Happy Birthday. Have many more. Continue to enlighten, illuminate and amuse with inimitable Box Cox prose. Bob Cox is HG/BSK’s friend. They met in Colorado when Bob was a columnist and publisher of weekly newspapers. He was a very positive force in the Jefferson County community and his columns were witty and sharp political thrusts. Bob sold the papers some time ago and settled in Abiquiu, New Mexico (not far from Georgia O Keefe’s former home). Unlike HG, Bob takes a minimal interest in cuisine. He reserves his passions for political comment, the outdoors and horses. Though a bit too rickety these days for equestrianism, HG shares Bob’s affection for horses. During the years when HG/BSK lived on their Colorado mountain ranch, HG spent hours each day on horseback, riding through forests and admiring endless views from mountain slopes. HG can get quite sentimental remembering HG’s favorite mounts, Peaches and Twist. Bob is still writing (HG believes there is a novel in the works) and a good way, to become acquainted with his talent is to log into his blog oldgringosgazette.com. Recently, Bob did a very moving piece on the final days of a 35-year-old horse. Even if you’ve never been on a horse’s back you’ll enjoy the eloquence and emotion of Bob’s prose. At the same time, Bob skewered that eminent hypocrite, Jeb Bush. So, log into the Old Gringo and become acquainted with a singularly human and insightful writer.
Why Gerald, flattery from you is flattery of the highest order, and the kind that gets printed and pasted on the plaudit section of the refrigerator door. By far an excellent remedy for whatever might be ailing, in body or in spirit. I’m sure I shall rely on it frequently in the coming weeks and months, each time I turn on the tube and am anguished by another act from the sleazy carnival of politicians who present themselves as candidates for the presidency of the U.S. Hell, I may even have to turn some attention to a regular diet of good food to sooth the soul — I may become a gourmet to fend off the extra-ghastly thoughts of a future President named Perry, Paul, Trump, Huckabee, Cruz, Graham, Jindal, Walker, Rubio or the sanctimonious Santorum.
Anyway, thanks for the pick-me-up, viejo amigo, and for the birthday wishes.
(You should know that many years ago, I learned how I could immediately tell, without question, which of my acquaintances were the sharpest, quickest and most forward-looking of the whole damn bunch of youse: They’re always thinking ahead, moving with great determination into the future, and really can’t wait to get on with it. So when they write a mention of my name, they usually come up with Box Cox. It is a measure of intelligence. When I see it, I sometimes am surprised. Not, with you, buddy — I knew of that long ago.) -b
Not flattery. Just a judicous appraisal. Or, shall I say, a Jewdicious appraisal.