My morning ritual:
A day without sunshine is like a day without outrage . . . and I always know just where to find some.
Coffee in one hand, notebook and pen in the other, I sit, reading the newspaper or browsing news sites on the Internet. I am coiled like a snake ready to pounce on my prey; some bit of unfairness, some indignity that never takes very long to show up.
A few sips into my first cup of coffee, I pick up the scent of the morning’s first victim stroll, or is it, scroll by. It’s a story about a flute player named Emily Lowe, who is being paid less than men of equal status in the Boston Symphony Orchestra and is bringing a lawsuit to right the matter.
“There’s a cartoon here! There’s a cartoon here somewhere!, I know it!”
My brows clutch and meet in anger. A growl rumbles in my throat and my heart beats just a bit faster.
My fingers tighten around my pen and I begin scribbling madly, scratching out every word I can think of that relates to music, orchestras, flutes. My pen thrashes like a possessed planchette, the pointer on a ouija board, powered in its search, by someone or something other than myself.
And thus a cartoon is born.
I always say: A day without outrage, is like a day without sunshine.
For me, a day without outrage, is also, a day without a cartoon.
And a day without coffee? Who knows? I’m afraid to find out!