Wow, woo-hoo, and all that. As some of you may know, I had given up ever finding my last little black book. It would be only the second time I ever lost one. Last one had numerous sketches of minotaurs because, for one thing, I have been a huge fan of Picasso for many years and as you surely know, he depicted a lot of minotaurs. Another reason was an outgrowth of that fascination, i.e., I had written a play called MARATHON, which although set in West Texas, retells the story of Theseus and the Minotaur as a road trip by a dude at loose ends, searching for the father he never had. Some readings, previews and a debut of the play were conducted until the production split apart. I hope to do something with the play (which is my original story and script) with new cast and music, some of which I have written, some being forthcoming.
That’s a big digression. The book with a lot of the Minotaur sketches and Marathon notes disappeared a couple of years ago and I never got it back. The second one to disappear did so around the first of September and vanished so thoroughly there were rumors of it being listed on ebay.
The Little Black Book (LBB) of this story began its return trip home on Thursday, which was the 16th birthday of our son, Dashiell. We bought him a car, a 1995 Volvo 850, which he drove to school by himself Friday and to Lakeway that night, which is possibly why the grey streak in my hair is somewhat more prominent than last week. Today Dashiell washed his car and VOILA, he found my LBB under the seat.
Postpone that call to Interpol.
Places I had searched for it already:
Fort Worth, Texas: Johnny Reno’s house, his studio, his vehicle; and the Federal Archives Center, where I had gone to do more research on my book about the Austin underworld of the 1950s–1970s.
Starbuck’s, Austin: numerous locations
Dominican Joe’s: Since I meet people there at least 3 times a week, it was worth a shot
CopyMax: Another 3-times-a-week stop.
My car, Lois’ car, all over the house and under every cat and inside every gig bag in the house (you could hide a small town library inside my upright bass gig bag).
Anyway, it’s good to have it back. I’d forgotten about some of the in-progress drawings that were in there and had not yet been scanned. Here are the prodigals: