It seemed funny, such a place being in such close proximity to Ned's mom's house and the swanky wedding reception at the B&B just down the street. I invested a few bucks in the porn industry and vacated after some giant of a young gay man followed me around the store for 15 minutes waving boy-on-boy titles for me to see. I had really wanted to force a confession out of him, just say, "Ok, what do you want from me? A few minutes alone in one of the stalls?" And once he'd said yes just tell him straight out that he wasn't my type, to say nothing of gender.

I walked back to Ned's looking over my shoulder to make sure the guy wasn't following me. He was creepy. I still can't write. Or glue. Or get under Duke's hood and actually work on the automotive stuff that so often gets neglected these days in favor of art.

Goodwill clearance center today and toys by the pound for Seven. A golf club for me, which I now lean on to favor my sprained right ankle. My feet stink. Tried my young friend Jamie's number in Idyllwild today and found it disconnected for the first time. I'm not surprised. I was thinking of inviting her to take a bus up and join me on the road for awhile, be my driver. I need a driver. It's just as well though. She's too young and probably drives for shit. I've had bad luck with drivers and copilots. Tex was the best, even if he was drunk half the time.

Guess I'm feeling a bit lonely today. It was a gray and drizzly day here in Portland. I look forward to bidding Oregon farewell forever in a few days.

Well, at least until the Hawthorne gig next year.

[END OF CURRENT DISPATCH, AUG 24, 1998]

Unless otherwise noted, all images are copyrighted by the artists and/or
by Pineapple Publishing and Consulting
Art Cars in Cyberspace ©2004 Pineapple Publishing and Consulting
Contact us at artcars@artcars.com

Last update April 1, 2004