feral

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

OK, folks. How weird is this: my son Jesse actually did come up to visit—yesterday evening—and as I opened up the shop this morning he took a stroll down Main Street. And bumped into some folks he thought were a couple of out-of-town yuppie tourists with cameras. And he very considerately directed them across the way to the grand opening of Golden Egg Books. And so they stopped in. And they were reporters for the Los Angeles Times, up here for a story about Modoc County (why do people move here? what do they do once they get here?, etc.)—because it's the last county in California where median home prices are less than $100,000. The woman reporter interviewed me in depth for half an hour and said she owed my son a finder's fee. Her photographer companion said he would be back to take pictures in the afternoon, when the light is better.

I may well be edited out of their article. Who knows? But that full moon of November. This was the right day to open.

And they walked out, and I'd forgotten to tell them about feral. How dumb was that?
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ON THE WAY HOME, FROST MOON 2005

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