How to be a gunfighter (PG)
Marvin had always wanted to be a gunfighter. He grew up in the old West. As a child he read everything about gunfighters he could find. His hero was Billy the Kidd. He dreamed of being just like his hero. One day he went to town and bought himself a black hat, some black clothes, a black horse and two pistols. He went home and every day he went out behind his barn, and practiced shooting.
After two weeks he was getting to be quite a good shot. He decided it was time to show off. He put on his black clothes and hat, strapped on his guns and rode into town. When he walked into the saloon, standing at the bar he saw Billy the Kidd. He was so excited! He walked up and said, "Mr. Kidd, I am your biggest fan. I have always wanted to be just like you. Look at me. Do I look like a gunfighter?"
Billy looked him over and said, "Well, you have the right clothes and you have a nice black hat, and I see you rode up on a black horse. But, can you shoot?"
Marvin looked around the room and said, "See that piano player over there?" He drew his pistol and fired, shooting the cufflink off the piano player's shirt. Billy said, "Not bad. Can you shoot with your left hand? A gunfighter's got to be able to shoot with both hands."
Marvin drew his other pistol and fired, shooting off the piano player's other cufflink. Billy said, "That's mighty fine shooting. I just have one piece of advice for you."
Marvin was bubbling with excitement, "What is it? What else should I do?" Billy spoke slowly, "Well, go back into the kitchen there and get a big tub of lard. Take both of your pistols and rub them around in the lard, get them good and slick." Marvin was puzzled. He asked, "Why is that important? What good will rubbing my pistols in lard do?"
Billy replied, "It won't help your shooting at all, but when Wyatt Earp finishes playing the piano over there he's going to shove both of your pistols up your ass."
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Mundane Journeys through an Amazing World
begins with Interstate 80. Not the most engaging topic, I know, but when you think about it, I-80 runs all the way across the North American continent linking San Francisco and New York. It's not just a ribbon of asphalt, it's a portal to far away, almost magical places.
My visits to major cities like Tokyo, London and Washington DC have been business affairs. I haven't rode a lot of roller coasters or ridden in open air buses, but I have visited with senators, bought yams from the back of a truck and barely escaped complete embarrassment when I was introduced to Matt Wiener in Vegas.
As I wrote the book I realized that over the years exotic, distant places have become more like the mundane places I've called home. But, as it turns out, there really aren't any mundane places, only mundane ways of looking at things.
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