My cat, Miss Holly Wood, just jumped in my lap. She wants food. Even though she’s 18 years old with failing kidneys, she eats constantly. I must make much money to feed her.
My sister patting me on the head. My mother asking, “Why are you doing that?” My sister’s reply: “I’m looking for the soft spot.”
“The kitchen was the center of life at Owl Farm and it was the engine room for Hunter’s literary Juggernaut.”
Michael Cleverly & Bob Braudis, The Kitchen Readings
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Since my teenage years I have idolized Hunter S. Thompson. I have read everything he wrote, and have written about him at every opportunity. It is his words I look to in my darkest moments, his voice that guides me when I am nervous, and it is his symbol – the double-thumbed Gonzo fist – that was my first tattoo, proudly set upon my left forearm.
In 2007 I travelled to Colorado for the first time, chasing the legacy of the Beat Generation. It was hardly lost on me that Colorado was not only a temporary home to the Beats, but the long-time residence of Hunter S. Thompson.
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