I can’t draw a stick figure. In the interest of full disclosure, I didn’t draw the stick figure featured above, because, you know, I can’t even mimic the most rudimentary representation of art. But, that seemingly-significant lack of talent has not prevented me from trying my hand at cartooning. I’ve got a million ideas which could be translated into award-winning cartoons, if only I could draw. Well, actually, only three spring to mind (which I will describe below, and allow you to visualize the cartoon yourself, sparing you my amateurish attempts at drawing). But first allow me to describe for you three cartoons, created by other cartoonists (we’re a small but tight fraternity, although no one’s yet shared the secret handshake with me), and which, even now, I am attempting to suppress a chuckle when remembering them:
My current favorite is one I encountered recently, in which a rock band is rehearsing in a recording studio; they have stopped playing for a moment, and are talking among themselves; one band member is emphatically indicating, “She can’t hit the high notes on, ‘Carry On Wayward Son,’ and she absolutely butchers ‘Dust in the Wind.’ A pretty young woman, wearing a blue dress, is clutching a small dog, and is listening at the door. The caption below this single-panel cartoon: “Toto, I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.”
Another cartoon I recall seeing years ago features Santa Claus in a family’s house, in a room with a fully-decorated, Christmas Tree, and who is leaning into the fireplace, and yelling up the chimney; visible on the rooftop is Santa’s sleigh, and his team of reindeer, and several elves, who are all, presumably part of Santa’s entourage, and there to assist him with his work; a young boy is crouched behind a couch, hidden from Santa’s view; Santa is yelling up the chimney, “Do I have to do everything around here? How ‘bout I come up there and clunk some heads together?” The caption below this single-panel cartoon: “The year Timmy learned that Santa Claus is real. . .and he’s kind of a dick.”
The third in the series of cartoons I remember fondly consists of a balding, middle-aged man floating in a pool on his back, sporting a sizable belly (never mind that this image of a large, rotund man violates basic laws of physics, floating so easily, as he is); The caption below this single-panel cartoon: “Boy, John Donne was wrong when he said, ‘No man is an island.’
Now you’ve enjoyed some of the material which has inspired me. If you think you can handle it, now it’s time to move on to my personal creations:
A beat-up, old pickup truck is stopped on a lonely, two-lane road, its hood popped open, as several paunchy, middle-aged hunters (perhaps wearing those flourescent orange vests) are gathered around the engine, peering in at several steaks sizzling on the engine-block; in the middle of the road a few feet in front of the truck lies a moose, with full antleria (Ed. note: made-up word alert!), dead, and with chunks of its belly carved out - clearly the truck has killed the moose in a high-speed collision with the truck (I know what you’re thinking: a very large moose should win that encounter with a truck, but sometimes you have to suspend disbelief, in pursuit of art). The caption below this single-panel cartoon: “Moose-steaks were made.”
The scene in the second cartoon is a a young child’s bedroom, in which a young girl is snuggled under the covers, and a man dressed in a dark suit and tie, and wearing a fedora, is perched on the edge of the bed, reading the girl a bedtime story; he is just closing the book he holds, having just finished reading the story to the girl; the girl is pleading with the man, “Please read me another story, Uncle Vito!” The caption below this single-panel cartoon: “The real second-story man.”
The final cartoon features a street scene, in which a young man wearing a t-shirt, with the logo, “Camp Lake-A-Swimma,” and the word, “Staff",” lettered below it, and clutching several thick textbooks, is walking on the sidewalk, and has just walked past “Froggy’s Bar & Grill.” Several other people are walking on the sidewalk as well. The caption below this single-panel cartoon: “Congratulations on passing the bar, counselor.” This cartoon can also be utilized as a greeting card, in that very small section of Hallmark cards devoted to “Law School Graduate Congratulations.”
Pretty great, huh? Even absent any trace of artistic ability, why can’t I become half of a famous cartooning duo, much as we’ve seen in the music business? Consider: George and Ira Gershwin; Burt Bacharach and Hal David; and Elton John and Bernie Taupin. What? You were expecting more than three hit songwriting teams? You’re new here, huh?
The answer to the collaboration opportunity gap question might lie in a response I received some years ago from a former colleague, who had become a syndicated cartoonist, and whose work I admired. I shared at least one of my many cartoon design ideas with him, and indicated that he should feel empowered to freely use them in his work.
He charitably responded, “Uh, thanks man, I like to use my own stuff exclusively.” Well played, my friend; cartooning survived to fight another day.