The story behind the cartoon
Merv has found the perfect calendar: gilt-edged, lake and blossom on every page, the kind of month you would happily live in forever. He reaches up on tiptoe and turns the page, already looking forward to June.
The page underneath is May. Same lake, same blossom, same thirty-one dates in the same tidy rows. He turns another, and another — a whole stack of identical Mays waits beneath, patient as geology.
Nothing in the picture is broken. The calendar works perfectly; it simply never advances. Merv stares at the second May the way a man stares at a clock that has kept perfect time for a year and never once struck a new hour.
The joke is the warranty on forever: the month you loved most is the one you can never leave. Merv wanted a calendar that would hold the good month still; it did, and now the good month is holding him.

