retyping the classics with hunter thompson

Gonzo: The Life and Work of Dr. Hunter S. Thompson

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I watched the Gonzo documentary before going to bed so naturally I dreamed of Hunter Thompson. He was with me at a party with all the young dudes as the David Bowie song goes.

I convinced these young men that Hunter was alive and well and within these 4 walls. They all got up to talk to him like teen girls with the Beatles in 1964.

I learned from the documentary that he had a sweet side which you can see in the way he touches his chin in an episode of To Tell the Truth. Both of his wives said he had a vicious side, like when he screams at one of them to find his g–damn medicine.

I also learned that Ralph Steadman, Hunter’s illustrator, is not a crazy person. I mistakenly thought so based on his work as you can see here:

image via

He appears normal and well-spoken, like a nice gentleman you pass in the supermarket as shown here:

British cartoonist and caricaturist Ralph Stea...

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In the film Hunter said he typed the words of F. Scott Fitzgerald (Great Gatsby) over and over just to get the flow. Did it work for him? Obviously.

So to get over the dreaded writers block that possessed me over the holidays I’ll do what Hunter did with the Gatsby.

Instead of writing I rewrite.

I checked out classics from the library by authors like Bradbury, Faulkner, Conan Doyle, and Fenimore Cooper. What a way to feel like the author to retype their words, to see what they saw and what made them get it all down on paper. You don’t get that by just copy/pasting.

So because of Hunter sneaking into my dreams I remembered the most vital part of writing: rewriting. I’m ready for more trips into the subconscious as long as the Steadman drawings stay at home.


happy anniversary, mom and dad

Courthouse in Hernando, Mississippi

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Today, August 4, is my parents’ 55th anniversary.  They got married in a Hernando, Mississippi courthouse in 1956 after knowing each other for only 10 days.  55 years later, my dad writes this to his life-long partner:

Ode to My Wife Uva Nell Lassiter-Fortney

by Robert Fortney

A hammer and saw you cannot use

A shirt without buttons you avoid like the flu

For you a road map is shade

but as a Mother you take a back seat to none.

You care for your family and house like they are royalty.

Then you act like we deserve it.

Of course we don’t.

But MOTHERING is something you do.

You cook, clean, pet and soothe our hurts and fears away.

Most of all you love us one and all.

So you are already in the Mother’s Hall of Fame

and at age 76 you have not quit yet!

And as your partner through these years,

I count it an honor and privilege to grow old with you.

As it was in our vows,

“‘Til death do us part,”



the looks on our faces: my favorite picture

Today, Plinky asks to share my favorite photo of myself. I chose this one with my husband.

This photo’s my favorite because Tim was reluctant to have it taken at first, but it became the best photo of us together. It’s not one of those staged shots where you sit thinking, “C’mon! Take the picture!” with a plastic smile posted to your face. This photo reveals the looks we have on our faces most of the time.

We took this photo at my nephew’s wedding–the same nephew who asked all the women to dance at our wedding over 18 years ago. My youngest daughter took his place by running out on the dance floor and boogie-ing with anyone who was out there. I ran out there after her, of course, and danced to every song from Neil Diamond to Lady GaGa.

Tim and my older daughter sat at their table, quiet, playing games and taking pictures with their iPods, just like a typical day in the Jones household.

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ba-ba-ba-ba: dedicated to the one I love

Plinky‘s prompt for the day is to create a playlist for the one I love. You know who you are.

If Not For You by George Harrison

I found this gem while researching George Harrison last year when he received his star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Bob Dylan wrote the lyrics, but it was this performance from 1992 that made me favorite it:

The mustache, the purple jacket, and 1992, the year we married. Definitely first choice.

Love Shack by B-52s

This song was around number one when my husband and I were dating. I first heard the B-52s do it on David Letterman, remembering them from the early eighties as the crazy “Rock Lobster” people. The next day at work I raved about it which was fortunate since I worked in a record store. This CD along with the BoDeans, Tom Petty and the Traveling Wilburys were on constant rotation.

This band was the original Lady GaGa. I heard that the reason they named themselves the B-52s was from the ladies’ hair that was fixed to look like bombs.

Happy Together by Turtles

Tim had this grand plan for me the night he proposed. He hid my ring in a piece of cake (he called it “Carat Cake”) and came over to the house. I had the worst cold and I was watching the Clarence Thomas sexual harassment trial. Romantic, I know.

We went out in the cold and drove around telling everyone the good news, though I was coughing and hacking up a storm. In the car, he played this song with the following lyrics:

Me and you and you and me

No matter how they toss the dice, it has to be

The only one for me is you, and you for me

So happy together

And these thoughtful words:

Ba-ba-ba-ba ba-ba-ba-ba ba-ba-ba ba-ba-ba-ba

Ba-ba-ba-ba ba-ba-ba-ba ba-ba-ba ba-ba-ba-ba

In sickness and in health, we’re still happy together.

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