I spent the day, mostly, with the glyptosaur paper, puzzling the ins and outs of Eocene biostratigraphy in Alabama and Mississippi. Forams and ostracodes and phytoplankton, oh my.
Okay, sorry. I had to do that, because we're watching Wild at Heart (1990) tonight. I cannot believe that movie's about to turn thirty next year. I saw it the first time the summer it was released, with Jada and Elizabeth, somewhere here in Birmingham.
Oh, and I'll blame the pimento cheese sandwiches, too.
The mail brought more signature pages for the Centipede Press edition of The Haunting of Hill House (I wrote the afterword, or introduction).
Yesterday was the one-year anniversary of Harlan Ellison's death, but I just wasn't up to mentioning it. Today would have been Ray Harryhausen's 99th birthday.
For my part, I still need heroes, and I expect I always will, no matter how many times I find myself the hero in my "own story." Without heroes, I am lost.
“As you get older it is harder to have heroes, but it is sort of necessary.” ~ Ernest Hemingway*
Later Taters,
CRK
7:00 p.m.
*Another of my heroes, by the way.
