Maddie and I were hanging out over at Jan and Randy's place, and while Randy and I were discussing something (woodchucks, if I remember correctly), Maddie got bored and wandered off. Eventually, I noticed that she wasn't nearby, so I looked around the church, discovering that she'd decided climb into Randy's kayak.


"Pew, pew," said Maddie, looking out across the deck from the cockpit. "Kaboom." She glanced up at me as I approached. "Got 'em."

"What are you up to there, Mighty Quinn? Seal hunting?" I checked my watch. Nearly five o'clock, dinner time for little dogs.


"Nope," replied Maddie. "I'm flying my rocket ship through the asteroid belt, hunting for giant space scorpions and crab monsters. Besides, I like seals. They're cute. I think I'd like to meet a seal." She paused. "Wait, what did you just call me?"

"'Mighty Quinn,'" I answered. "It's—"

"It's a store downtown," said Maddie, eying me suspiciously. "We walk past there all the time. Why did you just call me a store?"

"I didn't. The Mighty Quinn was a character in an old Bob Dylan song long before it was a store. He's an Eskimo."

"What's an Eskimo?"

"Indigenous peoples of the Great White North," I answered. "They come from Alaska, Siberia, and Greenland. They invented kayaks." I tapped on the boat's hull. "Though the song's really about the actor Anthony Quinn."

"Who's he."

"Zorba the Greek, for one. And he was Zampanò, the Gypsy strong man in La Strada. Oh, and he also played Auda abu Tayi, the leader of the Howeitat in Lawrence of Arabia. You watched that one with me, remember?"

"I think so," said Maddie, like she was trying to fit puzzle pieces together. "So this Quinn guy is from Greenland? And he's the leader of the Weetzie Bats? Or was that the Aquabats? I'm confused."

"Anthony Quinn? No, he's from Chihuahua."

"He's a Chihuahua? Now I'm even more confused."

"From Chihuahua, not a Chihuahua. It's a state in Mexico."

"But I thought you said he was an Eskimo."

I shook my head. "No, Anthony Quinn was an actor. He only played an Eskimo."

"Oh. I think I get it. So do they sell Eskimos at the Mighty Quinn? Or do Eskimos run the place?"

"No, it's a head shop."


"Wait, they sell heads there?" asked Maddie. "That's really weird."

"Never mind that," I said, changing the subject. "You about ready to head home for dinner?"

"Yeah, I guess I am kind of hungry."

"Well then come on, it's dinner time."


"But what about the giant space scorpions?" asked Maddie.

"Don't worry about them," I said. "The asteroid belt's a long way from earth. We'll be fine. You can always come back and hunt them after dinner."


But meanwhile...

While we were visiting Jan and Randy's house a few nights ago, I discovered that Randy had the dolls out (he'd been working on a piece for "The Man Show," currently on display at The Mail Depot). As the story goes, the dolls were discovered in a box, in the desert, in pretty-much the states of decay seen here, many years ago. What follows are a number of pictures I took of the collection, spread out on the table, more-or-less unposed and undisturbed. More or less. Yeah, it's kind of like hanging out in Joel Peter Witkin's rumpus room, but some of you might enjoy them. So put on a record of kindertotenlieder, pour a glass of wine, sit back, and enjoy...



( More images behind the cut. Fair warning, some images may disturb you. )

So, what have I been up to this week? Shipping, shipping shipping. A Vintage from Atlantis: The Collected Fantasies Of Clark Ashton Smith Volume 3 showed up in the Night Shade Books warehouse last week, and I managed to get about a quarter of the pre-orders packed and shipped before heading down to San Diego for Thanksgiving, but knew what I'd be returning to... a mountain of orders to process.


A freshly cracked-open case. Ah! That new book smell!


Each copy is carefully bubble-wrapped for safe shipment.


Once a stack is ready...

( More and more, including Maddie at the Merry-Go-Round, behind the cut... )

As mentioned earlier, in the waning hours of Maureen's Mail Depot party, a cadre of adventurers set forth, seeking liquid refreshments and perhaps pizza. They ended up at Bricks. There, a trio of minstrels played old country and western tunes and drinks were served. A good time was had by all...

( Photographic proof, shot by a near-inebriated photographer (so forgive me if you look ridiculous), is hidden behind the link. )

Mid-afternoon yesterday, there was a knock at my front door. A young man stood there, clipboard in hand, a big truck idling in the street. He was looking for Jan and Randy, said he had a delivery for them, wanted to know if I could sign for it. “Sure,” I nodded.

He unloaded a huge box, bearing the marks of a lettuce and cabbage distributor, perched atop a wooden pallet. I pulled out my cell phone, concerned that the kid was dropping off four hundred pounds of cabbage, then realized that I didn’t have Jan’s number. I called Randy but he wasn’t answering, so I left a message and then called Jennifer. “Oh, is it Jan’s jukebox?” she asked. Of course!



Not cabbage, not lettuce, but Jan’s jukebox, a Rock-Ola Mystic 478, a beautiful artifact of late 1970s high (but still largely mechanical) technology, complete with squarish “digital” numerals, flashing lights, and profit-maximizing gismos inside. Jan’s jukebox had arrived.



The kid dropped the pallet by the door, I signed, then he drove away. Jan and Randy arrived soon afterwards, and after watching Randy accomplish the ordeal of unpacking, helped the two of them shoulder the mechanical beast into the house. Satisfied that the situation was well in hand, I headed home, then down to pick up Jennifer from work.



( Continued behind cut... )

I just realized that my clock has stopped, and that it's half an hour later than I thought it was. No wonder I'm tired. The real bummer is that I have to get up at 4:45 a.m. Ugh.

But I'd rather post pictures than sleep, so... here's what we saw today:


A graffitied lost dog poster. I hope he made it home.


A shoe tree.


Randy and Charlie. Does that chair look familiar?

More behind the cut...( Read more... )