Cartoonists don’t care where ideas come from as long as they come. But the question as to how one arrives at funny ideas on a regular basis is so often asked that it’s good to give it an occasional ponder. What say we engage in a little group ponder, keeping in mind that the process of getting ideas is neither fun nor funny.

         Gary Larson of Far Side fame says he doesn’t know where ideas come from but caffeine is one key ingredient.

         New Yorker cartoonist Brian Savage confesses to doing his best work when angry. When the work’s not going well, he says, he can be a “miserable SOB,” which is why he never married.

         Addressing the question of how he gets ideas, the late, great Charles Saxon once admitted: “With great difficulty.”

         Cartoonist Donald Reilly says the question seems naïve to the point of annoyance “after the first one hundred times. The cartoonist has grown accustomed to having ideas at his disposal…so we often take the miracle for granted.. ‘I don’t know” or ‘they just come’ is as disappointing as the real answer---‘from life’.”

         A recent newspaper article accurately stated that my ideas come from life experiences and the humdrum of daily events. I remember one life experience when a nurse appeared by my hospital bed. I was a surgical patient and my paperwork disclosed that I worked (as PR director) for the bank where this angel of mercy had a checking account. Taking advantage of a captive audience, the lady in white said she couldn’t wait to talk with me and related how she always kept accurate records, the years she had been a bank customer, the horrible thing my bank did that resulted in an error in her checking account, and how high one of her checks had bounced. Because I want anyone with a syringe pointed in my direction to be in a good frame of mind, I confessed that I was part of a conspiracy that resulted in a grave injustice being inflicted on this lady’s person, not to mention her checking account. I then did two other things. Thing one was to call my assistant and ask that this customer’s problem be resolved. Thing two came a little later when I drew the experience as a cartoon and sold it to American Banker for $50.

         The drawing showed a man in traction with only one eye open and a nurse saying: “Oh, goodie, you’re coming around. I’m Nurse Elaine and I do all of my banking at your place and I always keep accurate records and I’ve never had a check bounce before but because your bank didn’t return two of my cancelled checks with my last statement I wrote a check to Van Fleet Casuals and that sucker bounced higher than two kites…”

         Cartoonists and others involved in the creative arts never take vacations from their work. In the hospital or on the beach, there’s always the chance that a snippet of somebody else’s conversation might result in a sale. Sometimes, the conversation is on the radio while I’m commuting from one humdrum event to another.

         National Public Radio was doing a piece about gene therapy on one such occasion. My mind took me to things one might hear in a twelve-step meeting where a guy named Gene was getting advice from a support group. The caption to the drawing, titled “Gene Therapy,” had a hapless soul saying: “My name is Gene. I never felt as though I fit in…I blamed others for blocking my progress…” Advice included, “Hi, Gene, let go and let God…How do you feel about that?…It works if you work it…Keep coming back.” If you’re not smiling it doesn’t mean you’re a bad person; it just means you’ve never been to a 12-step meeting. But I digress.

         I once spent thirteen years living with a neurotic dog. The time I entered my back yard and thought, “This dog isn’t playing with a full deck,” resulted in a cartoon. Yep, that one: A musical director on a cruise ship about to strike up a band of idiot musicians on a deck of empty chairs is saying, “We’re not playing with a full deck.”

         Not all ideas can be so easily explained. I once made fifty dollars from a cartoon idea that came to me in a dream. I don’t remember what I ate or drank before bedtime, but for reasons I’ll never understand, I dreamed of Santa Claus in the lobby of a bank that did not allow reindeer. The finished drawing shows Santa at a loan officer’s desk. They are flanked by two reindeer beneath a sign reading “Positively No Reindeer Allowed in Bank.” Santa is pleading his case, saying, “It’s just that it gets tougher and tougher each year.”

         Most of the time, there’s no conscious effort on my part to come up with ideas for cartoons. Usually, something sparks something and that leads to something. Occasionally, I have asked for help. When I asked several bank tellers what really ticked them off, they agreed that it was a customer who sometimes stapled his deposit slip to the money. This paid off with a published drawing showing several tellers beating up on a customer with the caption, spoken by one onlooker to another: “Looks as though old Featherby stapled his money to the deposit slip again.”

         On those occasions when a particular cartoon had to be drawn for a specific client on a pre-determined topic, by a certain time, the process came dangerously close to work. But I have scraps of paper, note pads, index cards and matchbook covers scattered throughout the house to confirm that, for the most part, ideas come at any time and in any place. I used to remember, from a few words, what the original cartoon idea that prompted the note was about. But after more decades of note scribbling than I’d like to admit, I recently had a chilling experience: I found some words on a scrap of paper in my basement and I couldn’t remember what the drawing was supposed to be. These were the words: “I know. My cat used to do the same thing.” One day soon, I plan to draw a man at a bar wearing a helmet and face protector, heavy gloves, padded clothing and holding a club, saying those words to a man with bandages on his head and an arm in a sling.

         Another excuse for saving stuff occurred just a few days ago when I found a piece of paper in a third floor closet. A few scribbles reminded me of a cartoon idea I had long forgotten: A bunch of rough-looking characters are chatting, while off to one side, one of their number is sitting alone. A caption explains that Frank is an outcast because of his insistence on using the phrase, “Out of the loop.” A sign on the wall identifies the residence as the Home for Inept Hangmen.

         While the “how” of getting ideas is different for each cartoonist, Roger Van Oech came up with a technique that’s used by each and every humorous artist.. In “A Whack on the Side of the Head,” he wrote that “The best way to get a good idea is to get a lot of them.”

         Way to go, Roger. Somewhere in that line there’s a cartoon.