Spending a lot of time lately trying to avoid the news, hoping I will wake up and this madness about a new war in the Middle East being some kind of poorly written SNL skit or something. Or maybe our president and secretary of state have come down with a severe case of food poisoning, a leftover CIA plot from the sixties that didn’t work on Castro but some rogue agents decided to try on our current commander in chief. Because it can’t be real.
Slaving away on the book, the book I haven’t told you the name of just yet, and in the meantime, here’s some works in progress of the visual type.
I’m not finished with the above one yet… I think I’ll put the can of mermaids in a new setting, like a garden of Eden setting, or maybe a table at Enoteca. Maybe I’ll consult Alan Lazarus about it. He’s a creative guy with a visual flair.
Have I mentioned the upcoming Tertulia at the Continental Club Gallery? The theme is Safety, and it’s Thursday, Sept. 12, 7:30-9. I’ll be reading with my lovely wife, Lois Richwine, in her acting debut. The piece is called “He & She in the Underworld.”
The full roster of presenters is:
David Jewell, James McMurtry, Margaret Moser, Jon Dee Graham, Jesse Sublett, Lois Richwine, Kacy Crowley, Dianne Scott, Kellie Salome, William Graham, Nettie Reynolds, Mike McCoy, Bernadette Noll, Katie Ford, Laura Buchanan, Chris Porter, Payton Keller, & Jena Kirkpatrick.
I’ll bring copies of my latest novel, GRAVE DIGGER BLUES, so that any of you slackers who’ve been dying to buy one to enrich your soul and guarantee that beautiful, exotic women / men will want to take you home for lunch and make you their love slave for as long as you desire, and you can buy a signed copy (of the book, silly) for only $20.
Here, a few paragraphs from the current book in progress:
Sometimes it seemed as though every Austinite of a certain age claimed to have information about the Overton Gang. Even random details can be of value, but more often than anything else, every new informant was dying to tell me the following story. Even when I assured them that I already knew all about it, nearly every one of them insisted on telling it anyway.
During the first six weeks of the 1968 federal conspiracy trial in Del Rio, Tim and 12 other defendants were held without bail in the county jail. Between court sessions, Tim and the other 12 were locked up in the cramped holding cell in the bottom of the federal courthouse. During the daily consultations with their lawyers, Judy’s attorney, Max Flusche, would bring her down there and keep an eye out for the jailer while Judy took care of Tim’s needs. To accommodate him, she would back up to the cell, drop her panties and bend over for him, every day, in front of the other lawyers, prisoners, God and everybody.
“He’d screw her between the bars and we’d jigger for them,” said Vern Knickerbocker, attorney for Freddie Hedges and two other defendants in the ’68 trial. He banged his fist on the table every time he laughed at one of these stories.
I asked him, “How close were you?”
“Close enough to see her tattoos,” he said. “I saw them many times.”
I’m not sure where I’m going with this one.
I don’t think I’ve posted the two versions of “Olive Trees, St. Remy d’Pce”, except from dim photos I took, as opposed to nicer scans. Anyway, here they are.
And then there’s this one. The title should be obvious.