but [Harvey] Pekar told the truth. In the 1984 piece "Hypothetical Quandary," he details, in three understated pages, a Sunday morning trip to the bakery. The narrative is almost nonexistent: a quick car ride, a few thought balloons, an internal monologue about a publisher who never got back to him. Then, in the final panels, an epiphany--his obsessions are stilled, briefly, by the smell of fresh bread. It's a fleeting moment, but, of course, so is life.from David L. Ulin: Los Angeles Times: Harvey Pekar: An Appreciation
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