Jubalie Moe

I know exactly what you mean. I lived in Wyoming for a couple years and would often go out on the high plains right outside of town to throw the ball for my dog. The wind seemed to blow steady, at least 30 miles an hour, nonstop.I would get this eerie feeling like I could be plucked off the face of the Earth and no one would ever know. I would get a more realistic feeling of, if I broke my ankle out here I’d be in a pretty bad spot. When I would come home to Louisiana, I was shocked at how green everything was, and I developed a much deeper affinity for trees than I ever had before. I still think the west is beautiful, but I no longer want to live there. And that’s not even touching on the winters.

I like him. He was great in one of my top 5 movies, Flirting With Disaster. Very funny as a gay US Marshal who licks Patricia Arquette’s armpit.

Also this bit, definitely in the movie, forgot if it was from the book. Jake on his horse, awaiting hanging.
Gus, “I want you to know, I got Lorie back.”
Jake, “Who?”

Damn.

While not a good man by any stretch, I love Roger Sterling. He made me laugh out loud the most.

Victor David Hanson, classical scholar, calls this sort of female, liberal behavior “maenadism.” Incredibly accurate.

Looks like it’s filmed out around Lauderdale/Roanoke.

I lived in Laramie about 15 years after it happened. I became friends with the local judge through his wife who I worked with and got the whole story from him. The two points I mainly remember is when his mom heard about the beating the first thing she said was something like, “I knew he’d get into trouble because of drugs,” basically because she knew he’d had a bad habit and ran with bad people. He apparently associated with at least one of the attackers, occasionally intimately. The other point was when the “dumbass” (judge’s words) sheriff (I think sheriff, LE officer) found out he was gay after he’d been identified he said “was this because he was gay?” and that set off the firestorm.

I wonder when we’ll start getting memes about white parents having to have “the talk” with their white kids. Remember a lot if those post-George Floyd

American Gods. Would have loved it to be a bunch of short stories, loosely connected, about all the ancient gods in America. Found the actual plot, kind of boring.

My husband complains that I randomly switch brands of something, or decide to buy the store’s generic—the most recent example is garbage bags. I like to keep our marriage exciting.