjoy sharing in something so commonplace, something they themselves live with each day? Isn't it the exotic, the adventuresome, the different with which people like to live vicariously? Surely, Keane agrees, but he also believes that many people, despite the growing head count at the psychiatrists, enjoy themselves, and that is what they see in The Family Circus. But don't take Bil Keane's word for it. Let some of his readers speak for themselves. His readers are friendly and outspoken: "You're peeking! It's absolutely uncanny the way your Family Circus knows what my family is doing." "It has caused more living reminiscences in our family than has anything else." "We are not alone, after all." "I may be a bachelor, but that doesn't stop me from being an imaginative uncle." "The Family Circus is a wonderful morale booster for us teachers. A quick glance before school is all we need to make our day brighter." "I cannot express the feelings your little characters give me. You put such cute expressions on their faces." "The parents of your family never suffer a loss of dignity in their funniness." "It is refreshing in a sordid world." "I feel that many of my clients, who have parent-child problems, can gain some knowledge from The Family Circus." (And who dares say the public is stupid? Not Bil Keane's.) The Lovable Cartoon Children of the Family Circus are obviously Patterned After Keane's RealLife Family When They Were of Similar Age.

Bil Keane

PHOTOGRAPHS BY HERB AND DOROTHY MCLAUGHLIN Two reasons for Bil Keane's popularity stands out from the letters of his admirers. One is that they find the antics of his cartoon family a pleasant relief from the encroachments of a none-too-pleasant world. Keane is happy that some, perhaps many, of his readers find refuge in his daily reporting of his "other family," but that certainly was not the reason he created it, nor why he continues drawing it. First of all, Keane feels there simply is too much concern with or emphasis on "so-called problems," that a lot of people (some are paid to do it in the same newspapers in which his cartoons appear) spend too much time creating monsters. Secondly, Keane was born an optimist, meaning that he has always been too busy working and enjoying his work to believe that the world outside his own is as bad as the gloom-and-doomers keep saying it. He finds the world good! The other reason, according to the letters, that so many people take to his cartoons is that they see something wonderfully amusing through the eyes of Bil Keane in situations that have grown stale to them with familiarity. They don't know why, most of them, but the very things which can throw them into a funk within their own family circle appear warmly entertaining when they happen in The Family Circus. They can't be blamed for recognizing what Keane does to them, because what he pulls off is a very delicate operation. Nathaniel Howthorne, a sober New England author, of all people, put his pen point on it when he wrote: "A stale article, if you dip it in a good, warm, sunny smile, will go off better than a fresh one that you've scowled upon." That's Bil Keane's cartoon magic a good, warm, sunny smile. But how does one explain such a fragile thing as a smile? The answer is that one doesn't. The best that can be done is to let Bil Keane talk about his own particular smile, the one he puts into The Family Circus for others to take out. "There's a general tendency among people who want to be funny to exaggerate. I do just the opposite. I tone down every idea I get. Take the situation of children making a mess of things trying to be helpful. The usual way of presenting a cartoon of this would be to have the kid slapping red paint all over the place while the old man is trying to paint it white. When I did a panel on the situation, I simply had Dolly and Jeffy fixing their own dry cereal, a good part of the milk, sugar and cereal spilling on the table and floor. That's about as normal or common example of children's good intentions gone askew as you can have." And he's right, too!

What Keane failed to mention is the elusive quality that made that particular cartoon amusing. It is in the art work, the presentation, the eager innocence on the faces of the children juxtaposed against the painful patience of Mommy caught with a demanding baby in her arms.

"I also keep my drawing style simple," Keane continues, "only the lines necessary. I don't mean it's bare or schematic. Each cartoon must have life; it should be current and fresh. For instance, the house, the neighborhood, the trappings, the paraphernalia are kept up to date. That's why I keep this Sears-Roebuck catalog handy."

Those things are the mechanics of his craft, certainly essential elements, but hardly the key to Keane's success.

"I suppose everybody has his own ideas about what constitutes talent," Keane says. "To me, my talent is the ability I have to put in the hours of work and to enjoy every minute. Even if I couldn't make a living drawing, I'd still be doing it. The simple truth is I get as much kick out of my cartoons as the readers indicate they do."

That kick Keane spoke of is really a gentle tweak. He doesn't try for the guffaw or the belly-buster. In extremis, he might go for the chuckle, but he's perfectly satisfied with a lingering smile that makes the eyes brighten with an inner warmth.

THE FAMILY CIRCUS By Bil Keane

"Why CAN'T you play cards with us, Mommy? Grandma always does."

"I like all kinds of humor," Keane says, "All except the kind that tries to be funny at someone else's expense. The most durable humor, I feel, comes from the things we can identify with. I don't think any of us really ever gets tired of looking at ourselves. But it's the insight in that look that is the key."

In short, kindness and understanding!

A famous literary figure celebrated for his witty insight agrees. George Bernard Shaw put it this way: "My way of joking is telling the truth. That is the funniest joke in the world." Both Keane and Shaw probe at the truth, but whereas Shaw used a rapier, Keane needs only a pair of tweezers.

No Peter Pan sprinkled Bil Keane with fairy dust to give him the youthful freshness to continue seeing into the delights and dilemmas of the world's most universal experience rearing children. It took Keane a long time to come by that vision and to be able to translate it onto paper, just about as long as he can remember.

He was born in 1922 on the outskirts of Philadelphia, and when a small boy he began drawing, in those days copying his favorite comic strip characters. Although he had an older and younger brother and a younger sister and those were days without nearly the conveniences of today, his mother found time to encourage him. "And," he says, "that is a wonderful thing, to get encouragement from your parents." Incidentally, Bil never has to worry about running out of ideas, not that his own children don't keep him well supplied. But just in case, his older brother, Bob, who took over their father's metal business in Philadelphia, has ten of them, which he is raising as a bachelor father, due to the recent death of their mother.

By the time Keane was in Northeast Catholic High School in Philadelphia, he was publishing cartoons in

CHANNEL CHUCKLES

"You go on to bed, Dear, I'll be in as soon as Johnny Carson is over."

the school magazine, a practice he recommends for any aspiring cartoonist. Graduating in 1940 and unable to go to college, he became an errand boy at the Philadelphia Bulletin newspaper, and from that time printer's ink was in his blood, blacking out the other ambition he had to be a comedian.

It was in the Army, though, that Keane got a real chance to develop. He worked with Yank magazine, and then went out to Australia with the famed First Cavalry Division, where, contrary to all the jokes, the Army utilized his talents and put him to work doing promotion cartoons for Savings Bonds and G.I. Insurance. When the war ended, Keane was a staff member of the Army newspaper, Stars and Stripes, and in Tokyo he published his first daily cartoon "At Ease With The Japanese."

His tour with the Army in the Pacific also played another important role in his life. He met a pretty and shapely dark-haired girl named Thelma Carne in Brisbane, Australia, and he never forgot her. When back at the Bulletin and now in the art department, Keane waged a courtship campaign by mail half-way round the world, and in 1948 Miss Carne became Mrs. Bil Keane, and eventually the Mommy of The Family Circus also of the five young Keanes. Bil makes no effort to disguise that Thel is the mother of the cartoon family. In fact, the similarity is so pronounced that Mrs. Keane has been recognized for "Mommy" on the street and in stores.

While with the Bulletin, Keane did a home-town cartoon called "Silly Philly," and in 1954 he launched Channel Chuckles, the durable, wry look at TV. Even though he didn't get The Family Circus off the drawing board and into syndication until 1960, Keane feels that its history goes back to 1952, when free-lancing to such magazines as This Week and The Saturday Evening Post. Gayle, the eldest of the children, was just a tot, and he worked up a cartoon called "Christmas Toys," a group of drawings of a small child beating on an old pan while the new drum lay nearby, and so on. Keane admits there was nothing special in the idea. But there must have been something added in its presentation, because the cartoon was snapped up eagerly. And as he went on free-lancing to national magazines, and Thel had more children Neal, now 14, Glen, 12, Chris, 9, and Jeff, 8 he grew aware that the cartoon editors were most enthusiastic about dealt with family life. By 1959, the pattern for the cartoon had emerged and the technique perfected. So, following years of reading ARIZONA HIGHWAYS magazine and paying a visit to Phoenix, Bil and Thel sold everything they couldn't put into suitcases, and they and the children flew to Paradise Valley and their new home. (Keane strongly recommends this method for moving to Arizona's Valley of the Sun: "The living out here is so different you might as well start from scratch.") Channel Chuckles, the durable, wry look at TV. Even though he didn't get The Family Circus off the drawing board and into syndication until 1960, Keane feels that its history goes back to 1952, when free-lancing to such magazines as This Week and The Saturday Evening Post. Gayle, the eldest of the children, was just a tot, and he worked up a cartoon called "Christmas Toys," a group of drawings of a small child beating on an old pan while the new drum lay nearby, and so on. Keane admits there was nothing special in the idea. But there must have been something added in its presentation, because the cartoon was snapped up eagerly. And as he went on free-lancing to national magazines, and Thel had more children Neal, now 14, Glen, 12, Chris, 9, and Jeff, 8 he grew aware that the cartoon editors were most enthusiastic about dealt with family life. By 1959, the pattern for the cartoon had emerged and the technique perfected. So, following years of reading ARIZONA HIGHWAYS magazine and paying a visit to Phoenix, Bil and Thel sold everything they couldn't put into suitcases, and they and the children flew to Paradise Valley and their new home. (Keane strongly recommends this method for moving to Arizona's Valley of the Sun: "The living out here is so different you might as well start from scratch.") In February 29, 1960, The Family Circus was born. The date is significant, because it points up another unusual feature of the cartoon. Although it appears merely as a single panel, there is development and continuity to the family's activities. Each panel is built around a separate "gag," but the situation depicted fits into the scheme of things. As an example, one of the more popular series of panels dealt with the before, during and after of the family's summer vacation camping tour. Also, the members of the family develop, albeit almost imperceptibly. It is a leap-year family, and every four years it ages one year. In 1960 there were only Billy, Dolly, and Jeffy. In 1962 the baby, P.J., was born and will be one year old this August. "I don't have to worry about my kids moving out on me," Keane says with a satisfied grin.

Although his own children were the prototypes for The Family Circus kids, Keane doesn't feel that way about them, at all. "I pity those parents who are afraid to see their children grow up," Keane comments. "I look forward to our children's development the new aspects of their characters, the new friends and interests. It helps Thel and me keep young watching them grow, both outside and inside."

The Keane's don't subscribe to any theories on child rearing, except possibly that the more fashionable the theory the more tragi-comic it becomes. This doesn't indicate, however, that the Keanes don't take their children seriously. "There is nothing in the world so important as children," says Keane. "They're the only real legacy we leave." And he isn't worried about today's kids. "Basically, families are the same as always. The surroundings just change." And as for rules or guide lines in raising their family, the Keanes are hard put to think of any. "Thel is the important one in our family," Keane says, "and both of us try to keep open minds. There's much to learn from children their freshness, their insights so Thel and I try to respect them as much as we expect them to respect us. As for rules, I guess you might say, if there are any, that they're all built around that word, respect respect for the other person and a good, healthy respect for God, which helps keep everything else in its proper place." From all this, it's not difficult to perceive that the Keane family is a well-knit group, with Thel working the needles. In order for Bil to turn out the two daily panels and the Sunday color pages, all of which have to be done six weeks ahead of publication, plus the increasing number of book selections of his cartoons, he has to put in long hours at the drawing board. Fortunately, though, his studio is part of his house, and he is close to his "editor" and severest critics Thel and the children. If a cartoon doesn't pass muster before this board of review, back it goes to the shop. His hours may be his own and he works at home, but he still doesn't have nearly so much time with his family as he would like. As for recreation, Keane says, "both Thel and I have sets of golf clubs, but I don't think we've touched them in years. What recreation we do have is mainly with the kids swimming, badminton, hiking the mountains, taking trips. A good part of the year the uniform for the day is a swim suit. Our favorite winter sport is reading the weather reports from around the country."

Keane also enjoys watercolor painting, and he unabashedly admits that he enjoys appearing before audiences. But he has to be very careful about indulging the ham in him, because the appearances can cut drastically into his time. This needn't necessarily be so, but Keane insists on giving any talk he may make just as much preparation as he gives his cartoons. "I like to think," he says, "that the mark of the professional is a sincere consideration for the audience. I wouldn't think of giving a talk, even to Jeffy's classmates, without thoroughly polishing it.

And then there are the letters and the fan mail. Keane answers thirty to forty letters personally each week, but the bundles of mail that come in as a result of the pun panel, Side Show, are turned into a family affair, with Thel and the older children opening and sorting them for Bil's selection. And the sender of any pun that is used gets a clever cartoon notice thanking him and telling him when his suggestion will appear in the newspaper.

The world of Bil Keane obviously is a full and a busy one. But the wonderful world of Bil Keane? There's only one way to know it... join The Family Circus. For, as the great German author and poet, Goethe, pointed out some time ago: "Men show their character in nothing more clearly than by what they find laughable."

CHANNEL CHUCKLES

NAVAJO SAND PAINTER

His canvass the smooth sand His colors natural sand His brush his hand.

ENCHANTMENT

Desert mountains Card-board silhouettes Held breathless By the moon Kangaroo rats Dancing with Moon-madness Enchantment Is night On the desert.

WESTERN SPRING

Once more . . . Butterflies drift Over alfalfa fields, Like white rose petals.

DESERT STORM

Across the sky The clouds swirl by, Like herds of white-faced cattle. Then comes the flurry Of rain in a hurry, And tumbleweeds run and rattle, As lightning rakes, And thunder shakes The valley with its prattle.

HOPI BASKET MAKERS

Weave, weave baskets firm and light with patterns held in proud delight. Send offerings of prayers on high Awaiting answer from the sky.

ARIZONA SUNSET

Its glory was a flaming fountain Of promised morrow, above the mountain. Then it became a fading spark, Reminder of the coming dark. The sunset was a dual theme: For sermon or for poet's dream.

SPRING SONG

With wind and sun For witnesses, Spring's brief ceremony Joins in bonds of beauty Hills wearing bridal veils Of wildflower bloom And fields in dress-up green Which, all too soon, Must be exchanged for Hard-working summer's Dusty overalls.

YOURS SINCERELY TREASURY OF ARIZONA'S FAIREST COLOR:

Many times in the years I have lived in Arizona have I seen a sunset or a thunderstorm or a placid summer vista in a drowsy shimmering valley. Or I have seen a snow storm blocking any traffic, or a wintry landscape from a mountain highway over a snow covered valley to the next mountain range. And I have seen the breath taking majesty of the Grand Canyon or the awe inspiring red rocks around Sedona or the shimmering blue of the valleys seen from Chiricahua National Monument.

It has often occurred to me that someone should combine the many, many glorious vistas in Arizona in a book, that those of us who are too lazy to compile that which we have seen in a permanent book might enjoy the glorious scenery which we enjoy.

You have done that in your Treasury.

FROM "THE WATER COUNTRY"

Over the years, I have admired your publication ARIZONA HIGHWAYS. In my opinion, it has been the finest example of any state publication in existence, but this year's Christmas issue is undoubtedly the epitome of all your issues. The magazine is certainly a credit to the State of Arizona and I am sure it does the job for which it is designed. The photography, make-up and copy are outstanding.

What I say about this magazine is not insincere praise. It is something I have felt for a number of years, but have never taken the time to put into writing. I do have a soft spot in my heart for Arizona as I lived in Tucson for a few months during the year 1944 and learned that the desert country has a charm all its own, and this is hard for a person from the "water country" to admit. I have been back a number of times since and always enjoy the hospitality your state affords.

MEMORIES OF THE PAYSON COUNTRY:

My April issue of HIGHWAYS has just arrived and I may say I am completely finished for the day. The nostalgia it has brought on is almost suffocating. Payson has long been a fond memory of two years residence prior to World War II. Now, thanks to yourself and the Messrs. Muench and Van Campen, it has come alive all over again. I have often wondered what happened to the Boardman Brothers, Frank Colcord, Sheriff Jim Kline and the rest of the "characters in residence" of the late 1930's. I almost forgot Grady Harrison, and the famous Elk Bar which I believe was handled by that intrepid lion hunter Colcord. I remember one night when Howard Hill, the bow and arrow artist, put on an exhibition in the same saloon that defies description. I can only say it was unbelievable under the conditions which furnished minimum lighting provided by a portable Delco generator. The reference to the rodeos held there is most accurate. I've seen a great many in my travels, but nothing could touch the Payson show. The highlight was always the Parker brothers, Ose and Bud, from Tucson, when they entered the team roping. The Wilbanks family who were some of the earlier settlers of Star(r) Valley with very vivid tales, when they would tell them, of the early sheepherder-cattleman feuds.

OPPOSITE PAGE "TOWER RUIN CANYONLANDS NATIONAL PARK" BY ROBERT A.