Bill Clinton’s M10: The Story Behind My Favorite Cartoon
When the cartoon appeared, it attracted immediate attention.
When the cartoon appeared, it attracted immediate attention.
December 26, 2025
Cartoonists are often asked which of their New Yorker cartoons are their favorites. Mine are those that come with stories about their creation, or whose publication causes serendipitous occurrences, which I call “blips.”

Of all my cartoons that prompted blips, my most memorable was this one, from the September 21, 1992, issue.

In mid-August, 1992, I received the O.K. from cartoon editor Lee Lorenz, who requested a fast finish.

I drew through the night, delivered final art the next day, and Lee approved it. So did the fact checkers, except for a woman named Dusty, who said, “No! The bus stop sign is wrong because . . .”

Immediately, I told Lee that Dusty was wrong, which I knew because my apartment was a half block away . . .

After a week of silence, Lee told me that Dusty insisted that I bring her a photograph of the M10 bus stop.

Dusty approved the drawing and, after the two-week delay (which possibly caused the blip), it was published. But when the cartoon appeared, it attracted immediate attention.


A young woman’s voice—a soft, Southern drawl—lilted hesitantly from the phone.














And, in the next moment, my inner imp of the perverse seized control over me, as my mouth opened and words popped out, saying . . .





Miss Jackson said that if Clinton won, I’d be given a special viewing place on the Inauguration parade route and an invitation to the inaugural ball!

But all I got out of the “deal” was a phone number. I call and learn that I’ll get the parade places and ball invites after my five-hundred-dollar donation to the Democratic party is received. Oh.

So, after Election Day, I mail the five-hundred bucks and quickly receive the credentials and tickets. Great! I get my drawing back from The New Yorker and ship it to Clinton. Judith and Lilia obsess about what to wear and I have my tuxedo cleaned.
And, a few weeks later, I received a sweet surprise . . .

But on Inauguration Day, January 20, 1993, there was another surprise. Our special viewing site was chairless, so our options were to stand in the icy wind or to watch the parade on television in the Overseas Press Club.

That evening, we joined hundreds of other formally dressed guests from New York State at a gala in a Capitol Hill armory. We ate, drank, danced, and inched along the line to shake hands with the new President and First Lady. Over the din, I shouted,“Congratulations President Clinton! Mort Gerberg here! Have you hung up my cartoon yet?”

Because of the noise, and the prodding from the Secret Service, I couldn’t hear an answer. But a few months later, I received another note from Clinton, inviting me to write to him again . . . sort of.

And I couldn’t resist sending a note to Dusty at The New Yorker, thanking her for helping certify the validity of the M10 sign. But I never received a reply.

Mort Gerberg has contributed cartoons to The New Yorker since 1965.
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