Working Stiff

I confess that I was never that big a fan of "B.C." or "Wizard of Id" but I confess that hearing that Johnny Hart had passed away gave me a little twinge. The main reason: He passed away at his drawing board. When it was my dream to be a cartoonist, this was my notion of how things would be: I would kiss my wife at the door to my office, carrying a big mug of hot chocolate into my secret lair. I would close the door behind me and sit down at the table that had been my workspace for decades. The first hour or so would be simply doodles - no finished drawings - just trying to get ideas on paper.
I would eventually grow tired and stare out the big bay window and wish that I had met my deadlines for the week already. Despair would creep in and doubt would cloud my mind. Why did I choose to be a newspaper cartoonist? Then I would spend another fifteen minutes talking myself back into my chosen profession before I realize that the hot chocolate is no longer hot and I must start making plans for lunch.
In the kitchen there is a sandwich with a note from my wife who has gone off to pursue her own fabulous life, and while I search for potato chips to accompany the roast beef and cheddar cheese, the seed of an idea begins to take root. I rush back to the office, sandwich in hand, and begin to sketch out what will most certainly be a series of cartoons that will run at least a week. When I look up again, it is dark outside and I see the headlights of my wife's car coming up the drive. It's been a good day.
I didn't get a lot of laughs out of the cartoon caveman or the kingdom of Id, but I respect and admire the work ethic. He was a working cartoonist for over fifty years. The next time I have a drink out of my Arby's B.C. mug, I'll do it with just a little more respect.