‘DOWNSTOWN’ CREATOR IS FACING A DOWNTIME

“It’s gotten harder and harder for me to do ‘Downstown,’ ” says comic-strip artist Tim Downs. “I finally had to ask myself if it was the kind of strip I wanted to be drawing 10 years from now, and realized that it wasn’t.”

Today will mark the end of “Downstown.” After 11 years--five with college papers and six for the Universal Press Syndicate--Downs is calling it quits. The last two weeks of the strip have been devoted to a farewell party with barbed references to “guests” from other comics, including Charlie Brown, Spider-man and Garfield.

“It started as a college strip--Josh and John were based on me and my roommate; Chuck Laylo was the composite fraternity guy,” explains Downs. “I think it was better when I was in college: I understood what I was writing about more thoroughly. I’m married now, and a father; in some ways, the strip is a victim of my growth. To bring it into line, I would have to make radical changes, like marrying off Chuck and giving him kids. I’d rather fold it up and start something new.”

Josh, the Renaissance man manque , and his phlegmatic roommate, John, whose search for a date was as desperate as it was unsuccessful, remained the principal characters in the strip. Downs’ most memorable creation was the modern lounge lizard, Chuck Laylo. Shallow, vain and calculating, Laylo embodied the worst qualities of the singles-bar stud. Rounding out the cast were Malcolm Magnesia, an elementary-school nerd--a sort of ‘80s version of Charlie Brown--and Fred, the devastatingly sarcastic waiter at La Poubelle (The Trashcan).

“Downstown” never enjoyed a vast readership; at its peak it appeared in 50 newspapers. The strip now runs in only 15 papers, including The Times and the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, for an estimated readership of 2 million (“Peanuts” and “Blondie” each appear in more than 1,000 papers). But those readers are extremely loyal: The Times dropped “Downstown” last year, but reinstated it after a flurry of angry letters.

Downs’ portrait of contemporary singles life appealed strongly to baby boomers, who recognized themselves and their friends. Every woman under 40 has dealt with a Chuck Laylo, and bachelors identified with John, who needed a snow shovel to get the dirty laundry off his floor and whose refrigerator contained “the four basic food groups: fast, frozen, junk and spoiled.” (Fred’s life was somewhat simpler--he just went to the store for “a 50-pound sack of Purina Bachelor Chow.”)

Downs’ reason for discontinuing his strip reflects a major problem facing cartoonists today, especially those who deal with contemporary situations and social satire. As the artist grows older and society evolves, how does he maintain the strip? If he changes it too much, he risks destroying the qualities that initially attracted his readers; if he changes it too little, he may lose the contemporary tone and fall into formula humor.

Garry Trudeau took a 21-month leave of absence from “Doonesbury” in 1983-84, and is still trying to adapt his group of ‘60s characters to the profoundly different society of the mid-’80s.

Eventually, Downs hopes to start a new strip: “I’ve done 3,000 episodes of ‘Downstown’ in a row,” he concludes. “I want to take a break before I try to start something I may be drawing for the next 11 years.”

Meanwhile, without Chuck Laylo, Josh, John and Fred, the comics page is going to look very empty to some readers. Ave atque vale .