While I was pretty much still crawling through the wreckage at the bottom, the story about Lisa and her battle with cancer that ran in the newspapers was recognized as a Pulitzer finalist. Just as everything was crashing (please believe me when I say that pun was not intended), my work was honored with the highest recognition that a cartoonist can receive. The universe’s penchant for irony was once again on full operational display. At the most celebratory event of my career when Cathy and I should be drinking champagne during dinner atop a really high building in a really big city somewhere, I felt very little like celebrating. It was instead an opportunity to feel a little sorry for yourself, but I consoled myself with the fact that at least it wasn’t a posthumous award. That’s me . . . always looking for the rainbows (this line should be read with a deep winking sarcasm).
