Wizard of Id by Parker and Hart for February 23, 2025

It was the winter I was a teenager. There were heavy drifts from the snow plows, and in the back yard, we dug a snow fort, candles and whatever. Youth wasted on the youth.

Fire and ice. Teegra was better looking.

‘Oh Henry’ sounds like a candy bar reference.

Now this look like fun.

I remember building snow forts as a kid. There seemed to be a lot more snow back then. Of course I was a lot smaller.

So the wizard of id and bc both do a snow theme? Well that’s one way for the artist to do both drawings at the same time.

Not only did Henry make it, he gets to play in it!

“Opportunities multiply as they are seized!!!!!

Looks like an igloo is in order….

I just hope it doesn’t cave in on itself.

Handy having a dragon around…

Ah, but was youth really wasted on the young? I’d argue it was more of an **investment**—an investment in experiences, in trial and error, in the sheer joy of being alive.

Building a snow fort wasn’t just play; it was an early lesson in engineering and survival. If you didn’t structure it right, it collapsed, and you found yourself suffocating under a pile of snow—a very real incentive to learn structural integrity. And let’s not forget the grand strategy of neighborhood snowball warfare, where alliances were forged and betrayals were swift. We weren’t just throwing snow; we were tacticians, field generals in makeshift battlegrounds, plotting sneak attacks and mastering the art of ambush.

And when the battle was over—when we were soaked through, red-cheeked, and half-frozen—we gathered in someone’s kitchen for hot chocolate. Differences didn’t matter then. We didn’t care who was popular, who was rich, or who had the latest gadgets. What mattered was the shared experience, the human connection.

People love to say, “Youth is wasted on the young.” But as I look around today, I wonder if that phrase has never been more true. Kids now sit glued to their screens, mesmerized by the digital world while completely disconnected from the real one. They have access to everything—every fact, every person, every virtual experience—but at what cost? Their friendships exist in text bubbles. Their wars are fought in video games. Their adventures take place inside an algorithm.

And I wonder… 50 or 60 years from now, will they look back and realize they were the ones who truly wasted their youth? Will they lament the years spent staring into the glowing abyss of technology, never stepping outside, never building forts, never launching a single well-packed snowball at an unsuspecting enemy?

Because if youth is wasted on the young, then this generation is squandering it in ways we never could have imagined.

Everybody should have a Henry!

Sunday with Henry. That’s not a bad start.