Whenever I sit down in the morning to peruse my weekly copy of the New Yorker - fountain of all wisdom, source of excellent movie reviews, and provider of much-needed giggles and grins - the first thing I do is flip to the back page where the results of the cartoon-caption contest are posted. I always check to see whether anybody I know has won, since several individuals of my acquaintance are apt to submit suggestions on a regular basis. Not me, I hasten to add: my mind goes infuriatingly blank when presented with a drawing of a giant badger sitting on a bar stool or any of the other surreal situations likely to spring from the fevered imaginations of the magazine's famed artistes.
This morning, I was greeted by an excellent surprise. Although there were no familiar names among the finalists, there was a caption of such transcendence, such on-the-nose zeitgeist-mirroring, such perfection, that I share it here. It's the second one down, in case you are unable to guess:
Michael Hicks of New Orleans, LA, I salute you!
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