February 8 2003
Trying to tweak travel cover. Changed “Western Travel” to “Historic Travel” but our grammar king, R.G., pointed out historic is misused in this context since it implies that the trips are all very historic, but I wonder if that isn’t acceptable hyperbole. Or, a major rationalization. Also changed “Special” to “2003 Annual” but the type face on Annual is too hip for the room, and I asked Daniel to find something more legible. Dan has been reading the journal comments and he says he does agree with Allen F. that the cover has no traditional Western icons and seems a tad too “Route 66 kitsch.” We threw around ideas on the phone and I kind of wondered if maybe a classic cowboy riding a jackalope in a bucking bronco way, in the center of the highway, with legends like Wyatt Earp, Billy the Kid and Geronimo peering down from the luminescent clouds might work. We laughed at the obvious overthinking, overworking culdesacs we get ourselves into. These covers really concern us, because when we get a turkey they just kill our cash flow, and when we get a winner it means literally thousands of new readers and dollars in the bank.

Had lunch with a very pretty blond at the Bakery Cafe at El Ped (she bought). Traded gossip about locals and flirted shamelessly over clam chowder and a salad. She has a very sexy laugh and the glint in her pale blue eyes really turns me on. It was all I could do not to make a move on her right there in the cafe. When we got up to leave (she had to get back before she was missed) I flat out asked her if she would sleep with me. She smiled and whispered in my ear that she would love to get the chance. Fortunately we are married, so after a movie (“Unfaithful” on cable, of course), we slept like babies. No sex, just hardcore sleeping. Man was it good.

I was actually inspired to take a new look at my wife by a letter in our upcoming travel issue. We asked for our reader’s favorite road trips right here on the website and one of the mini-travelogues told of a couple trying to wade across the San Pedro River down by Tombstone. The wife wanted to be carried, but when the husband got her out in the middle he stumbled and she got her butt wet. She commented, “If you had just met me, you wouldn’t have dropped me.” And that really impacted me. It’s true. We try harder in the beginning and then we get kind of lazy. I decided I would treat lunch with my wife like it was the very first time I ever saw her. Interesting experiment. For one thing, I had a tendency to actually listen to what she was saying.

"Bart, a woman is like a beer. They look good, they smell good, and you'd step over your own mother just to get one."
—Homer Simpson