Gary Larson knows when to say goodbye.
"You should always leave the party 10 minutes before you actually do," says Larson, who is walking away from his hugely successful comic strip "The Far Side" after 15 years of bizarre and achingly funny installments."I just feel like the time is right," he says. "I don't want to let it become something that I've seen happen in some other cartoons, where they simply become little industries and the reason for having done it in the first place seems to have been buried somewhere."
The wisecracking cows, bespectacled scientists, towering beehive hairdos and the rest of Larson's trademarks will now find their place in pop culture's proverbial scrapbook. The final panel bid farewell to millions of devoted fans on Jan. 1.
Reserved and demure, Larson has seen his strip grow into popular lines of books, best-selling calendars, coffee mugs and greeting cards, not to mention the countless clippings that adorn refrigerators and bulletin boards worldwide. His exhibit of science-related cartoons even has appeared at the Smithsonian and resides permanently at the California Academy of Sciences in San Francisco.
Larson's most recent venture was a half-hour CBS Halloween special, "Tales From the Far Side," that saw Larson's improbable characters through 10 vignettes of "Far Side" cartoons in settings that ranged from insects on airplanes to space aliens in the Old West.
But, until further notice, the animated special represented the last fresh offshoot from "The Far Side" as we know it.
"What's happened to me has been so amazing. I've had 15 years of doing something I love," says Larson, who announced his retirement Oct. 3. "So, it's been bittersweet. The letter I wrote to newspaper editors when I announced my retirement was actually melancholy. That's when it sort of hit me."
The reclusive Larson, 44, a graduate of Washington State University, lives with his wife in Seattle. He generally avoids the media and, in this case, apologized beforehand for being a "lousy interview" at his downtown office.
"The Far Side," syndicated daily to nearly 1,900 newspapers worldwide, has built legions of followers through Larson's ability to deliver punchlines that featured a consistent, albeit strange, dichotomy of highbrow academia and utter absurdity. Readers voted it the No. 1 cartoon panel in all major U.S. market surveys for the past 10 years.
Larson, who may sometimes draw heat for crossing the line of good taste, is his own worst critic when it comes to the comedic quality of his work.
"I think one thing that's important to maintain is a sense of fear, always doubting yourself. . . . A good dose of insecurity helps your work in some ways," he says. "I think I finally started to lose that fear and a few times I've drawn things that, in the past, I wouldn't have sent in. So it was a red flag to me that maybe I was sitting on my laurels a little bit."
The scientific community was Larson's first bastion, due in large part to his considerable knowledge of the subject matter. "I never majored in science, but I've always loved it," he says.
In describing the odd nature of his artistic inspiration, Larson relies on simile.
"You know those little snow globes that you shake up? I always thought my brain was sort of like that. You know, where you just give it a shake and watch what comes out and shake it again. It's like that.
"I just get silly inside my head and I start to think about something and in my head I start twisting it around, contorting it and envisioning it in different ways," he says.
Another one of Larson's growing interests is playing music, specifically jazz guitar. A self-described neophyte, Larson has gone as far as constructing a small-scale home studio and says he spends hours poring over complicated musical theories.
And while cartoons always will be in his blood, he admits that his departure from the daily grind of creating comics will allow him the time to pursue a new passion.
"I just love to play," he says. "All your problems are gone, you're immersed in another world."