When I was starting out as a syndicated cartoonist, I lived in a house on a bluff, 100 feet above the Tennessee River. I couldn’t begin to afford that house today, but real estate prices are another story. The view was grand. I always kept a pair of binoculars handy. Bald eagles were frequent visitors. Interesting yachts would pass daily, making the long voyage on the waterways, from the Great Lakes to the Gulf of Mexico. Huge commercial tows would pass with serene majesty. And every now and then, especially midweek when things were slow, there would be a boat drifting far out in the water, its company assuming no one could see them.