I drew a different cartoon last week, which led my better half to think that I didn't have to draw another one last night. The problem is, I can't tell you when — or if — the first cartoon will ever see the light of publication.
For some time now, I have wondered what my editorial cartoonist colleagues and I will draw when the day comes that the Grim Reaper comes for Donald TanTrump and doesn't take "You're crooked and stupid!" or his stomping away for an answer.
Well, the other night, my idea for that fateful day came to me, and I decided that I had better commit it to ink and bristol board before I forgot it. Besides, there's always the chance that the fateful day will come over some weekend when I'm far away from my drawing board. Or that the official announcement will come when my deadline is seconds away; my cartoon is really dialogue-heavy, with six panels, and inking all those letters takes time.
The dialogue isn't 100% inked. One line of the dialogue refers to Trump as having been impeached twice. He may well have been impeached four or five times before mortality finally catches up with him.
Who knows whether I'll even still be drawing cartoons by then? My hands shake a little these days, and I'm not getting any younger, either.
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