I’ve solved the mystery that has haunted my cartoon childhood: Garfield hated Mondays because he didn’t know how to do them right.
He never started them by seeing all of the colors and textures and tastes and smells of the Central Market on a hot Hungarian day.
And I’m positive he didn’t go to the sweetest open mic night yet at a little bistro tucked away in a back corner of Budapest. One where the performers were generous with their transparency and the audience was generous with its congratulations–with its hi-giving and back patting and speechless shaking of heads. One where people loved to truly listen.
Or meet up with friends of friends to explore the ruin pubs and watch the sun set over the Danube.
No. Despite everything I learned from Garfield’s animated antics, on this, I must disagree. Monday’s aren’t half bad. In fact, they can be perfectly mellow.