November 7, 2003
A couple of long days. Got home last night from Spanish class at around 10. Woke up this morning with a headache, but took off for work early. Al Frisch was driving in and wanted to meet early.

Finished my editorial for March on fakes. Here’s a couple lines:

“I hate fakes. And I especially hate the fakers who fake them. Having said that, I admit to having faked a few Old West photos myself (my therapist wife calls that projection: hating something in someone else that you see in yourself).”

Kathy and I are playing a new game. Whenever we come home we ask, “What did Buddy eat today?” So far, the teething little bastard has eaten two of my hats (one straw and one sombrero); two books (One on Charlie Russell); two floating, pool chlorine dispensers; a viking headdress stored in the garage; a leash; a Fed Ex box (kathy’s new inventory forms); two unfinished paintings (one of Billy the Kid); a saddle blanket and a couch (upstairs in the studio). Other than that, he’s an angel.

Speaking of anger, I am especially motivated by outside negativity. One of my engines runs on anger. When people tell me I can’t do something, “You don’t have the talent or experience to run a magazine,” this is incredibly motivating to me. When I have a hard time getting up in the morning, I think of comments like that and say to myself, “They want you to stay in bed, and if you do, you’ll prove them right.” I found this comment while cleaning out one of my computer files. Here’s another one I read with glee:

Don Radina’s 2001 Prognosis for True West
“I researched the magazine business on the internet. It’s a business that requires a lot of expertise. People get degrees in only publishing. It’s not a hobby. It’s highly competitive. People study magazine editorial like Bob studied art. He can’t make it successful.”

“The pessimist complains about the wind; the optimist expects it to change; the realist adjusts the sails.”
—William Arthur Ward