I've forgotten how to draw. That's what vacations can do to a cartoonist. A week and a half without pencil to paper and BAM! The art ability takes a vacation of its own. I sincerely hope it's having a great time, but I wish it would come home. I no longer recognize characters in my strip, The Middletons. Who are these strangers? Did they have plastic surgery while I was struggling to breathe in Colorado? Who the hell drew these stick figures? Who scratched out the tortured lettering? Unfortunately, that would be ME! And my idea man, the one who lives somewhere deep in my gray matter, the one who shovels up captions and situations, and political incorrectness-yeah, that one- is living it up in the Caribbean, or Aspen, or maybe Italy. Who knows? But he's not here. Not only that, but he's left my brain a mess, not an idea in sight. Oh well, soon they'll tire of mountain climbing, or water skiing, or hanging out at the beach. They'll wander back into my life. And I'll be only too happy to help them unpack.