Lola's Salon

Oh dear, c.i., I didn't see you there. What would you like? Can I get you something?

Cobalt stumbles away from the massive doors of the new Ft. Worth Museum of Modern Art, rubbing her eyes and blinking against the brilliant sunlight. Wow, what a rush, she says, moving step by step carefully back to her livery. Wow oh wow oh wow! I sure would like a nice nitecap over at Lola's Salon - or was that Saloon? I wonder, if I leave now and start driving, how long from here to intersection with Piffa's route and thus be able to stop in for a frozen margherita with salt, please, and a lime on the rim? And, how much further is it to Mesa, by the by?

Lola, look at c.i., he looks like he's been sitting there for at least 88 hours!!! Whatever he wants, make sure it's a double. While you're getting his drink, I'll put on some of his favorite music...er, what is his favorite music?

Meanwhile, back at the saloon, hebba picks up piffka and dusts her off, explaining that the others have gone to the front room to escape the dust and noise. When piffka enters, they are discussing hebba's unlikely artistic endeavor for Bugsy. Bugsy, they agree, isn't a connosieur of realistic, insect art, not even cockroaches made from mahagony. What can we say? Hebba is an artist; you know, in his own world with his own version of beauty. On the other hand, maybe he has an ulterior motive. Maybe something like a Trojan cockroach....

Lola comes in smiling with the news that Cobalt is on her way and that Mikey will be coming along soon. He said something about inhaling that Lola didn't quite catch, but it doesn't matter, they are all looking forward to having more people at the high desert party.

Mexican food and a cerveza is just what the doctor ordered for this group. They all head out to Rosa's Repeat Rellenos.

Testing - one, two, three..

OK, system works - though it did call me "just hatched" - LOL

Lola and everybody just wanted to wish you a very Merry Christmas as will be out of the country until then. Love the new Blatham-designed decor, btw <G>

P.S. where did all those bugs - no, not software, that seems clean - come from? Never did understand Kafka, so please keep explanation simple if at all possible! Thanks <G>

"I realize your artistic sense is..." Piffka paused at this point, to pour both herself and him a bit more of the excellent coffee that was such a treat in the desert.

"... very set on treachery, but I still think whittling it all down into some fine Hebba-Made poker chips, as i suggested...."

..................

Lola has found Trevor again and they are gazing into each other's eyes. It is lovely to see them thus, gloved fingers lightly entwined on the comforter covering their legs... there on the old green velvet couch sitting on the porch. They were sitting on a large fur throw and bundled up in down parkas, but their inner glow seemed to warm them.

Their vista was such as the great Western movies of the past showed astounded audiences from Bengal to Worcester. Extraordinary mountains, hillocks & rocky mesas blindingly lit by a deep blue sky whose sun was a brilliant, but impossible to gaze at disk of white light. It wasn't so hot... in fact, jeans and boots and warm shirts and vests were worn by nearly everyone inside, except PaL who was wearing her Christmas sweater. Cicerone was outside but had insisted on wearing his black trousers! (He looked good, but like he'd been sitting there awhile.) He was riding the porch's rocking chair, content for now to look out at the Great Nothingness which is the American Southwest.

................

PaL, Diane and the rest were seated inside. We were all staying at Lola's Saloon... where the price was free and the dust had settled since Hebba had moved his chainsaw work to the back, in an old pair of stalls. Piffka was cooking chili beef on the back woodstove. The ladies were still drinking cervazas purchased on the way back from Rosie's. They were at the big table in front. They could have been enjoying the view out the picture windows or the heat from the main saloon fireplace. PaL had taken over fire-making duties and was continuing to amaze us with her fire power. The room was almost, but not quite, too hot. Just the way I like it, Piff thought.

Everybody was still waiting for Cobalt who was headed due sort of west, since she'd hopped aboard I-40. We'd last heard from her in Amarillo and it wasn't good news. She'd picked up a hitchhiker but refused to say who.

.................

It was just starting to lightly snow.

H of T

A most unexpected delight to find your much-missed smile here this rainy Vancouver morn. May you, and all yours (including the uncountable former husbands) have a festive and joyous Christmas. Kafka, by the way, is not so much needing to be understood as simply endured, which is why he is so seldomly linked in critcal theory with Trent Lott.

Lola is awakened by a startling sound......jumping from her warm bed, she peeps out the door and down a long hallway, into the Saloon. It's 3 AM and there is someone stirring, moving about quietly, but still there.

"HofT, is that you?" calls Lola, in a loud whisper.

Stepping into her slippers, Lola hurries down the hallway.

"Hi, Lola," says HofT. "I just stopped by to say Merry Christmas before I have to move on."

"Here," says Lola. "Let's sit for a bit and catch up. I'll get the coffee........."

A dusty hebba bursts in and removes his goggles.
"Whoaaa!Coffee..Hope I´m not intruding or anything.Damn cockroach.I HATE it!!I´ve sold out!I´m a loser,a has been!!I´ll never make it in this crazy art world...Black no sugar thanks Lola."

"And can I bum a smoke off you?"

Hi, Hebba, come over and join Piffka and I. We're waiting for cobalt. She's expected any minute. Warm coffee coming up, but I'm sorry, I have no smokes.....we'll have to send someone out for some. But I think we left Withers at home in NYC.

Never a butler around when you need one eh?
"Excuse the filth,ladies.Nice cup of Joe by the way.Uhm uhmmm."

In this good Mountain air... a cigarette??

Too much clean air will do that to you. You're in luck, there's some in the trunk of my car, it's roll-your-own tobacco, though. Can you manage?

How abt a big fat havana cigar ? Does that work for you ?

Gautum to the rescue, Hebba. Welcome G, have some coffee?

Lola, always gracious, leads hebba to the sofa where she helps dust him off, brushing the sawdust out of his hair.

Pouring his black coffee, she reminds him that he is now in the Wild West; plenty of people find it takes times to accomodate to the different ambience, where the colors seem to ignite and the shadows seem blacker than black.

This part of the country is filled with unique characters, hebba, who all came from somewhere else and who all had to come to grips with the dichotomy of the place. Your genteel sensibilities aren't used to a place where a woman like Ellen Banks said, in 1886, "I'll shoot a man who looks at me wrong, or make love to a man who looks at me right."

Tomorrow, we'll take you shopping for cowboy boots and a Stetson hat, to get you into the spirit of the place.

BTW, has anyone mentioned wearing a toolbelt? That is pretty much derigeuer for the men in any of Lola's many homes and businesses. I know one of the women will be glad to measure you for a custom made toolbelt tomorrow.

Now, go to bed and sleep and dream of what you want your sculpture to be. Perhaps it will morph into something completely different by morning. Sweet dreams, hebba.

hebba thanks Diane for her advice and retires to his cot,cleaner now that he´s dusted off.
He drifts away into that marvelous twilight world thinking about tool belts,dangerous women,stetson hats,roll-up smokes and Cuban cigars.Too much,basically,to sleep!

"Jack curls up next to Craven.... " I'm dying to know what comes next. c.i.

jes begins to weep with joy at the sights of HofT, CI and the half-finished 12 foot high cockroach composed entirely of cedar wood.

"It represents a pest, but it smells nice!" she cries, dancing around the half-finished 'roach sculpture.

Diane grabs jes and puts her hand on jes's forehead. "Hmm, did you open up the can of industrial-strength solvent without proper ventilation or something?"