December 28, 2007
Last one in the office. It's four P.M. on Friday and everyone's taken off for the New Year's weekend. Kind of quiet and nice here. Cold out (have my jacket on). Cleaned off my desk this morning. Carole stuck her head in my office and said, "You've been robbed!" She's so funny.

Went home for lunch and had a ham sando and two pickles and an apple. Sat out by the pool in the sunshine to get warm. Been working half-days, going into the office in the morning and then coming home to work in studio, and then back at four to close up shop.

I'm really enjoying the Charlie Schulz biography. He and his first wife Joyce (smitten by The Lone Ranger, she ran away to New Mexico at 18, got pregnant by a charming cowboy named Bill Lewis in Glenwood, New Mexico, got married in Silver City, then he left her. Note to self: I am practically related to a whole gaggle of Lewis's over in eastern New Mexico, actually Crow Flats, and I wonder. . I may know this cad, or his kids?) So, anyway, Joyce goes home to Saint Paul and has a daughter and she's practically ostracized by her snooty Saint Paul relatives. In the meantime she meets Sparkie and they fall in love and get married (she wears black to her wedding, since her family won't let her wear virgin white!) and they move to Colorado Springs to get away from these snobs, where the daughter, Merideth, inspires Schulz to create Lucy Van Pelt, the lynchpin to the whole comic strip he is just getting his sea legs on, but he's such a woosie, he misses his father, so after nine months they move back to Minnesota, and he's just on the verge of becoming a very rich cartoonist. But Man, what a haul he had (and hey, I'm only about half way into the book. We still have a couple more wives and alleged mistresses and a boatload of money to go. Ha.

Having just read the Steve Martin memoir, Born Standing Up, I'm thinking of doing a series on "Hitting It Big: What it takes to make the Big Time." I am very intrigued by the journey these guys made. How did these guys get there? How much was the sacrifice, what was the discipline and exactly what was the originality that made each of them an icon? That is the journey I am interested in. What did they do prior to hitting it big? And what was the breakthrough?

Gee, I wonder if Ol' Whistler has anything to say on this?

An artist is not paid for his labor but for his vision.
—James McNeill Whistler

December 27, 2007
Got several new books in this week: Missing White Girl by Jeffrey J. Mariotte, a border story about a dark world of bizarre supernatural forces. And Johnny-Behind-the-Deuce, Guilty Until Proven Innocent: The True Story of Mike O'Rourke And The Shooting of Philip Schneider by Roy B. Young. And Nantan: The Life & Times of John P. Clum, Volume I: Claverack to Tombstone, 1851-1881 by Gary Ledoux.

One of Deena Bean's oldest friends, Maki Sato, came by last night for dinner. Kathy made turkey and the fixin's and we caught up on her life. She is living in Salt Lake City and going back to college.

Several of my Kingman friends worked at Jordan's Engineering when I lived there and so it was a pleasant surprise to hear from one of the Jordan grandkids, Will Jordan, who now lives in Billings, Montana and is involved as Director of Sales in the Montana Sporting Journal a bi-monthly magazine dedicated to fishing, hunting and gear. Check them out here.

Will wanted to pick my brain about magazine circulation and making it in the biz. Fun talk, and I had plenty of experience to tell on What Not To Do. Ha.

Speaking of online goodies, we have our Official 2008 True West Magazine Reader's Survey up on the website. You can access it on the front page or click here to take survey.

The Skinny On Kinney
"Time you Kingmanites 'fessed up that at one time John Kinney operated a feed lot in your home town."
—Fred Nolan

John Kinney led a band of rogues in 1870s New Mexico, including a young Billy the Kid. Kinney later cleaned up his act and moved to Arizona, but I didn't know he spent time in my hometown (which kind of takes him down another notch). Amazing.

Here's Fred's update: "By his own account, after he was released from jail in 1886 he spent time in El Paso, Tex., Denison, Iowa, (his sister Nora Kinney lived in Crawford County) and Omaha, Neb. before returning to Arizona around 1890. He ran a feed lot in Kingman, and after service in Cuba during the Spanish-American War, mined successfully at Chaparral Gulch in Yavapai county, finally settling at Prescott, where he earned the reputation of being a valued and popular citizen."

"A large section of the intelligentsia seems wholly devoid of intelligence."
—G. K. Chesterton

December 26, 2007
Back in office. Had a very nice Christmas at home. Stayed close to family and the studio stove. Took the dogs out a couple times a day and they frolicked like the dogs they are.

Yesterday we watched the very well produced Semester at Sea video of Kathy's South America trip, and Deena told us stories of her trip to Peru. She and Tommy hiked up to the ancient ruins of Machu Picchu, which is in a "cloud Forest." Very dramatic, as the clouds obliterated everything and then, as Deena described it, "you are standing there, can't see a thing and the clouds give way to the incredible site of the ruins." Also, the locals say that Machu Picchu is the "Seja de la selva" which means the "eyebrow of the jungle." Is that cool, or what? The clouds form the eyebrow of the jungle. Amazing stuff. As it stands, I'm the only member of the family that hasn't been there. Ha.

Here's a sketch done in the chicken house of "Spike", the Silkie Rooster (at left) and "Bea-52" one of J.D.'s last surviving hens. Of course, I have exaggerated their size difference, but not by much:



Really enjoying the new Charlie Schulz (Peanuts) biography. We have quite a bit in common: he was an only child with a Lutheran farmer's side of the family; his mother's name was Dena (our Deena is named for Dena Madison my great Aunt on the Hauan side); his family moved to Needles, California for two years, which is sixty miles from Kingman; both of us entered the "Draw Me!" contest to win a free cartoonist course, we both "won" the right to buy the course for $170; he felt strongly that his hometown (Saint Paul) didn't appreciate his talents; and, he had a severe inferiority complex about being a small-town boy, but he also had a wicked sense of humor about himself:

"I suppose I'm the worst kind of egotist, the kind who pretends to be humble."
—Charlie Schulz

December 25, 2007
Woke up to a bitter wind. Took the dogs up the road and of course, they were as happy as if it was Christmas Day.

Wonderful day at home. Deena and Frank came out, as did James and Aaron Radina and Grandma Betty. I made pancakes and we solved life, gave gifts and played games and went out to take a gander at the chickens (who got all of the leftover pancakes).

Piddled in the studio, read the Schulz bio (Man, that guy's life has some strong parallels to my own) and, mainly, just snuggled in.

"Every day is Christmas Day to a dog."
—Ray Bradbury

December 23, 2007
Quite nippy out this morning. Fed the chickens and went for a bike ride. Started a fire in the studio stove and painted on commissions.

Kathy worked until noon, then we drove into the Beast for an Open House at the Hawkin's on Central. Grand time, great wine and good food (catered by Razz). Lots of prominent Arizonians, as always at the Hawkins.

Got home at around seven. Big day tomorrow. Going to Grandma Betty's at four.

"Behind almost every great man there stands either a good parent or a good teacher."
—Gilbert Highet

"Behind every successful man is a surprised woman."
—Fred Nolan

December 22, 2007
Nice day at home. Worked on two commissions: a Stagecoach Pass painting and Powhattan Clark, for friends in Arkansas who requested the piece.It's also a set piece for Mickey Free.

Also, this afternoon I spent time in the chicken coop sketching the Silkies and Bea-52, the big oldtime bomber hen, who towers over her new condo-mates. Left the inner-door open yesterday and so far they haven't killed each other and seem to be cohabitating. May change, once the liittle Silkie Rooster gets his fight on. Not looking forward to that. He's already a cocky little guy. As I sketched them, I noticed little quirks among them, like one of the Silkies has a crooked beak. I've named him "Bilko" as in, the Phil Silvers' TV character fromthe fifties.

Charlie Waters called and I wished him a happy sixtieth birthday. He's coming down in February for a rehearsal for a big Kingman show we are planning with Scott Dunton and Mike Torres. More on that later.

Going to a Christmas party tonight up in Carefree. They're Kathy's friends and so I'm just arm candy, or, should that be arm-hanger-on? Maybe not.

"Even the woodpecker owes his success to the fact that he uses his head and keeps pecking away until he finishes the job he starts."
—Coleman Cox

December 21, 2007 Bonus Bonus Blog Post
Went home for lunch to check on the chickens. I let the two big hens (the biggest I call Bea-52) out with the six little Silkies and was concerned that they were going to kill the little ones. Nope, just fine, so far. Tricia emailed me and wants to see what they look like, so I'll try and do some sketches this weekend.

Time magazine has named the Coen brother's No Country For Old Men as the top movie of 2007. The film, which started slow at the box office, is hanging in there at number five, chugging along at about $2 mil a week (I think it's at about $33 million). This is good news for us, because we have Tommy Lee Jones on the cover for our next issue (on press even as you read this).

Not so good for our current issue with the Jesse James coverage. The film was gone almost before we got on the newsstand. We still recommend seeing it though, and I just heard the DVD will be out in February and if you love Westerns, this is a must have.

Recently, in The Arizona Republic, a reader described going to Cochise County and Bisbee and how he and his wife enjoyed the history of the area. Then, he added, "I love to read and learn about the Wild West. I am an advocate for the past happenings, as I feel people had more respect for one another back in the 1880s."

What an interesting concept. Do we echo this sentiment enough in True West? We should.

A while back we were talking about Cudia City, which was an Old West movie town built at 40th Street and Camelback in the 1950s. It's long gone now, but it's where they filmed the TV show "26 Men," the show about the Arizona Rangers.

Recently, Steve Lodge was going through some old files and found this photo:



The problem with the location is that it appears to be quite a bit farther south of Camelback Mountain (see, at left, background). This photo seems to be down around Thomas or even further south. I seem to remember Marshall Trimble saying the Mr. Cudia, the man, started with a movie town in another location. Perhaps this is it?

I'm still so irritated by all of the web loose ends. Gee, I wonder what Mr. Lovasik has to say about this?

"Irritability is immaturity of character. If you are subject to being cross and unpleasant with others for no apparent reason, you need to come face-to-face with the fact that you are thinking too much of yourself. After all, your feelings are not the most important thing in this world."
—Lawrence G. Lovasik

December 21, 2007 Bonus Blog Post
Quiet in the office. Besides me, only Robert Ray, Carole Glenn, Samantha Somers, Joel Klasky, Michele Hazut and Sue Lambert are in.

We're still fixing "bugs" from the changeover to the new website. I just tried to log on to the Mickey Free Online site and both Google and AOl say it doesn't exist. Evidently it needs to be "redirected." So frustrating.

Meanwhile, while it's being fixed, let's take another look at the subject of The Top Secret Project:

Mickey Free: Lobo Sin Ojo (The One-Eyed Wolf)


A white boy raised by Apaches--an Apache raised by whites--once brothers in
arms but now deadly enemies. Their true story is a blood-soaked Southwestern
epic that has never before been told before.

By Frederic Sackrider Remington



Freddy Boy was a genius at plein air sketching. Gee, I wonder what Eakins has to say about this?

"The big artist...keeps an eye on nature and steals her tools."
—Thomas Eakins

December 21, 2007
Perused a whole stack of new books yesterday looking for possible Classic Gunfights. Gary A. Wilson's long-awaited Tiger of the Wild bunch: The Life and Death of Harvey 'Kid Curry' Logan is out. I'm taking that home to read.

Woke up to a light sprinkle. Remarkably warm out. Bike ride was a delight. Peaches is limping. Don't know if it's a muscle pull or arthritis (she's 45 in dog years). Still, in spite of the limp, she still gives it a go on the ride back and the daily fence fight with the three-legged Barro dog named Frosty. They meet up at the south end of the Barro property and run back and forth on each side of the fence corner and growl and bare teeth at each other. You'd think they wanted to kill each other but dogs have that lie detector deal going: Frosty is frothing at the mouth, but at the same time is wagging his tail. Ha.

I often get questioned about my old radio partner, Buffalo Rick. What's he doing these days? Well, yesterday we all found out:



Here's a close-up on "The Buff" doing his darndest to make hispanics feel at home in the Valley:



As you may know, I'm not a political guy (as fellow cartoonist Steve Benson aptly puts it, "I'm an equal opportunity offender."), so I was not amused by this "zinger" sent to Carole Glenn from barber-shop quartet leader Allen Fossenkemper:

"Did you see Buffalo Rick Galeaner on the front page of the East Valley Republic today. He was at the illegal migrant rally yesterday harassing the Mexicans. I thought Bob might have been there too since he and Rick are both major right wingers."
—Allen Fossenkemper

Allen,
I couldn't make it to that rally. I was busy saving a beached whale. By the way, Ted Kennedy says hi.

BBB

"If anyone speaks badly of you, live so none will believe it."
—Old Vaquero Saying

December 20, 2007 Bonus Blog Post
Okay, let's play catch-up and post some of the backlog from the past week:



Here's a series of stacked panels (above) inspired by a sketch I did last week. Not finished, but it has potential.



This is a Mickey Free scene "Climbing Up Through The Clouds," (above) poached from one of the photos Deena took at Machu Pichu, which is actually in a "cloud forest," in Peru, which I didn't know until last night when she was telling about how dramatic it was to go to this dramatic site.



And this is a simple scene of "Ratcliff Ridge," (above) which is the saguaro clad hill to the east of our house.



And, finally, here's the "Mysterious Woman On The Train to Regret." But she's not half as regretful as I am for ruining this subtle window scene. As it is, it could either be Laguna Pueblo in snow, or Regretville in snow. Take your pick.

Gee, I wonder of Ed has anything to add to this?

"You cannot explore the darkness by flooding it with light."
—Edward Abbey

December 20, 2007
I had a wonderful birthday party last night at our secluded adobe ranchito. Kathy whipped up a fabulous batch of chicken-fried-steaks (Texan Carole Compton taught her the recipe), complete with mashed potatoes, corn bread and green beans. Oh, and don't forget cornbread gravy. Carole Glenn gave me a bottle of Brut champaigne and a banana creme pie. Deena told Peru stories and Frank told Rhode Island roommate stories. The Deana Bean gave me the new bio Schulz And Peanuts, and I started reading it last night. Really an incredible story of a barber's son from Saint Paul (those Minnesota boys!) who ended up making $64 million a year drawing and inking his little four panels on Charlie Brown and friends. Charlie Schulz ended up doing 17,897 strips all by himself. I remember in the 1990s when neighbor Jerry Scott (Zits and Baby Blues) told me that one time at a cartoonist convention, Jerry and several other cartoonists were complaining about the work load of doing a strip every day (Jerry was doing two strips a day!) and the pros and cons of hiring inkers and others to "ghost" the strip, and Charlie Schulz weighed in and told these youngsters that he thought this was ridiculous, making his point by asking them, "What are you going to do next, pay someone to golf for you?"

A brilliant boy, he was.

Well, it's been a week and they tell me I can finally post images again (Frankly, I'd like to put all the Safari and Firefox people in a room and see who comes out alive). Okay, here we go:



This is a scratchboard of regret (see Cézanne quote on Dec. 14 post). A mysterious woman is riding on a train. Out the frosted window we see—something. I'm going to work on this some more and see what else we can see (a move I'll probably regret). Ha.

Thanks for all the birthday greetings. Here's one I particularly enjoyed:

Owner of chicken chasing dog,
Hilarious writer of a daily blog.

Absolutely no question, a Master of art,
But apparently a pain to a certain Kingman tart.

Let your pen & brush always lead the way,
I hope you had an amazing birthday.

and many, many more!

—Ray Geier

"Do you remember the last time anyone was terrorized by agnostic fundamentalists?"
—Dave Shulman

December 19, 2007 Bonus Blog Post
Got a couple Birthday greetings and words of advice. First the advice:

"Don't let yourself forget what it's like to be sixteen."
—Carole Compton Glenn

"When people ask how old you are, say, 'I'm almost sixty."
—Daniel Harshberger

Ha. Like Roger Maris, I just hit sixty-one (and without any Barry Bonds-style artificial enhancement, although I have bulked out in recent years).

Rock Around The Frock?
"BBB Having hard time getting thru to your blog. Happy Birthday!!!!!! I don't know how old you are, but I remember you telling me when you were a kid in Iowa, you use to watch Dick Clark's first show: 'Colonial Bandstand'. Merry Christmas also. Santa Claus-out!"
—Minnesota Mike

Pony Up Old Man
"Happy birthday to you—the best friend any kid from Kingman could ever hope to have. Hope your headache(s) go(es) away and that you get some chicken fried steak for dinner. I sent Kathy an e-mail yesterday, telling her that Linda and I would be glad to make a modest contribution to the Buddy Boze Hatkiller pony fund. You realize, I hope, that she is actually much funnier than you. :-)"
—Charlie Waters

FYI: both Charlie and Dan Harshberger just turned sixty, so they can't use the "almost" line. Ha.

Yes, I'm taking the afternoon off and my "funnier" wife is making me my fave dish— chicken-fried-steak for dinner. My daughter Deena, and her beau Frank are coming out. Makes me feel kind of famous. Gee, I wonder what Waldo has to say about that?

"Fame is proof that people are gullible."
—Ralph Waldo Emerson

December 19, 2007
I've got a roaring headache (on my birthday!) mainly from the web conflict between Safari and Firefox and a half dozen other browsers, platforms and scuzzy wuzzy-terms I can't keep straight or remember. We've got dueling IT guys all pointing at each other and blaming one or the other browser. I've got blog readers who are complaining that the new web settings are crashing their computers. I was told to start publishing my posts in Firefox but when I do it doesn't recognize quote marks, dashes or apostrophes and puts in question marks. So I have gone back to posting in Safari. The Firefox guys claim Safari is on the way out. Shades of Beta vs. VHS (and the irony there is that VHS won the battle, but lost the war to BlueRay or whatever else has come along).

Meanwhile, I still can't post images on the blog.

Other than that I'm having a great birthday.

“I’m from USA Today so I’ll be brief.”
—David Colton, USA Today’s Page-one editor

December 18, 2007 Bonus Blog Post
Cleaned off a shelf in my studio and found a whole bunch of computer stuff, like floppys and scuzzy cords and old Quark Xpress manuals and discs. Put them in a box and brought them in for Robert Ray to peruse and see if any of it is even usable now (it has been eight years you know). Robert laughed at all the "floppys", so 1990s.

Speaking of the nineties, while cleaning off the shelf I found a desk calendar for 1992, with "funny sayings" for each day. I burned most of them for kindling in the studio stove, but I did pull a couple:

Dated Humor Doesn't Travel Very Well

What did Tennesse?

Same thing Arkansas.

Screw Up de Jour At Your Service
"Glad you decided to continue the BLOG. It makes me feel good to read it and know someone else screws up like I do.
— James (Butch) Speer, Lifetime Maniac # 1534

"Make yourself an honest man, and then you may be sure there is one less rascal in the world."
—Thomas Carlyle

December 18, 2007
I'm reading Life Among The Apaches, by John C. Cremony. This is one of a series in the "Time-Life Classics of The Old West" published in 1981 from the 1868 edition. It's funny, but even the reprint is now fading into the past and is considered an antique.

My main interest is in the Battle of Apache Pass, which we are featuring in the next Classic Gunfights. Excellent narrative from Cremony, riding with the California Column, as they arrive at the San Pedro (probably about where Benson, Arizona is today). He describes an eerie incident. During a violent thunder shower, as Cremony is hunkered down in the stage station near the banks of the San Pedro, one of his detachment comes in and wakes him up at "about two o'clock A.M." The sergeant of the guard informed him that "strange lights were visible, coming down the hills on the west, north and south sides."

As the soldiers snuff all the lights and prepare for attack, Cremony notes "seven or eight more lights made their appearance, and seemed to be carried by persons walking at a rapid pace." After a tense hour and a half wait, the lights "gradually united and faded away toward the east."

A full year later, Cremony learned what he and his men had witnessed. Apache runners were dispatched throughout the area carrying torches, "which would indicate that the aid of all within sight was required." The scattered torches led the swelling forces of Apaches who would descend on the troops at Apache Pass.

Simply amazing, and a spectacular sight to put on film, but I don't recall ever seeing this in a Western.

Just got this news story from the TSW:

I Married Wyatt Earp (A New Musical)!

The musical was staged at the CSUF Performing Arts Center, Young Theatre, Fullerton, CA This exciting new musical mystery is a "creative nonfictional" West Coast premiere with an all-female cast blending a shocking and haunting ghost story with terrific songs. Phone: (714) 278-3371

It's always quite astounding to me how people can take the same old stuff and spin it out in new directions. I guess that's what imagination is all about. Gee, I wonder if Francis Bacon has anything to say about this?

"Imagination was given to man to compensate him for what he is not; a sense of humor to console him for what he is."
—Francis Bacon

December 17, 2007
Had to drive down into the Beast this morning for a Channel 8 Documentary they are doing on "Phoenix In The Seventies." The producer, John Booth, is interviewing "oldtimers" who were actually alive then, and involved with KDKB, New Times or The Razz Revue. I was intimately involved with all three and it took John about an hour just to shut me up. Then, as if the BS could not get any deeper, they brought in Wonderful Russ and we did a tag team interview, with both Russ and I on camera. We discussed, among other historical moments, "Googing Out" (Russ and I liked to go to Googies afterhours and entertain the late night diners), Russ posing as an FBI agent to "bust" William Edward Compton, and how Russ ran for governor (his slogan: "He Knows What Arizona Needs" and Dan Harshberger photographed him in front of the State House holding an enema bag). Lots of laughs all around.

Got back out to Cave Creek and the office at about 1:30. No lunch, went right into a job interview with a copy writer I met at an art show last Thursday in Phoenix.

Talked on the phone to Sammy Armstrong of the Las Vegas Buffalo Soldiers. We are going to be taping new episodes of "Gunfight of The Week" for the Outdoor Channel in January, and I want to do the Wham Payroll Robbery where Isiah Mays earned the Medal of Honor. Sammy has about 30 guys, eight who ride. Should work.

Received an early birthday present from The Top Secret Writer. Inside a big box were two Golden Creme Cakes (better known as Twinkies, Hutton's idea of health food) and a bitchin' "MaFrlane's Monsters III: 6 Faces Of Madness—Billy the Kid." Thanks TSW, or as he's better known, PAH! You can see the kid in all his madness at spawn.com

Meanwhile, in the Christmas mail, Meghan Saar and I both received Chile Creams, made by Senor Murphy, the Santa Fe Candymaker, from our zany contributor and friend, Johnny Boggs. Thanks Johnny!

I have a ton of new artwork to show you but we're still working out the bugs on the new website blog site, and they tell me it should be back in full running order soon. All weekend I stoked the stove in the studio, painted and scratched on about six scratchboards. Oh, and I took a couple naps. Gee, I wonder if the Old Vaqueros have anything to say about that?

"A good rest is half the work."
—Old Vaquero Saying

December 16, 2007
Wonderful day at home today. Hauled in wood for the studio stove and kept it stoked all day. Worked on a variety of scratchboard scenes, even starting a gouache cloud scene.

Lots to show and tell, but the images aren't showing up yet. Hopefully the new website bugs and logistics will be straightened out soon.

I'm reading Edgar Rice Burroughs for inspiration (and good action writing to steal from). Edgar supposedly spent some time in Phoenix in the early 1900s before he hit it big with Tarzan.

"Skirts may change, but human nature never."
—Edgar Rice Burroughs, Tarzan At The Earth's Core

December 15, 2007
Got the third bid on the roof repair today. Floyd Rivera, Jr. of R&F Roofing showed up at noon, got out his ladder and tromped around on the roof while I stoked the fire in the studio and fretted over an ambitious scratchboard for Mickey Free that's looking like three shades of regret at the moment.

The first bid we got for the roof repair was $5K, the second $2K. I heard Floyd coming down the ladder so I walked out and said, "Okay, give me the damage."

"Floyd said, "Are you Bob Boze Bell?" When I admitted to as much he said, "I grew up in Wickenburg and have lived here all my life. Hell, I'll fix that leaky scupper for $250 and patch a couple of those bad spots to boot."

"Is that it?" I asked him suspiciously. "Yep," he said with a big smile. "You don't need some big, expensive roof job right now." Then he shrugged and added, "I guess I'm not much of a salesman."

"Yes, you are," I assured him. "I want you to fix the scupper, and when it's time to do the roof again, for the long dollar, I want you to do it."

I got two issues of True West out of my truck while Floyd wrote up the bid. As we traded paper, he told me he was talking about me just the other night: "We were watching the Westerns Channel and my wife said, 'There's Bob Boze Bell,' and my ten-year-old son said, 'Who's that?' and I told him 'He's an oldtimer, you don't hear too much about him anymore.'"

I took one of the magazines back and sent him on his way.

Not really.

Bitter cold out today. Been hauling wood into the studio all morning and stoking the fire. Buddy Boze Hatkiller is alseep on his ugly orange barka-lounger, with, no doubt, images of pet Shetlands running in his head.

Phone just rang (1:30 PM) and it was Hugh O'Brian ("Personal friend of mine," as Steve Martin would say with that mock Vegas schmoozee-tone of voice). We talked about the SASS show last weekend and then he asked if I sold any Wyatt Earp giclees. I told him we didn't and explained that after my brief book signing, I noticed the art prints sitting on the checkout table behind the counter. I reminded Hugh his wife is a saint, he blessed me and said goodbye. Do you think Hugh was lonesome for his old friend "Booze" or was he fishing for a commission?

I'm going to assume the best and go with the commission. Ha. Still, it's a total hoot to look on the caller ID and see the name "Hugh O'Brian." I keep wanting to call my grandmother, Louise Guess Swafford, who I watched The Life & Times of Wyatt Earp with in 1957, but she has been gone a long time. Still, I have to believe she is somewhere up there smiling and shaking her head at the absurdity of it all.

"That's right grandma, I predict I'm going to meet that guy in fifty years and he's going to gig me for $700 on the sale of a giclee series I'm going to produce of his likeness!"

“The season of failure is the best time for sowing the seeds of success.”
—Old Vaquero Saying

December 14, 2007 Bonus Blog Post
A long time blog reader, Lee, corrected me in an email saying the label "Bonus Blog" is like saying I'm creating another universe. Still, I like the alliteration, so sue me.

We just launched our new, interactive website this morning and there have been some bugs. Sorry if you tried to access this blog in the A.M. as it was not there. Now (3:40 P.M.) it's up, but none of the images are there. According to Trish Brink, who has been in touch with the I.T. guy, who's travelling in South America, it should "populate" any time now.

Went home for lunch and met a roofing guy about several leaks on our flat roof. Turns out our wooden vegas (the poles that stick out from an adobe style home) are shrinking and the water is going in through there and they all need to be refitted. He wants $2K. As I told him, "So do I."

Nice guy though. Another roofer coming out tomorrow for a bid as well.

As you probably know, Buddy Boze Hatkiller has a mind all his own. On our morning bike rides, I can't go all the way to the end of Old Stage Road if the million dollar women on the ten-thousand-dollar horses are in the arena. Why? Because Buddy runs in among them and "plays" with the horses, barking and circling them all. We've worn out two shock collars trying to get him to heel, but to no avail. When some of Kathy's horse friends found out she is the owner of the notorious "horse hater," one of the women sneered, "You're lucky someone doesn't shoot that dog." Just the way the woman said "that dog," it was obvious what our horse neighbors would like to do to that dog-gone ex-New Yorker.

So the other morning as we were waking up, Kathy groggily said, "I know what I'm going to get Buddy for Christmas." When I asked what that would be, she said with some finality, "A pony."

I laughed until I cried. The idea of a little Shetland pony tied up in the backyard, for Buddy to circle and bark at til the cows come home, well, let's just say it made my day.

Buddy's Little Pony arrives tomorrow.

Just kidding.

Received a gaggle of artist quotes from someone who reads this blog (Jeff, Scott, Art himself?) and one of these quotes really got my attention this afternoon. This led to the following scratchboard:

The emotion is regret and I think Mr. Cezanne has a point. It's starting to work. And, I intend to work it some more and as I do, I'll publish the results (probably with some regret).

"A work of art which did not begin in emotion is not art."
—Paul Cézanne

December 14, 2007
Cold out. Still have my jacket on at work. Only four of us in this morning: Sue Lambert, Joel Klasky, Samantha Somers and me. Everyone else is out Christmas shopping!

One way to guage a good book is if it stays with you and agitates you long after you've finished it. I have been mulling several passages in Exit Ghost. The author, Philip Roth, injects, a real, live (actually dead) person, George Plimpton, (Paper Tiger, remember, he's the guy who boxed with Archie Moore, actually ran a play as a quarterback in the NFL, etc. and then wrote about it). According to Roth’s account, George wrote a book called Shadow Box (published in 1977), where he interviewed his literary friends about how they fantasized dying. Art Buchwald told Plimpton he “fancied himself dropping dead on the center court at Wimbledon during the men’s final—at the age of ninety-three.” Norman Mailer "seemed fondest of being killed by an animal—if on land, a lion; if at sea, a whale.” Plimpton himself fantasized about dying at Yankee Stadium, as a batter beaned by a “villainous man with a beard. . .”

Here’s the paragraph where Roth nails the whole shootin’ match:

“Humorously and unusually—that’s how George and his friends imagined themselves dying back before they believed they would, back when dying was just another idea to have fun with. ‘Oh, there’s death too!’ But the death of George Plimpton was neither humorous nor unusual. It was no fantasy either. He died not in pinstripes at Yankee Stadium but in his pajamas in his sleep. He died as we all do: a rank amateur.”

Wow!

And here's Roth's take on doing battle with youngsters:

“In taking on the young and courting all the dangers of someone of this age [he’s 71] intermingling too closely with people of that age, I can only end up bloodied, a big fat target of a scar for unknowing youth, savage with health and armed to the teeth with time.”
—Philip Roth, Exit Ghost

Speaking of being a big, fat target:

Poor Me, The Kingmanite
Been following your skewering by the Kingman bloggers. Congratulations on a very classy and resilient response. When you referred to the Kingmanites it reminded me of Desmond Dekker and The Aces, "The Israelites," amended:

Get up in the morning, slaving for bread, sir
So that every mouth can be fed
Poor me, the Kingmanite

My wife and my kids, they are packed up and leave me
Darling, she said, I was yours to be seen
Poor me, the Kingmanite

Shirt them a-tear up, trousers are gone
I dont want to end up like Bonnie and Clyde
Poor me, the Kingmanite

After a storm there must be a calm
They catch me in the farm You sound the alarm
Poor me, the Kingmanite

Poor me, the Kingmanite
I wonder who Im working for
Poor me, Kingmanite
I look a-down and out, sir

Here's another theory:

“Joan what's her name might just be a troll although trolls don't usually post under their real name. A troll is someone who likes to go online for the specific purpose of finding someone to harass and cajole via rude and nasty comments on their blog or via emails or as response to online newsgroup/bulletin board posts. Their entire reward is knowing they got your goat and received a response to their rudeness. The saying is "don't feed the trolls" which means: ignore them and they will go away. You also don't have to share all the responses you get to your posts unless you want to...”
—Lee

Okay, I'll keep that in mind.

My neighbor Charlene Yager just dropped off her photos of the big John Deere tractor-fest we had last week. Here's a shot of me and Diesel (he's two) and Christa Barro going for a spin.



“I just found out I’m vain. I thought that song was about me.”
—Steve Martin