Our brains seems to have trouble processing the risks of modern life. Deciding to avoid being eaten by cheetahs, we can do. Dealing with statistics, media feeding frenzies and what Carl Sagan would call “baloney”, not so much.
It’s another in my hazmat suit series – and there are more coming. I’m thinking of it as my own personal Cornetto Trilogy.
This one is from a couple of weeks ago. I timed it for the week after Jeter retired. Interestingly enough, It drew an angry reader phone call. Apparently, these diseases are nothing to joke about. It seems the caller never whistled past a graveyard.
A newspaper put out a call for pet photos and caption to be printed in a special section. I politely asked if I might submit a drawing instead of a photo. They agreed. My submission is below. It did not see print. Go figure.
“John Quincy Duck was left unable to fend for himself in the wild by hordes of bread throwing visitors to his pond. After being rescued by the Center for Mallard-justed Waterfowl, he was taken in by a kindly country cartoonist. He now lives a comfortable life deep in the heart of suburbia where he enjoys pizza, skittles and daytime TV. He thinks “The View” just isn’t the same since Barbara Walters left.”