April 3, 2009
Dan Harshberger sent me the link to the Kingman Daily Miner's coverage of the Exits Exit event we held last weekend:
Kingman Miner
Dan and I laughed about one of the lines in the article. See if you can tell which one.
Hint: Evidently not everyone is happy with my performance or my survival.
Friday, April 03, 2009
April 3, 2009
I often cast characters in my graphic novels based on an old fashioned cattle call. I go through my many Old West photo books and look for a type to match the character. Case in point:
In the Mickey Free story, the Apache Kid comes into San Carlos after killing a man he believed was responsible for his father's death. At around five o'clock on June 1, 1887 the Kid and other scouts came riding in. As Phyllis de la Garza puts it in her excellent book, The Apache Kid, "Tired, guilty, nervous, the sullen group approached headquarters while other scouts in camp, Agency employees, and military personnel watched with much interest since the absence of the scouts had been the 'big talk' around the place for nearly a week."
A blacksmith, Edward Arhelger, formerly of Texas, turned to Frank Porter, the farm boss, and said, "Frank, that looks like old times. I believe we're going to have some fun here tonight."
Oh, did they ever. As a result of the melee that followed, Chief of Scouts Al Sieber ended up crippled for life from a wound he believed the Apache Kid was responsible for.
So, to set up this scene in the graphic novel, my cattle call is for two grizzled men, one a blacksmith and the other the "farm boss" at San Carlos. Here are the first seven candidates:
The trick, as I see it, is not to do Gabby Hays, or the cliche Hollywood townsman. And, I want good hats on both of them. I kind of dig the cap for the blacksmith and the farm boss probably is going to be wearing something similiar to the guy at top, or the guy below him, at right (the Teddy Roosevelt looking guy).
"Persistence plus failure equals success."
—Mitchell B. Huhem
I often cast characters in my graphic novels based on an old fashioned cattle call. I go through my many Old West photo books and look for a type to match the character. Case in point:
In the Mickey Free story, the Apache Kid comes into San Carlos after killing a man he believed was responsible for his father's death. At around five o'clock on June 1, 1887 the Kid and other scouts came riding in. As Phyllis de la Garza puts it in her excellent book, The Apache Kid, "Tired, guilty, nervous, the sullen group approached headquarters while other scouts in camp, Agency employees, and military personnel watched with much interest since the absence of the scouts had been the 'big talk' around the place for nearly a week."
A blacksmith, Edward Arhelger, formerly of Texas, turned to Frank Porter, the farm boss, and said, "Frank, that looks like old times. I believe we're going to have some fun here tonight."
Oh, did they ever. As a result of the melee that followed, Chief of Scouts Al Sieber ended up crippled for life from a wound he believed the Apache Kid was responsible for.
So, to set up this scene in the graphic novel, my cattle call is for two grizzled men, one a blacksmith and the other the "farm boss" at San Carlos. Here are the first seven candidates:
The trick, as I see it, is not to do Gabby Hays, or the cliche Hollywood townsman. And, I want good hats on both of them. I kind of dig the cap for the blacksmith and the farm boss probably is going to be wearing something similiar to the guy at top, or the guy below him, at right (the Teddy Roosevelt looking guy).
"Persistence plus failure equals success."
—Mitchell B. Huhem
April 3, 2009
A friend of mine in Bullhead City thought their musuem might have an original Charlie Russell painting. When I was in Kingman last weekend, I took a good look at the framed image. Although it appeared quite authentic with painterly strokes (it was definitely a Russell and not a knockoff) and was on canvas, it was the wrong size. The original painting "Free Trappers" done in 1911 is 33X24 inches and this one was smaller. Probably a print done in giclee, a process where a print is glued right onto a canvas to make it appear like a real painting. As these techniques become more sophisticated, it certainly is going to become more difficult to spot the real deal. Reminds me of the scene in Blade Runner where the only way to spot a cyborg is to use a magnifying glass on the pupil of their eye. Otherwise they easily pass for human.
Speaking of humans and Charlie Russell, as I studied the many Charlie Russells in the Raisonne book I was using to verify the painting, I began to notice the same guy in several paintings. Here are a few of them, which I studied for my daily sketches:
It's no secret that as artists we tend to draw ourselves more often than not and evidently the Cowboy Artist was no exception. From Rawhide Rawlins (middle guy, rolling his own) to the stage robber (lower left) Charlie had a distinctive stance he leaned on in his paintings and illustrations, and, I must say, he did it well.
"You can't let praise or criticism get to you. It's a weakness to get caught up in either one."
—John Wooden
A friend of mine in Bullhead City thought their musuem might have an original Charlie Russell painting. When I was in Kingman last weekend, I took a good look at the framed image. Although it appeared quite authentic with painterly strokes (it was definitely a Russell and not a knockoff) and was on canvas, it was the wrong size. The original painting "Free Trappers" done in 1911 is 33X24 inches and this one was smaller. Probably a print done in giclee, a process where a print is glued right onto a canvas to make it appear like a real painting. As these techniques become more sophisticated, it certainly is going to become more difficult to spot the real deal. Reminds me of the scene in Blade Runner where the only way to spot a cyborg is to use a magnifying glass on the pupil of their eye. Otherwise they easily pass for human.
Speaking of humans and Charlie Russell, as I studied the many Charlie Russells in the Raisonne book I was using to verify the painting, I began to notice the same guy in several paintings. Here are a few of them, which I studied for my daily sketches:
It's no secret that as artists we tend to draw ourselves more often than not and evidently the Cowboy Artist was no exception. From Rawhide Rawlins (middle guy, rolling his own) to the stage robber (lower left) Charlie had a distinctive stance he leaned on in his paintings and illustrations, and, I must say, he did it well.
"You can't let praise or criticism get to you. It's a weakness to get caught up in either one."
—John Wooden
April, 2, 2009
I had a visit with my heart doctor this morning. Went very well. Afterwards, Kathy and I met at Chompies' for lunch and I ran into an old KSLX Jones & Boze Show fan while waiting for a table. Larry told me he thought the best thing we ever did was the April Fools' Indian Uprising Show. I thought about it for a moment and said, "You know I think that show was twenty years ago yesterday."
Amazing. Speaking of blasts from the past, got this from fellow KSLX DJ Andy Olson:
Hi Bob,
I wanted to let you know the Love Workshop Box Set is ready to ship. I just need your address to send you a copy. Also, when you post about it in your blog, please let everybody know they can pick it up through Radio Free Phoenix.
Here's the url:
http://radiofreephoenix.com/loveworkshopcd.html
Thanks, I appreciate it!
—Andy
"I bet a real big problem in Yodeling class is people just coming and yodeling right off the bat. You see, we build to that."
—Jack Handey
I had a visit with my heart doctor this morning. Went very well. Afterwards, Kathy and I met at Chompies' for lunch and I ran into an old KSLX Jones & Boze Show fan while waiting for a table. Larry told me he thought the best thing we ever did was the April Fools' Indian Uprising Show. I thought about it for a moment and said, "You know I think that show was twenty years ago yesterday."
Amazing. Speaking of blasts from the past, got this from fellow KSLX DJ Andy Olson:
Hi Bob,
I wanted to let you know the Love Workshop Box Set is ready to ship. I just need your address to send you a copy. Also, when you post about it in your blog, please let everybody know they can pick it up through Radio Free Phoenix.
Here's the url:
http://radiofreephoenix.com/loveworkshopcd.html
Thanks, I appreciate it!
—Andy
"I bet a real big problem in Yodeling class is people just coming and yodeling right off the bat. You see, we build to that."
—Jack Handey
April 1, 2009
Just got off the phone for a radio interview with Greg Martin of the Northwest Ag Info Network, servicing 70 radio stations from Idaho, Washington, Oregon and part of Northern California. We were talking about pioneer farmers and ranchers and how hard they had it in the "good ol' days." Here's their site:
www.aginfo.net
Dan DeWeese has an idea to do high school and college sports mascots based on, or inspired by the Old West. For example Pistol Pete is the New Mexico State mascot. He got in trouble last week in Reno and was suspended by the Western Athletic Conference for one game for scuffling with Utah State's Big Blue at the WAC Tournament. The bull ripped off Pete's fake mustache on a $100 dare and the gunfighter chased the bull to half court, jumped on his back and tried to choke the bull.
Let's hear it for all the Old West mascots. I seem to remember one of the Yuma schools had "The Criminals"? as a mascot, based on the old Yuma Territorial Prison. What other mascots are there like this?
Talked to Hugh O'Brian the other day. He invited me to his 84th birthday party later this month, but I'm going to be in New Mexico on a plein air painting trip. Here's the sketch I did, while we talked on the phone:
Meanwhile, here are six of the sketches I did in Kingman:
Yes, that's the Kingman Train Station at the top, done from a historic photo that was in our motel room (#134) of King's Inn. The Hualapai Mountains were done from memory even though I could have easily gone out the door to see them.
On Sunday Kathy and I visited with Charlie Waters' family up at his sister Julie's pad, then we drove out to Red Ghost Ranch to see DeeAnn Harshberger's new baby.
"My way of joking is to tell the truth. It is the funniest joke in the world."
—George Bernard Shaw
Just got off the phone for a radio interview with Greg Martin of the Northwest Ag Info Network, servicing 70 radio stations from Idaho, Washington, Oregon and part of Northern California. We were talking about pioneer farmers and ranchers and how hard they had it in the "good ol' days." Here's their site:
www.aginfo.net
Dan DeWeese has an idea to do high school and college sports mascots based on, or inspired by the Old West. For example Pistol Pete is the New Mexico State mascot. He got in trouble last week in Reno and was suspended by the Western Athletic Conference for one game for scuffling with Utah State's Big Blue at the WAC Tournament. The bull ripped off Pete's fake mustache on a $100 dare and the gunfighter chased the bull to half court, jumped on his back and tried to choke the bull.
Let's hear it for all the Old West mascots. I seem to remember one of the Yuma schools had "The Criminals"? as a mascot, based on the old Yuma Territorial Prison. What other mascots are there like this?
Talked to Hugh O'Brian the other day. He invited me to his 84th birthday party later this month, but I'm going to be in New Mexico on a plein air painting trip. Here's the sketch I did, while we talked on the phone:
Meanwhile, here are six of the sketches I did in Kingman:
Yes, that's the Kingman Train Station at the top, done from a historic photo that was in our motel room (#134) of King's Inn. The Hualapai Mountains were done from memory even though I could have easily gone out the door to see them.
On Sunday Kathy and I visited with Charlie Waters' family up at his sister Julie's pad, then we drove out to Red Ghost Ranch to see DeeAnn Harshberger's new baby.
"My way of joking is to tell the truth. It is the funniest joke in the world."
—George Bernard Shaw
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
March 31, 2009
On Saturday morning, bandmate Wayne Rutschman and I decided to walk from the King's Inn to the final rehearsal at the Fairgrounds. Crossing Old Route 66 we walked straight into Ricca Drive (the very first subdivision in Kingman) and, of course, as we walked, we began pointing out the houses where many of the coolest girls in Kingman lived when we were in high school. Among the houses we pointed out, were the houses of Michele Gilpin, Gail Nash, Debbie Dunton, Karen Cooper, Linda Whiting, Barbara Finn, Cathy Swift, Judy Gillespie and Doris and Di Wells. Those are just a few if the honeys two old ex-horndogs could remember:
These girls, I mean women, who are pictured here were poached straight out of my high school annuals and even though I didn't try extra hard to portray any one individual, I think more than a few will recognize themselves. And, for the record, not all of them lived on Ricca Drive (like Ms. Torres).
Speaking of high school annuals, I know I am in the minority but I have never been fond of tattoos. When my kids were about ten I did a very devious thing: I showed them all the beehive hairdos in my high school annual and asked them if they thought the dos were hip. "It's ridiculous and hideous!" they both said, at the same time trying to run from the room. I went and got them and said, "We thought this fashion was the coolest and would never change." Then, I added this: "Imagine if all of us were stuck with this same hairdo today? Would that be a curse?" Oh, YES! they said without reservation.
"Well, if you get a tattoo, this is what you're going to look like in about twenty years."
So far, neither kid has a tattoo (that I know of).
"All is fair in love and child rearing."
—Old Parent Rationalization
On Saturday morning, bandmate Wayne Rutschman and I decided to walk from the King's Inn to the final rehearsal at the Fairgrounds. Crossing Old Route 66 we walked straight into Ricca Drive (the very first subdivision in Kingman) and, of course, as we walked, we began pointing out the houses where many of the coolest girls in Kingman lived when we were in high school. Among the houses we pointed out, were the houses of Michele Gilpin, Gail Nash, Debbie Dunton, Karen Cooper, Linda Whiting, Barbara Finn, Cathy Swift, Judy Gillespie and Doris and Di Wells. Those are just a few if the honeys two old ex-horndogs could remember:
These girls, I mean women, who are pictured here were poached straight out of my high school annuals and even though I didn't try extra hard to portray any one individual, I think more than a few will recognize themselves. And, for the record, not all of them lived on Ricca Drive (like Ms. Torres).
Speaking of high school annuals, I know I am in the minority but I have never been fond of tattoos. When my kids were about ten I did a very devious thing: I showed them all the beehive hairdos in my high school annual and asked them if they thought the dos were hip. "It's ridiculous and hideous!" they both said, at the same time trying to run from the room. I went and got them and said, "We thought this fashion was the coolest and would never change." Then, I added this: "Imagine if all of us were stuck with this same hairdo today? Would that be a curse?" Oh, YES! they said without reservation.
"Well, if you get a tattoo, this is what you're going to look like in about twenty years."
So far, neither kid has a tattoo (that I know of).
"All is fair in love and child rearing."
—Old Parent Rationalization
March 31, 2009
Here are two photos taken from an iPhone of the opening at the Kingman Fairgrounds last Saturday night. The woman at left, is a hospital administrator who looked in our high school annual and came to the Exits Exit dressed exactly like Dorian Trahan. She had a bow in her hair and everything:
After hobbling onstage, the band went into "Route 66" and I did my patented Mick Jagger meets Where The Action Is moves:
Mike Torres' sister Be Be took these photos. And yes, the band is wearing hospital scrubs.
"Goes to Saint Louie, Joplin, Missouri, Oklahoma City looks oh so pretty, and see Amarillo, Gallup, New Mexico. Flagstaff, Arizona, don't forget Winona, Bixlo, Barstow, San Bernadino."
—Mick Jagger's version of "Route 66" (leaving out Kingman altogether)
Here are two photos taken from an iPhone of the opening at the Kingman Fairgrounds last Saturday night. The woman at left, is a hospital administrator who looked in our high school annual and came to the Exits Exit dressed exactly like Dorian Trahan. She had a bow in her hair and everything:
After hobbling onstage, the band went into "Route 66" and I did my patented Mick Jagger meets Where The Action Is moves:
Mike Torres' sister Be Be took these photos. And yes, the band is wearing hospital scrubs.
"Goes to Saint Louie, Joplin, Missouri, Oklahoma City looks oh so pretty, and see Amarillo, Gallup, New Mexico. Flagstaff, Arizona, don't forget Winona, Bixlo, Barstow, San Bernadino."
—Mick Jagger's version of "Route 66" (leaving out Kingman altogether)
Monday, March 30, 2009
March 30, 2009
The ceiling lights of the ambulance looked vaguely familiar, but the oxygen mask fogged my glasses, blurring out everything. I felt my heart beat quicken as the driver hit the siren. The attendant leaned over me and said, "The last time we did this you had no pulse and no heartbeat."
I knew one thing: it was D J View, all over again.
I heard the sliding doors rake open as the gurney jiggled and then lurched onto cement. I could hear gasps and then clapping—then major Kingman style hooting. We turned a corner then slid to a stop.
A paramedic on my left side yelled out, "We have a 61-year-old male heart attack patient. What do you want us to do with him?"
I heard Charlie Waters say over the microphone, "Is there a doctor in the house?" Several voices in the crowd yelled out for Dr. Michael Ward.
More hooting.
I felt a stethoscope on my chest and a finger on my eyelid, arching it up.
"He's good to go!" the doctor said loudly.
One of the firemen took off my oxygen mask and another took off the IV. I stood up and put on my glasses. The firemen removed my hospital gown to reveal my freshly ironed Exits jacket which we bought in Vegas in 1964. In front of me I saw every pretty girl I ever had a crush on in high school, standing not fifteen feet from me and they all had that look that said, "If I was thirty years younger I'd have your baby!"
I thought to myself, "Yes, and if I was thirty years younger, I'd have an erection."
From there I tried to get up on the stage but I couldn't, so Wayne Rutschman held out his hand and helped me up. As I hobbled to the microphone, Charlie Waters said, "Glad you could make it." And Steve Burford said snidely, "Yeh, but you're late."
The assembled Exit bandmates, 13 in all, then slammed into "Route 66" and we brought down the house, raising some $20,000 (after expenses) for Kingman Regional Hospital to buy more defibrillators in order to save more wretches just like me.
"Deja vu is when you think you have already experienced a present situation, but D J View is reliving an experience you had no business surviving the first time."
—Old Drummer Saying
The ceiling lights of the ambulance looked vaguely familiar, but the oxygen mask fogged my glasses, blurring out everything. I felt my heart beat quicken as the driver hit the siren. The attendant leaned over me and said, "The last time we did this you had no pulse and no heartbeat."
I knew one thing: it was D J View, all over again.
I heard the sliding doors rake open as the gurney jiggled and then lurched onto cement. I could hear gasps and then clapping—then major Kingman style hooting. We turned a corner then slid to a stop.
A paramedic on my left side yelled out, "We have a 61-year-old male heart attack patient. What do you want us to do with him?"
I heard Charlie Waters say over the microphone, "Is there a doctor in the house?" Several voices in the crowd yelled out for Dr. Michael Ward.
More hooting.
I felt a stethoscope on my chest and a finger on my eyelid, arching it up.
"He's good to go!" the doctor said loudly.
One of the firemen took off my oxygen mask and another took off the IV. I stood up and put on my glasses. The firemen removed my hospital gown to reveal my freshly ironed Exits jacket which we bought in Vegas in 1964. In front of me I saw every pretty girl I ever had a crush on in high school, standing not fifteen feet from me and they all had that look that said, "If I was thirty years younger I'd have your baby!"
I thought to myself, "Yes, and if I was thirty years younger, I'd have an erection."
From there I tried to get up on the stage but I couldn't, so Wayne Rutschman held out his hand and helped me up. As I hobbled to the microphone, Charlie Waters said, "Glad you could make it." And Steve Burford said snidely, "Yeh, but you're late."
The assembled Exit bandmates, 13 in all, then slammed into "Route 66" and we brought down the house, raising some $20,000 (after expenses) for Kingman Regional Hospital to buy more defibrillators in order to save more wretches just like me.
"Deja vu is when you think you have already experienced a present situation, but D J View is reliving an experience you had no business surviving the first time."
—Old Drummer Saying
Friday, March 27, 2009
March 27, 2009
Kathy and I are hitting the road this morning for Kingman. The big fundraiser for Kingman Regional Hospital is tomorrow night at the Kingman Fairgrounds. They have sold 600 tickets and are expecting 700 people, which would make it the biggest crowd the Exits ever played for.
I have been practicing every day, for three days. Ha. Going to wear my heart monitor to the rehearsal this afternoon and make sure I don't repeat Wipeout.
Last night, Mad Coyote Joe and I MC'd the 11th Annual Bachelor and Bachelorette Auction at Harold's Cave Creek Corral and I was talking to the band before the gig and Joe, of course, told the Boze-Almost-Died-While-Playing-Wipeout story and the kid (who first played a guitar in public on our old radio show "Live From The Mineshaft, The Jones & Boze Show" when he was 15) thought that was the coolest thing.
"Death has a sexy allure in youth which fades with age."
—Old Drummer Saying
Kathy and I are hitting the road this morning for Kingman. The big fundraiser for Kingman Regional Hospital is tomorrow night at the Kingman Fairgrounds. They have sold 600 tickets and are expecting 700 people, which would make it the biggest crowd the Exits ever played for.
I have been practicing every day, for three days. Ha. Going to wear my heart monitor to the rehearsal this afternoon and make sure I don't repeat Wipeout.
Last night, Mad Coyote Joe and I MC'd the 11th Annual Bachelor and Bachelorette Auction at Harold's Cave Creek Corral and I was talking to the band before the gig and Joe, of course, told the Boze-Almost-Died-While-Playing-Wipeout story and the kid (who first played a guitar in public on our old radio show "Live From The Mineshaft, The Jones & Boze Show" when he was 15) thought that was the coolest thing.
"Death has a sexy allure in youth which fades with age."
—Old Drummer Saying
Thursday, March 26, 2009
March 26, 2009
Went home for lunch and whipped out a cool little piece on Mickey Free's contentious relationship with his jack mule:
This, by the way, was a daily occurrence for the Mickster. Whenever he set out on the trail, his combative mule always gave him a chance at a blue sky experience. The name of the painting is: "Damn You Tu!" (Free called his mule Tu, which is Spanish for "you".)
Been studying a book "Masters of American Comics" which was published in conjunction with the Hammer Museum and the Museum of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles. Taken by the power of blocks of black:
Yes, that's Chester Gould (Dick Tracy), Jack Kirby, Milton Caniff (Steve Canyon), Chris Ware (Jimmy Corrigan, The Smartest Kid On Earth)
And these are sketches are 8,416 thru 8,423. Ah, you say you want a revolution?
"If you want to start a revolution, start a magazine."
—V.I. Lennin
Went home for lunch and whipped out a cool little piece on Mickey Free's contentious relationship with his jack mule:
This, by the way, was a daily occurrence for the Mickster. Whenever he set out on the trail, his combative mule always gave him a chance at a blue sky experience. The name of the painting is: "Damn You Tu!" (Free called his mule Tu, which is Spanish for "you".)
Been studying a book "Masters of American Comics" which was published in conjunction with the Hammer Museum and the Museum of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles. Taken by the power of blocks of black:
Yes, that's Chester Gould (Dick Tracy), Jack Kirby, Milton Caniff (Steve Canyon), Chris Ware (Jimmy Corrigan, The Smartest Kid On Earth)
And these are sketches are 8,416 thru 8,423. Ah, you say you want a revolution?
"If you want to start a revolution, start a magazine."
—V.I. Lennin
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
March 25, 2009
Carole Glenn often gives us feedback on the phones so we can guage our reader's temperature. Here is a call she took today:
News From The Front Lines
Laura N. called to renew her subscription today. After she completed this, she asked Lynda to speak to a supervisor and Lynda put her through to me. Laura was laid off last September from her job with Toyota as Customer Service Specialist. She wanted us to know that Lynda was very sincere and had qualities you just can’t teach people.
Laura said she couldn’t afford to pay her rent, but couldn’t stand the thought of not receiving TW, so renewed her subscription.
She also mentioned that she really likes the cooking section in the magazine and especially likes that Sherry keeps it “true” by using ingredients that were used in the old west. She said that she hopes we will keep this authentic and not doll it up as some other publications have.
—Carole Glenn
"Sometimes holding on makes you stronger; sometimes letting go does."
—Old Vaquero Saying
Carole Glenn often gives us feedback on the phones so we can guage our reader's temperature. Here is a call she took today:
News From The Front Lines
Laura N. called to renew her subscription today. After she completed this, she asked Lynda to speak to a supervisor and Lynda put her through to me. Laura was laid off last September from her job with Toyota as Customer Service Specialist. She wanted us to know that Lynda was very sincere and had qualities you just can’t teach people.
Laura said she couldn’t afford to pay her rent, but couldn’t stand the thought of not receiving TW, so renewed her subscription.
She also mentioned that she really likes the cooking section in the magazine and especially likes that Sherry keeps it “true” by using ingredients that were used in the old west. She said that she hopes we will keep this authentic and not doll it up as some other publications have.
—Carole Glenn
"Sometimes holding on makes you stronger; sometimes letting go does."
—Old Vaquero Saying
March 25, 2009
I did something last night that I haven't done for the past 367 days: I got my drums out and actually laid some licks on them. The last time I did this was on March 22, 2008 at the Old Elks Lodge in Kingman. Didn't have the heart to do Wipeout, yet.
Ha.
The benefit concert to raise money for Kingman Regional Hospital is this Saturday night at the Fairgrounds.
We're having a big debate here at the magazine on how to monetize content. As newspapers and magazine all around us bite the dust, the industry conversation sounds like this:
Samir "Mr. Magazine" Husni (in Publishing Executive magazine) claims "Print is not dead—its publishing model is." He goes on to say, "We have to reinvent our publishing model. We have to continue to create that great content we are known for, but we have to charge for it. It is time for our publishing model to depend once again on circulation as a major source of revenue. We have to be in the business of selling content."
Of course he doesn't say how to do it, but he points to Consumer Reports and Cook's Illustrated as each having 1 million paid circ online.
He ends with "The illness has been diagnosed: It is the publishing model and not the ink on paper. . .It is time to find a cure. Long live print."
"You can't let praise or criticism get to you. It's a weakness to get caught up in either one."
—John Wooden
I did something last night that I haven't done for the past 367 days: I got my drums out and actually laid some licks on them. The last time I did this was on March 22, 2008 at the Old Elks Lodge in Kingman. Didn't have the heart to do Wipeout, yet.
Ha.
The benefit concert to raise money for Kingman Regional Hospital is this Saturday night at the Fairgrounds.
We're having a big debate here at the magazine on how to monetize content. As newspapers and magazine all around us bite the dust, the industry conversation sounds like this:
Samir "Mr. Magazine" Husni (in Publishing Executive magazine) claims "Print is not dead—its publishing model is." He goes on to say, "We have to reinvent our publishing model. We have to continue to create that great content we are known for, but we have to charge for it. It is time for our publishing model to depend once again on circulation as a major source of revenue. We have to be in the business of selling content."
Of course he doesn't say how to do it, but he points to Consumer Reports and Cook's Illustrated as each having 1 million paid circ online.
He ends with "The illness has been diagnosed: It is the publishing model and not the ink on paper. . .It is time to find a cure. Long live print."
"You can't let praise or criticism get to you. It's a weakness to get caught up in either one."
—John Wooden
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
March 24, 2009
When Shoot magazine went out of business last year, we took over their subscription list to honor the remaining issues owed to subscribers. I received this email from a former Shoot subscriber:
On Mar 23, 2009, at 9:00 PM, Hugh Macmillan wrote:
Dear Bob,
64 years ago, in England where I was born, I fell in love. Which may seem a little strange as I was only 10 years old at the time. The object of my affection was Western movies. Every Saturday morning I would climb onto a Number 13 bus and pay the conductor my fare of one penny. Clutching my sixpenny-piece for the movie ticket, I willed the big red double decker along the Edgware Road to the Odeon Cinema just as speedily as traffic would allow. Many trades used horses to power their deliveries in those days, and often a coal-monger or brewery cart, drawn by their magnificent teams of Shires or Clydesdales would slow my progress. But beautiful as they were, it was Silver and Trigger I really wanted to see.
Cowboys have always been my heroes, my role models, and the age-old conflict between good and evil that has been the basis of staged entertainment for millennia appealed enormously.
The war ended, my father went to live in Africa, and in 1948 I followed him. 60 years went by, and although I was able to collect and shoot a variety of guns, there was no call for 44.40 or 45 caliber single action sixguns, or Winchester 73s or simple side-by-side coachguns. Africa was all about self-protection, hunting the Big Five, and following visits by the late great Col. Jeff Cooper - practical pistol shooting. Then came the birth (rebirth?) of Cowboy Action, and from 13 thousand miles away I joined SASS. In my spare moments I would take out my SASS badge, pin it on my shirt, and take my Ruger Old Army cap and ball pistol to the nearest range. Alone and in my seventies, while shooting round holes in a piece of paper supported by bits of wire in the center of an old tire, I relived moments from many decades earlier, priceless moments with Gene, Roy, The Lone Ranger, Tonto and the other heroes of my youth.
I'm now 74 and LIving in San Antonio, where my wife and I hope to spend the rest of our lives. I belong to two CAS clubs. I have a beautiful pair of USFA Rodeos in 45 cal., a Uberti replica of the 73, and a TTN coachgun. I'd love a single shot rifle in 45-70, but my pension won't allow it. The fact that macular degeneration has robbed me of all central vision in my right eye is a nuisance, but I'm fine with the Rodeos. Folks do comment about my stretching my head across the stocks of my long guns to enable left eye sighting and right hand shooting! I explain that I'm way past trying to become left handed - especially with a lever gun.
Why this letter? Well. I wanted to subscribe to a magazine that supported my favorite past time, and took a year's worth of Shoot! You know the rest of the story. I just want to express my gratitude to you for taking over Shoot subscribers and for giving us a more comprehensive magazine. Your sense of history, depth of knowledge, scope of coverage, and the fine illustrations in True West go way beyond guns (without excluding them) and offer all who love the Old West precious moments of peace! Yes, peace can come even from action filled times. The peace of a simpler life. A time when the good guys wore white hats and a little boy on a London bus found joy in The Cowboy Way.
Thanks for all that you do. Best regards,
—Hugh, aka Longshadow SASS#70099
"The secret of success in life is for a man to be ready for his opportunity when it comes."
—Benjamin Disraeli
When Shoot magazine went out of business last year, we took over their subscription list to honor the remaining issues owed to subscribers. I received this email from a former Shoot subscriber:
On Mar 23, 2009, at 9:00 PM, Hugh Macmillan wrote:
Dear Bob,
64 years ago, in England where I was born, I fell in love. Which may seem a little strange as I was only 10 years old at the time. The object of my affection was Western movies. Every Saturday morning I would climb onto a Number 13 bus and pay the conductor my fare of one penny. Clutching my sixpenny-piece for the movie ticket, I willed the big red double decker along the Edgware Road to the Odeon Cinema just as speedily as traffic would allow. Many trades used horses to power their deliveries in those days, and often a coal-monger or brewery cart, drawn by their magnificent teams of Shires or Clydesdales would slow my progress. But beautiful as they were, it was Silver and Trigger I really wanted to see.
Cowboys have always been my heroes, my role models, and the age-old conflict between good and evil that has been the basis of staged entertainment for millennia appealed enormously.
The war ended, my father went to live in Africa, and in 1948 I followed him. 60 years went by, and although I was able to collect and shoot a variety of guns, there was no call for 44.40 or 45 caliber single action sixguns, or Winchester 73s or simple side-by-side coachguns. Africa was all about self-protection, hunting the Big Five, and following visits by the late great Col. Jeff Cooper - practical pistol shooting. Then came the birth (rebirth?) of Cowboy Action, and from 13 thousand miles away I joined SASS. In my spare moments I would take out my SASS badge, pin it on my shirt, and take my Ruger Old Army cap and ball pistol to the nearest range. Alone and in my seventies, while shooting round holes in a piece of paper supported by bits of wire in the center of an old tire, I relived moments from many decades earlier, priceless moments with Gene, Roy, The Lone Ranger, Tonto and the other heroes of my youth.
I'm now 74 and LIving in San Antonio, where my wife and I hope to spend the rest of our lives. I belong to two CAS clubs. I have a beautiful pair of USFA Rodeos in 45 cal., a Uberti replica of the 73, and a TTN coachgun. I'd love a single shot rifle in 45-70, but my pension won't allow it. The fact that macular degeneration has robbed me of all central vision in my right eye is a nuisance, but I'm fine with the Rodeos. Folks do comment about my stretching my head across the stocks of my long guns to enable left eye sighting and right hand shooting! I explain that I'm way past trying to become left handed - especially with a lever gun.
Why this letter? Well. I wanted to subscribe to a magazine that supported my favorite past time, and took a year's worth of Shoot! You know the rest of the story. I just want to express my gratitude to you for taking over Shoot subscribers and for giving us a more comprehensive magazine. Your sense of history, depth of knowledge, scope of coverage, and the fine illustrations in True West go way beyond guns (without excluding them) and offer all who love the Old West precious moments of peace! Yes, peace can come even from action filled times. The peace of a simpler life. A time when the good guys wore white hats and a little boy on a London bus found joy in The Cowboy Way.
Thanks for all that you do. Best regards,
—Hugh, aka Longshadow SASS#70099
"The secret of success in life is for a man to be ready for his opportunity when it comes."
—Benjamin Disraeli
March 24, 2009
We get so far out front of ourselves that I often lose track of where we are. Case in point: May is at the printer and we are working on parts of June and July and September issues. Someone at Festival of the West asked me about the Alamo and I had to stop and think if that is already out, or if it's something we are working on, or something we did two years ago (the Alamo piece is at the printer).
I finished Tom Lea's "The Wonderful Country" on Sunday. Hated for it to end (always a sign of a good read). Really enjoyed the Mexico sojourn passages, like this:
"Martin Brady had breakfast by a farmhouse door at dawn, three leagues from Chihuahua. The taste of the greasy gordas the woman gave him and the stale coffee, stuck sour in his throat. His bones ached unrested, he felt dizzy from the long motion of his ride, and his eyes stung. When he had given the woman a real, he went to the well in the farmyard and from a leaky bucket dashed water on his face. Then he mounted Lagrimas and rode tired, on a tired horse, toward the city."
Lea gets the grind of a long ride really good and he has the feed and care of horses down to poetry. And by the way, Brady's horse is named Lagrimas, which means "tears", as in crying, in Spanish. Of course there's lots of Mexico in Frederic Remington and his drawings for Mickey Free:
And, by the way, the woman with Bruce Dern at Festival of the West looked quite a bit like NASCAR driver Jeff Gordon's main squeeze:
Just got off the phone with Joey Dillon and he is Josh Brolin's gun and tomahawk coach on the new Jonah Hex, which goes before the cameras on April 1. Joey tells me this one is going to be "bad ass." Joey is also in line to coach another graphic novel-headed-for-the-big-screen, Caliber.
I've been told the difference between heaven and hell can be quite minor. Case in point:
Heaven is Where:
The Police are British,
The Chefs are Italian,
The Mechanics are German,
The Lovers are French
and
It's all organized by the Swiss.
Hell is Where:
The Police are German,
The Chefs are British,
The Mechanics are French,
The Lovers are Swiss
and
It's all organized by the Italians.
That pretty much says it all, eh?
"My treasures do not chink or glitter, they gleam in the sun and neigh in the night."
—Old Vaquero Saying
We get so far out front of ourselves that I often lose track of where we are. Case in point: May is at the printer and we are working on parts of June and July and September issues. Someone at Festival of the West asked me about the Alamo and I had to stop and think if that is already out, or if it's something we are working on, or something we did two years ago (the Alamo piece is at the printer).
I finished Tom Lea's "The Wonderful Country" on Sunday. Hated for it to end (always a sign of a good read). Really enjoyed the Mexico sojourn passages, like this:
"Martin Brady had breakfast by a farmhouse door at dawn, three leagues from Chihuahua. The taste of the greasy gordas the woman gave him and the stale coffee, stuck sour in his throat. His bones ached unrested, he felt dizzy from the long motion of his ride, and his eyes stung. When he had given the woman a real, he went to the well in the farmyard and from a leaky bucket dashed water on his face. Then he mounted Lagrimas and rode tired, on a tired horse, toward the city."
Lea gets the grind of a long ride really good and he has the feed and care of horses down to poetry. And by the way, Brady's horse is named Lagrimas, which means "tears", as in crying, in Spanish. Of course there's lots of Mexico in Frederic Remington and his drawings for Mickey Free:
And, by the way, the woman with Bruce Dern at Festival of the West looked quite a bit like NASCAR driver Jeff Gordon's main squeeze:
Just got off the phone with Joey Dillon and he is Josh Brolin's gun and tomahawk coach on the new Jonah Hex, which goes before the cameras on April 1. Joey tells me this one is going to be "bad ass." Joey is also in line to coach another graphic novel-headed-for-the-big-screen, Caliber.
I've been told the difference between heaven and hell can be quite minor. Case in point:
Heaven is Where:
The Police are British,
The Chefs are Italian,
The Mechanics are German,
The Lovers are French
and
It's all organized by the Swiss.
Hell is Where:
The Police are German,
The Chefs are British,
The Mechanics are French,
The Lovers are Swiss
and
It's all organized by the Italians.
That pretty much says it all, eh?
"My treasures do not chink or glitter, they gleam in the sun and neigh in the night."
—Old Vaquero Saying
Monday, March 23, 2009
March 23, 2009
Got the word yesterday that the Top Secret Writer was in the hospital for the past two days. He's had pneumonia for eight weeks (he wasn't feeling well last weekend when we hiked to Cottonwood Springs but he was hoping this was the end of it). He didn't get better and Tracy Lee was driving Hutton to the emergency room when he passed out. They had him on a drip. He told me from his room, "I can be this miserable at home." Got a Blackberry message this afternoon that he's going home tonight.
I told him he couldn't die now because we are so close to finishing the Mickey Free project (see below). He agreed, but he's so damned stubborn and besides, he rarely listens to me anyway.
Had lunch today with cowboy Bill Dunn of Alberta, Canada. He and his lovely wife drove down for Festival of the West and he came out to Cave Creek to get the tour. Took him to El Encanto and we both had the chicken mole enchiladas.
After lunch with Bill I went home and finished a portrait of Major Bullis:
This is for the end section of the Mickey Free book where we talk about what happened to everyone. All of Bullis's improvements to San Carlos were wiped out when San Carlos Dam flooded the post. Notice his portrait is faded because of a huge watermark. Too heavy handed? Perhaps, but this is the nuance I love in Old West stories, excuse me, Old West graphic novels.
"There are some things we can only achieve by a deliberate leap in the opposite direction."
—Franz Kafka
Got the word yesterday that the Top Secret Writer was in the hospital for the past two days. He's had pneumonia for eight weeks (he wasn't feeling well last weekend when we hiked to Cottonwood Springs but he was hoping this was the end of it). He didn't get better and Tracy Lee was driving Hutton to the emergency room when he passed out. They had him on a drip. He told me from his room, "I can be this miserable at home." Got a Blackberry message this afternoon that he's going home tonight.
I told him he couldn't die now because we are so close to finishing the Mickey Free project (see below). He agreed, but he's so damned stubborn and besides, he rarely listens to me anyway.
Had lunch today with cowboy Bill Dunn of Alberta, Canada. He and his lovely wife drove down for Festival of the West and he came out to Cave Creek to get the tour. Took him to El Encanto and we both had the chicken mole enchiladas.
After lunch with Bill I went home and finished a portrait of Major Bullis:
This is for the end section of the Mickey Free book where we talk about what happened to everyone. All of Bullis's improvements to San Carlos were wiped out when San Carlos Dam flooded the post. Notice his portrait is faded because of a huge watermark. Too heavy handed? Perhaps, but this is the nuance I love in Old West stories, excuse me, Old West graphic novels.
"There are some things we can only achieve by a deliberate leap in the opposite direction."
—Franz Kafka
March 23, 2009
On Saturday, we gathered at two in the Green Room, behind the main stage at Festival of the West. It was a pretty stellar group back there with Bruce Dern and his statuesque female partner, Rex Allen, Jr., Johnny Western and Jessie Colter (the widow of Waylon Jennings and a performer in her own right). The new mayor of Scottsdale and the Police Chief were also there.
Bruce Dern's partner pulled a power move on Mary (founder of the festival) and more or less demanded to be moved up in the lineup, because as she later told someone standing near me, "We are both working." This stunt came off as major snotty and pretentious, since it clearly implied that we weren't working and had no where else to be. Needless to say, as beautiful as she was, she lost major points with me. Mary had to quickly rejuggle the entire lineup to cater to her wishes, and Bruce went on first.
While we were waiting to go on, I went over to introduce myself to Rex Allen, Jr. (I knew his father) but he gave me the brush off. He was clearly irritated at something. Turns out a musician out on the stage was playing an instrumental version of Rex's hit "I Love You Arizona" and he said with some disgust, "What am I supposed to do when I go out?" I told him I knew exactly what he should do. He asked what that was, and I said, "Play 'Louie Louie'".
He didn't think that was funny. I'm guessing he also doesn't think it's funny that a guy who lives in Nashville is famous for singing a song called "I Love You Arizona." On that, he and I would agree. I don't think it's funny either. Irritating. But not funny.
Back at our booth, Sheri Riley wanted to meet Hugh O'Brian, so I took her over to where Hugh and his wife Virginia were seated, selling publicity photos, and to be a good sport I bought a picture of Hugh as Kusac:
He signed it and I paid him $20, then Sheri wanted a photo, so he invited her back around to kneel by him and I took a phone photo. Then Hugh wanted a photo of me and him (he said to Clint Walker, "Have you met my son?" pointing at me). He's such a character. When Sheri stepped back and took a photo, he barked, "Closer!" So she came in close and took this shot:
Robert Fuller came by our booth asking for Henry Cabot Beck, our Westerns editor. Fuller wanted us to pass along the message that Beck's interview with the star of Laramie, Wagon Train, Emergency and Walker, Texas Ranger was the best interview he has had in the last 15 years. The interview is in our April Travel issue of True West.
"You play the hand you're dealt. I think the game's worthwhile."
—Christopher Reeve
On Saturday, we gathered at two in the Green Room, behind the main stage at Festival of the West. It was a pretty stellar group back there with Bruce Dern and his statuesque female partner, Rex Allen, Jr., Johnny Western and Jessie Colter (the widow of Waylon Jennings and a performer in her own right). The new mayor of Scottsdale and the Police Chief were also there.
Bruce Dern's partner pulled a power move on Mary (founder of the festival) and more or less demanded to be moved up in the lineup, because as she later told someone standing near me, "We are both working." This stunt came off as major snotty and pretentious, since it clearly implied that we weren't working and had no where else to be. Needless to say, as beautiful as she was, she lost major points with me. Mary had to quickly rejuggle the entire lineup to cater to her wishes, and Bruce went on first.
While we were waiting to go on, I went over to introduce myself to Rex Allen, Jr. (I knew his father) but he gave me the brush off. He was clearly irritated at something. Turns out a musician out on the stage was playing an instrumental version of Rex's hit "I Love You Arizona" and he said with some disgust, "What am I supposed to do when I go out?" I told him I knew exactly what he should do. He asked what that was, and I said, "Play 'Louie Louie'".
He didn't think that was funny. I'm guessing he also doesn't think it's funny that a guy who lives in Nashville is famous for singing a song called "I Love You Arizona." On that, he and I would agree. I don't think it's funny either. Irritating. But not funny.
Back at our booth, Sheri Riley wanted to meet Hugh O'Brian, so I took her over to where Hugh and his wife Virginia were seated, selling publicity photos, and to be a good sport I bought a picture of Hugh as Kusac:
He signed it and I paid him $20, then Sheri wanted a photo, so he invited her back around to kneel by him and I took a phone photo. Then Hugh wanted a photo of me and him (he said to Clint Walker, "Have you met my son?" pointing at me). He's such a character. When Sheri stepped back and took a photo, he barked, "Closer!" So she came in close and took this shot:
Robert Fuller came by our booth asking for Henry Cabot Beck, our Westerns editor. Fuller wanted us to pass along the message that Beck's interview with the star of Laramie, Wagon Train, Emergency and Walker, Texas Ranger was the best interview he has had in the last 15 years. The interview is in our April Travel issue of True West.
"You play the hand you're dealt. I think the game's worthwhile."
—Christopher Reeve
Sunday, March 22, 2009
March 22, 2009
It was a year ago today. Believe me when I say that I perused today's obits with extra interest. All of those fine people (there were multiple pages) lived through March 22 of last year, but didn't make it to this anniversary. For some strange reason through a bizarre series of flukes (and some great friends), I did.
As if it was a staged event, yesterday at Festival of The West was a massive love fest. Literally hundreds of fans walked up to our booth all day long, shook my hand and said one of two things: "Thanks for all you do to keep the West alive," and, "Are you feeling better?"
Many scolded me: "Slow down. We need you!" and others were more specific: "Try raw chocolate. It lowers your blockage." Others were project specific: "I'm glad you lived because I am going to help you get Mickey Free on the big screen. Yes, Mickey Rourke is perfect for Mickey, I want David Carradine for Sieber. You've got to lower the size of Mick's mule. 18-hands is too high. That's six feet. Make it fifteen hands and we'll get 'er done."
Two African-American couples from Los Angeles literally shrieked, "It's Bob Boze Bell," came over and asked to have their pictures taken with me. They were all decked out in Western bling and they told me they watch the Westerns Channel every day. (note to Jeff Hildebrandt: if the response to all of the comments exactly like this are any indication, your ratings must be stellar).
Of course it wasn't all sunshine. I did get into a disagreement with Bruce Dern, Hugh O'Brian was his usual bombastic self and I thought Rex Allen, Jr. was a bit of a jerk. More on that later.
"By giving us the opinions of the uneducated, [journalism] keeps us in touch with the ignorance of
the community."
—Oscar Wilde
It was a year ago today. Believe me when I say that I perused today's obits with extra interest. All of those fine people (there were multiple pages) lived through March 22 of last year, but didn't make it to this anniversary. For some strange reason through a bizarre series of flukes (and some great friends), I did.
As if it was a staged event, yesterday at Festival of The West was a massive love fest. Literally hundreds of fans walked up to our booth all day long, shook my hand and said one of two things: "Thanks for all you do to keep the West alive," and, "Are you feeling better?"
Many scolded me: "Slow down. We need you!" and others were more specific: "Try raw chocolate. It lowers your blockage." Others were project specific: "I'm glad you lived because I am going to help you get Mickey Free on the big screen. Yes, Mickey Rourke is perfect for Mickey, I want David Carradine for Sieber. You've got to lower the size of Mick's mule. 18-hands is too high. That's six feet. Make it fifteen hands and we'll get 'er done."
Two African-American couples from Los Angeles literally shrieked, "It's Bob Boze Bell," came over and asked to have their pictures taken with me. They were all decked out in Western bling and they told me they watch the Westerns Channel every day. (note to Jeff Hildebrandt: if the response to all of the comments exactly like this are any indication, your ratings must be stellar).
Of course it wasn't all sunshine. I did get into a disagreement with Bruce Dern, Hugh O'Brian was his usual bombastic self and I thought Rex Allen, Jr. was a bit of a jerk. More on that later.
"By giving us the opinions of the uneducated, [journalism] keeps us in touch with the ignorance of
the community."
—Oscar Wilde
Friday, March 20, 2009
March 20, 2009
Going to my Wallace speech in about ten minutes, then over to Westworld for an appearance at Festival of The West.
Worked last night on a clean scratchboard style for the Mickey Free book:
More later.
"The function of the press in society is to inform, but its role in society is to make money."
—A. J. Liebling
Going to my Wallace speech in about ten minutes, then over to Westworld for an appearance at Festival of The West.
Worked last night on a clean scratchboard style for the Mickey Free book:
More later.
"The function of the press in society is to inform, but its role in society is to make money."
—A. J. Liebling
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
March 18, 2009
In meetings most of the day, developing a new category for True West. We flew in an experienced editor from Minneapolis who is an expert on the category and we discussed ways to make it pay (i.e. mo' ads).
Trish and Michelle are on their way to Festival of the West to set up our booth down at Westworld. It runs thru Sunday. I'll be out there all day Saturday.
Yesterday, I got a phone message: "Bob, this is Wallace. Call me." I thought to myself, hmmmmm, there is only one person I know with the first name Wallace and he did a legendary kid show with Ladmo for thirty years. He left a number. I called it, and asked to speak to Wallace. It was him. He wants me to come speak to his group of friends down at the old Bud Brown's Barn on Friday. I'm going.
The May issue goes out the door in about an hour. Kind of quiet in the office. Robert Ray brought in a homemade trifle and I had some of that.
Got this from our movie editor, Henry Beck, yesterday:
By the way, Lee Marvin's estate in Tucson—7000 sq ft house, 12 acres, Joseas Jessler design, is up for sale. She was asking 6mil but has dropped that a bit. Wanna split the difference?
Lee Marvin's estate, check it out.
When I lived in the Old Pueblo, I ran into Lee on South Fourth Avenue in the mid-seventies. He was just an old guy in a white t-shirt, cordial, but kind of shy, or, standoff-ish.
Just the other night I saw him on The Westerns Channel in "Pocket Money" which was filmed in Tucson around that time. I remember not liking the movie at the time. Paul Newman plays an airhead cowboy trying to buy Mexcian cattle for a crooked cattle dealer (Struther Martin). Lee Marvin plays a shifty, blow hard gringo in Mexico and he is just brilliant. It must be age dependant (written for people of a certain age) because I thought it was great this time around.
Ex-employee and current friend, Rob Bandhauer dropped by the office and gave me a present:
Thanks Rob.
"History is not life. But since only life makes history, the union of the two is obvious."
—Louis D. Brandels
In meetings most of the day, developing a new category for True West. We flew in an experienced editor from Minneapolis who is an expert on the category and we discussed ways to make it pay (i.e. mo' ads).
Trish and Michelle are on their way to Festival of the West to set up our booth down at Westworld. It runs thru Sunday. I'll be out there all day Saturday.
Yesterday, I got a phone message: "Bob, this is Wallace. Call me." I thought to myself, hmmmmm, there is only one person I know with the first name Wallace and he did a legendary kid show with Ladmo for thirty years. He left a number. I called it, and asked to speak to Wallace. It was him. He wants me to come speak to his group of friends down at the old Bud Brown's Barn on Friday. I'm going.
The May issue goes out the door in about an hour. Kind of quiet in the office. Robert Ray brought in a homemade trifle and I had some of that.
Got this from our movie editor, Henry Beck, yesterday:
By the way, Lee Marvin's estate in Tucson—7000 sq ft house, 12 acres, Joseas Jessler design, is up for sale. She was asking 6mil but has dropped that a bit. Wanna split the difference?
Lee Marvin's estate, check it out.
When I lived in the Old Pueblo, I ran into Lee on South Fourth Avenue in the mid-seventies. He was just an old guy in a white t-shirt, cordial, but kind of shy, or, standoff-ish.
Just the other night I saw him on The Westerns Channel in "Pocket Money" which was filmed in Tucson around that time. I remember not liking the movie at the time. Paul Newman plays an airhead cowboy trying to buy Mexcian cattle for a crooked cattle dealer (Struther Martin). Lee Marvin plays a shifty, blow hard gringo in Mexico and he is just brilliant. It must be age dependant (written for people of a certain age) because I thought it was great this time around.
Ex-employee and current friend, Rob Bandhauer dropped by the office and gave me a present:
Thanks Rob.
"History is not life. But since only life makes history, the union of the two is obvious."
—Louis D. Brandels
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
March 17, 2009
I have been in a funk all day. I went to yoga this morning and just couldn't stop kicking myself for blowing that Alamo cover painting. We did a half-a-happy-baby pose, but I wasn't a very happy baby. That scene was so sweet in my mind's eye and I just cartooned it.
Damn it all! I just hate being so incompetent.
Meanwhile, our water heater sprang a leak last night so I had to go home after yoga and wait for the plumber. I took the opportunity to paint on a larger version of the cover, hoping to save it. Couldn't finish it, so, paid the plumber ($576 house account) and came back into the office.
Deep inside the beast, Dan Harshberger was tweaking my painting in his computer and, unbeknownst to me, adding another sky color and punching up the Burger King sign glow:
Amazing. Now THAT is a decent cover! It certainly pays to have talented friends. Congrats Dan. You are the Man. Now I'm a happy baby.
"An oldtimer is someone who can remember every detail of his life story, but can't remember how many times he's told it to the same person."
—Old Vaquero Saying
I have been in a funk all day. I went to yoga this morning and just couldn't stop kicking myself for blowing that Alamo cover painting. We did a half-a-happy-baby pose, but I wasn't a very happy baby. That scene was so sweet in my mind's eye and I just cartooned it.
Damn it all! I just hate being so incompetent.
Meanwhile, our water heater sprang a leak last night so I had to go home after yoga and wait for the plumber. I took the opportunity to paint on a larger version of the cover, hoping to save it. Couldn't finish it, so, paid the plumber ($576 house account) and came back into the office.
Deep inside the beast, Dan Harshberger was tweaking my painting in his computer and, unbeknownst to me, adding another sky color and punching up the Burger King sign glow:
Amazing. Now THAT is a decent cover! It certainly pays to have talented friends. Congrats Dan. You are the Man. Now I'm a happy baby.
"An oldtimer is someone who can remember every detail of his life story, but can't remember how many times he's told it to the same person."
—Old Vaquero Saying
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