Studio woes. Another bird in here this morning (two yesterday). They’re coming in thru the dog door, then they fly around and literally shit on everything before I can get them out. The dog is shitting in the morgue room on the floor because Kathy can’t sleep if the dog barks and Peaches barks when coyotes or javelina come near, my printer is on the fritz and is possibly broken, I don’t have a port on my home computer for my digital camera and Robert Ray won’t be coming out until Monday and the place is generally a pit. Other than that I’m happy.
The javalina didn’t attack last night. Now I’m wondering if maybe they stole one of our credit cards and spent the night at the Boulders. Maybe not. Brad R. just called and he’s emailing a jpg of the photo he took of the little biker gang on Christmas and I’ll forward it to Bernie and maybe you can see it right here before Monday.
Mare and Dan Rosenbaum came by yesterday (they are visiting from Brazil). Dan came on his bike in the morning and signed the dissolution paper for his stock. Mare came after lunch (she had lunch with Betty Huff and DeAnne G.).
Don Radina came out in the afternoon and we gave him the tour of the TW offices, then Kathy came and we went to El Encanto for dinner (he bought, we left tip, $10 cash). Don had good advice about stock and business.
Came home around seven. Built a fire in fireplace and watched some TV. Dropped in on the middle of “The Last Picture Show” and it was so good. Jeff Bridges, Cybil Shepherd, Randy Quaid were just little babies (it was filmed in 1971). That is the movie and kind of stories I want to tell. So small town Western.
I seem to have settled on “Endlessly OK” for the Tombstone trime travel piece. I think it says what I want to say about my lifelong obsession with the OK Corral.
“Too many people overvalue what they are not and undervalue what they are.”
—Malcolm Forbes
