Did it. Finished all the art at 11:30 this morning. Did three more Dalton vingettes and a spot illustration for $10 Words From A $2 Cowboy. Went up to office and gave the scans to Gus, he shoe-horned everything in and we moved around several images to make it all fit, handed off to Meghan and she put her eagle eye on it, found some errors, she passed off to R.G. who nipped and tucked, and at about five o’clock we were done. Faxed all nine pages to Lue Barndollar in Coffeyville, Kansas for her approval. Robert is PDFing the files even as you read this.
Joe Yager came by at 10 this morning and cleaned out the carburetor on the John Deere (Series B, 1940) and we got it started. The sounds of that thumping takes me back to being a kid at grandpa Bell’s farm every time. Somewhere Al Bell is smiling.
The cover illustration I spent seven days on was just okay (I panicked and did a bunch of line shot items to give to Daniel). We sent the whole mess home with him on Wednesday, and yesterday afternoon he sent up the finished results. I held my breath as I went to look at it on Robert’s computer. And the verdict is—it is wonderful! Gus said it’s the best cover he has ever seen on True West. I agree. I’m not supposed to do this (we don’t even go to the printer until Monday), but here’s a sneak peek:
Allen Fossenkemper read my title ideas and offered several of his own. A couple have potential: KO'd at the OK Corral, and Hokie Pokie at the OK Corral. Funny.
Took Carole to lunch at Pei Wei ($17 cash). Fun talking about petty stuff with her. I’d be petty about someone in the office who is driving me nuts, then she’d be petty. Theraputic, really, since we have to act so “mature” around the troops. Well, at least she does.
The javalina gang struck last night at 1:30. They’re more casual now. Kind of a Happy Hour crowd. They know how to open the gate, they walk around, destroy a few plants, stink up the place and stroll out. Peaches of course, going nuts in the studio. Said goodnight and went back to bed.
“A dog always barks louder at his master’s door.”
—Bernie Poochlander, I think
