I. Have. Absolutely. No. Idea.But it's Throw
I found this while looking for something else among my collection of tangible art pieces. (I didn't find the something else.)
Stored in a flat-file cabinet with brush-and-ink and acrylic and watercolor and misbegotten oil pieces, the collection of tangible art comprises a shrinking portion of my life's work as an illustrator. It's probably 20 percent now. Most of my work lay on hard drives and storage devices racing to obsolescence.
Though dislodged carelessly from the pile, this piece still signals a specific strata in my personal geology: The Gray Time, which I spent trying to convince people who knew me as a writer that I could also draw pictures. No really, it's true! Do you want to see? hello? Hello?!
I was taking every job anyone was confident or carefree enough to give me.
Which must be where this came from.
But who or what is C. B. P. D. P. E?
Google®™ is no help: I'm pretty sure it's not about the Christian Business Development Directory (one search result); certainly not the Council Bluffs Police Department. Seems I'd remember those. "Performance evaluation?" "Prostate exam?" "Charles Bronson Production Department Perfunctory Edit?" Might as well be.
All the figures in the cartoon are women. I think. They may or may not have represented actual people. One is pregnant, one asleep. All consumed junk food (or maybe the pregnant one is instead bloated from hogging much of the food). They pulled an all-nighter processing towers of paperwork. They don't seem unhappy; loopy maybe, in that way of a job well done or a bottle well pulled.
TQM probably means (the meaningless) Total Quality Management, some buzzword — replaced by now, I'm sure for another — for "doing our best."
The clock indicates 2300 hours (11 o'clock p.m.) for some reason. Was this a military project? Ostensibly, C. B. P. D. P. E. was an achievement of some kind — the surviving of it, anyway — but what?
Somebody gotta clue? What a miracle if you happened to know!
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