Shorter Short Stories: Lord Have Mercy Diablina de Polvo!

 November 12, 2025

   Somewhere, between a song and a trailer lies a short story told even shorter.

Shorter Short Stories

 Dick Speed dreamed of being a hero, but 

Arkansas Tom cut him down without half a chance.

Daily Whip Out: "Dick Speed Goes Down"

She rose up like an apparition, floating in the desert dust, leering down at me.

Daily Whip Out: "Diablina de Polvo"

Backyard Miracles

Kathy, with Uno, In Her Garden

When Payback Isn't A Bitch

Got this off of a recent Facebook post:

G Airy Silverfox

   Bob, no way on earth you remember me, but i wanted to drop you a line. I was an intern on your radio show at KSLX in 1991-92. You were the kindest and most supportive person to me. It's been a part of shaping the leader i am today. Thank you, and I'm glad you are doing well. And the art is fantastic.

We Tell The Wrong Stories

   The horrors of those long ago border wars have dissipated into tall tales and indigenous grudges. For the extended family of Felix Telles, what they remember is the kindness of their father. In the end, he did not succumb to the hatred. That is a giant accomplishment for a one-eyed captivo known today as Mickey Free.

Daily Whip Out:

"Mickey & Fannie Free"

"The long and short of it is short and sweet wins every time."

—Old Vaquero Saying

Life Lessons at The White Buffalo Corral

 November 11, 2025

   I was on my morning walk with Uno and I had two epiphanies. The first is, ending a story is so difficult, why not write the ending first? And the second epiphany was, as we were walking by the White Buffalo Corral, a mother and her calf came trotting towards us. 

The White Buffalo Corral

   I told Uno "someone wants to say hello," so he naturally ran over to stick his nose through the metal slats when the mother reared back and rammed the fence with her head—hard! The message seemed clear: "If this fence wasn't here, I'd kill you both."    

   Good to know. And, for the record, that is a good ending to a story.

"I hate endings. Just detest them. Beginnings are definitely the most exciting, middles are perplexing and endings are a disaster. The temptation towards resolution, towards wrapping up the package, seems to me a terrible trap. Why not be more honest with the moment? The most authentic endings are the ones which are already revolving towards another beginning. That’s genius."
—Sam Shepard

Dust Devils On The Brain

 November 10, 2025

   Deep in my memory bank lay the seeds of countless dust storms I experienced growing up in my home country. And when those seeds germinate, you get this:

Daily Whip Out Memory:

"Dust Storm Over Lake Mohave"

   And these seeds kick up historical storms as well.

Daily Whip Out: "Red Lake Refugees"

   And, to be honest, even though I left that country for good almost a half century ago, I still can't escape those dang dust devils. They just seem to follow me everywhere I go.    

Dust Devil On Rockaway Hills Arena

(and in front of the Seven Sisters)

   And, we can't be talkin' dust                            devils without this classic, windswept do. . .

Dusty Springfield

Oh, behave!

"The devil made me do it the first time. The second time I done it on my own."

—Billy Joe Shaver, "Black Rose"

El Malpais Dust Riders & A Fitting Epilogue to Finding The Truth

 November 9, 2025

   Okay, here's a couple opening scenes I'd like to see: They rode out of a dust storm on El Malpais, eager for the hunt, daggers sharp, alert to the danger.

Daily Whip Out: "Malpais Dust Riders"

Scratchboards Collage:

"Real Women of The Wild West

He walked with a swagger, he whispered sweet nothings at the drop of a hat but he never said anything was as easy as all that.

"The Mexicali Stud"

This boy gave back as good as he got.

"Jesse In Hell"

A Fitting Epilogue to Finding The Truth

    It appears from where I sit that the frontier era I loved growing up is fading from the stage. New eras, closer to our current time, have emerged in recent books and TV series as more popular history. Yellowstone and Landman being good examples. 

   When I started chasing the dream of finding out the truth about the Old West characters I loved to read about as a kid, little did I realize that the odds of finding out any solid truth would be so low. In my naive way, I thought, with some effort that we might be able to get close to 100% of the truth. I now realize the realistic chances of finding out rock hard truth is very, very iffy. Just for an example, I read a statistic that of all human history we only know, perhaps 1.6% of it. The world we live in has been designed to be forgotten. And, to make matters worse, written diaries, verbal testimony, is only as good as the human condition is geared to know, which is to say, it's all very sketchy.

   I still love it as much as I did as a wide-eyed kid, perhaps even more, because now I realize how elusive it is to understand anything in this world.

"You often hear, 'History will be my judge.' But history will have its own obsessions, prejudices and amnesia. We don't get to climb some sort of mountain of truth and stand on the top and know everything."

—Ian McEwan, author of "What We Can Know"

Uno Lying Down Examined

 November 8, 2025

   I just assumed everyone would see the Uno outcropping that I saw on my ride home the other day, but when Kathy pointed at this photo and said, "Is it up here?" I knew I needed to explain.

New River Mesa and Uno Outcropping

   No, it's actually down there in the left-hand corner.

New River Mesa Closeup

   And, for the viewing impared, here is a sketch of Uno Lying Down so you can hopefully make the connection.

Uno Lying Down

   And, for the record, here is the actual Uno lying down but in a slightly different context.

Uno Exit Interview

"I swear, once you see it, you will never unsee it."

—Old Cartoonist Saying

The Lineman, Shifting Sands And Uno Lying Down

 November 7, 2025

   I have been reminiscing all this week about my land surveyor days and I realized I wanted to try and convey just how massive the land is that surveyors work in.

Daily Whip Out: "The Lineman"

   The truth is I often felt very small and insignificant holding a line rod out in the middle of nowhere.

Shifting Sands

  Beyond the Plains of Augustine, mixed-blood gunfighters proliferated on the fringes of tiny towns cropping up with odd names like Red Hill, Quemado ("Burned"), Datil and Luka Chuka.

Daily Whip Out: "El Mescalero Pistolero"

   One breed of man did more to foster these legends of the Old West and that would be this breed:

"The BS-er"

The late, great Kristi Jacobs curated the impossible when she took on my studio many moons ago.

   She is missed.

   And, finally, a certain dog has a rock outcropping named for him, as of last night.

Uno Lying Down

   And once you see it, you can't unsee it.

"An intellectual is a person who has discovered something more interesting than sex."

—Aldous Huckley

So-Hi Estates & The Origins of "Heffer Dust!"

 November 6, 2025

   A couple more surveyor stories. If you've ever driven on I-40 east of Blake Ranch Turnoff and you actually made it to Ashfork, you can thank me and my rear chainman skills. And, if you have ever used this term, below, in conversation, you can also thank me, and Ralph Tisdale.

The Doper Roper: "Heffer Dust!"

   Yes, in the summers of 1967-'68, home from college, I worked on Arizona Highway Department survey crews "blue-topping" the grade near Blake Ranch Turnoff, east of Kingman. We established grade all the way to upper Knight Creek.

   In 1970 I moved to Phoenix and got on at APS working a survey crew that was tasked with locating J-boxes and transformers for new housing development. One of our crew chiefs was an old, crusty cowboy named Ralph Tisdale and his favorite swearing substitute was "Heiffer Dust" which I borrowed—and mangled—for my comic strip character The Doper Roper which ran in the Razz Revue from 1972-1976.

The Doper Roper:

"Crazy Hippies On Crazycrack Mountain"

   During my surveyor period, I also worked on laying out the lots at So-Hi Estates outside of Kingman where my father retired to in the nineties.

Thomas Charles at So-Hi Estates

(that's Castle Rock at the upper left)

"The opinion others have of you is their problem, not yours."

—Old Vaquero Saying

"Chain!" Yelled The Rear Chainman As He Pulled Out His Plumb Bob And Dangled It Over The Section Corner

 November 5, 2025

   For a couple summers, when I came home from the University of Arizona I worked as a rear chainman on several land survey crews around Kingman. It was a very hot job and it was somewhat physically challenging and I basically didn't have a clue what we were doing. Thus I found myself as a Rear Chainman. It was the job of the rear chainman to bring up the rear and then cry out "Chain!"

An Early Survey Crew

(that is the rear chainman sitting down)

   Yes, we would cry out "Chain!" when the head chainman would advance across the desert until the 200 foot, coiled metal tape would come to an end where I was standing. 

 Typical Old Time Head Chainman On A Tear

I was in charge of chain tension and corrections. If you've ever had to pull a 200 foot metal tape chain taut so that the measurement is more correct, you know how arduous that task can be.

   I also got pretty good at holding a plumb bob over the chain dangling it on a property pin or a section corner.

A Wall of Plumb Bobs

   Survey crews don't use chains anymore, but back in those days it was a tough and necessary job and I'm proud to say I never lost a chain, or a chance to sit down.

"Never mess with a surveyor. We know places where no one will ever find you."

—Old Surveyor's Threat

Last Call at The Heatwave Cafe

 November 4, 2025

   My neighbor and good friend. Bob White has a new book out on the posters of the 101 Ranch. And the guys who ran the ranch and the Wild West Shows they put on, were these three cats.

All Hat, Some Cattle

The Miller Brothers of Bliss, Oklahoma

(from the book)

   Here's the cover of Bob White and Dale Williams' new book featuring 101 Ranch Wild West Posters: 

   And this is one of my favorite posters and I have never seen it before.

Warning: Not that it matters, but most of what follows is true.

Last Fandango at The Heatwave Cafe

   Some of you know that I had an erratic, sordid career of being a drummer in honkytonk bands back in the day. They all seemed to have one thing in common: one guy thought he was the reason the band was any good and everyone else in the band hated that guy. I'm not saying every band had one—or, that I was never that guy—but I am saying petty hatred is a basic component of every band I encountered in the continental United States, post Buddy Holly.

   I've actually witnessed a steel guitar player pulling a pistol on a guitar player for being out of tune—in the middle of a song!—at the Moose Club on east Wilmot Road in Tucson. I've seen scores of X-rated makeout sessions on the dancefloor and, of course, I have been stiffed by club owners because I had the temerity to want to be paid.

   But, the wildest and craziest place I ever played was The Heatwave Cafe out on the Apache Trail.   It's been there forever, but imagine my surprise when I saw this notice in the paper.

Last Call

   The historic Heatwave Cafe is closing its doors Sunday before it undergoes a change in ownership, though plans for the dance hall-eatery remain unclear.

   According to longtime waitress, Patricia Veritehas, who said she has been working at the cafe for 18 years, employees were told that is was closing a few days ago, but weren’t give much information about why.

The Heatwave Cafe, 1973

   A sign on the front door warns of shorter hours because of staffing issues.

   It has been rumored that the original Queen of Country Swing will make an appearance on the last night of operation, but she could not be reached for comment.

"Don't hold your breath."

   Talk to any old-timers around the Valley and you will hear wild stories about what went on behind those classic wagon wheel windows.

Assorted Heatwave Mayhem

1953-2025

   The house band featured Jay Bob & The Ramrods, from about 1957 to 1983, but according to old-timers, they split up in the middle of a Hoyt Axton song and have never returned. Although there is a rumor they may play the last gig if two restraining orders can be lifted.

   From the beginning, the rowdy honkytonk featured performers from both sides of the border.

Tinker Fiero de Opodepe 

Billed as "The Mexican Muddy Waters"

   All the waiters wore big beach sombreros and played the part of what the owners called, "energetic pendejos."

Head Pendejo, Ernesto Casadueno

circa 1997

   This may seem hard for Millennials to believe, but sometimes dramatic plays were featured on Sunday. This is a promotional photo of the cast of "Hedda Gabler" a play by Henrik Ibsen at the Heatwave, circa, 1959.

"I S'pose!"

   Hailing from Bavispe, Mexico, the Chatahones clan, who originally owned the Heatwave Cafe, inter-married and divorced often, with horrific fist fights common between shifts.

   And, of course, it was at the Heatwave I encountered the prettiest, funniest and wildest "cowgirl" I have ever laid eyes on.

A Total Dream Girl at The Heatwave

   If you show up at the last fandango at the Heatwave Cafe this weekend, you can expect to see a lot of walkers and IV tubes, but you can bet your bottom dollar on one thing: there will be plenty of scores to settle.

   Boy Howdy!

—The Cattletrack Times

“There will come a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning.”

—Louis L’Amour

The Scott Baxter Photo That Captures The No BS Look

 November 3, 2025

   I am proud to say that the legendary Arizona photographer, Scott Baxter, came out to the Triple B Studio last summer and shot the hell out of me in the studio and on the grounds around the bunkhouse. He was on assignment from the Arizona Historymakers and the photo shoot was for the program at the induction ceremony last weekend and his photos of me will also be in the permanent installation at the Historical Society Museum in Tempe.

   Scott brought a big-ol'-slab of plywood with him which he and his assistant set up on the back patio, then proceeded to attach about 45-50 of my hat collection to the plywood. Then, they sat me in front of it.

Hat Man Do

(photo by Scott Baxter)

Scott also shot me working at my art desk.

A Whip Out In Progress

   This next photo, by Scott, captures a certain look I give when I am accosted by know-it-alls. . .

Hey, Ese, Cut The BS

   Or, as the Old Vaqueros are fond of putting it. . .

"You sure know a lot for being so damn dumb."

—Old Vaquero Sayings

Dick Tracy Reprieved And "Gloria" Reprised

 November 2, 2025

   One of my cartoonist heroes is Chester Gould from Ponca City, Oklahoma. He inspired me to create this guy, as a reprise—or homage—from one of his most famous characters:

Daily Whip Out: "Flat Top"

In January, 1946, Chester Gould introduced one of the most famous gadgets in comics history: the two-way wrist radio. Decades later, when real-world smartwatches emerged, journalists credited him with envisioning personal communication technology long before Silicon Valley.

Dick Tracy On The Phone

According to Wikipedia

As America entered the Cold War, his villains transformed from mobsters in the 1930s to corrupt businessmen and mad scientists in the 1960s, but the underlying principle never changed: justice through persistence.

After 46 years, two months, and 21 days of continuous work, Gould retired on Dec.. 25, 1977, at the age of 77. He had produced more than 16,000 daily and Sunday strips.

Chester Gould spent his final years writing columns, giving talks, and supporting local artists in Woodstock, where he was regarded as both neighbor and legend. He died there on May 11, 1985, at the age of 84.

MEANWHILE, A NIGHT AT THE MUSEUM

L to Right: Chief Curator Andrew Patrick Nelson, John Fusco and me

After our talk last night, John Fusco and I motored up to Cattletrack Arts Compound to take in the Dusty Ramblers. . .

A Pass

We had some fun, both of us sitting in on a rousing six minute version of "Gloria" by Them.

"Let me tell you 'bout my baby, you know, she comes around. . ."

(photo by Rob Matiasch)

"She stands 'bout five feet four, from her head to the ground. You know, she comes around here, just about midnite, she makes me feel so good Lord. You know, she makes me feel alright. And her name is G. . .L. . .O. . .R. . l—yi-yi-yi-yi, GLORIA!"

—Van Morrison, Gloria