Bob Boze Bell's Big Bad Book of Bad Diary Entries

 July 7, 2024

   Big front page feature in today's Albuquerque Journal on the reopening of the Ellis Store next week. Check it out:

Ellis Store Ready for More

   On a related note, Cleis Jordan, sent me the press release for my first art show in Lincoln, New Mexico 31 years ago.

For IMMEDIATE RELEASE:

Billy the Kid Finally Hangs In Lincoln

LINCOLN, NM, April 21, 1993—Arizona artist and writer, Bob Boze Bell will be bringing it all home on May 1. Home to the house where Billy the Kid actually stayed during the famous Lincoln County War. Casa de Patron will be the site of Bell's first New Mexico showing of the art from his new book, 'The Illustrated Life & Times of Billy the Kid.'

   The book published last October (1992) features almost 100 works of art by Bell, including pen and ink, watercolors and oils. All chronicle the shor life of New Mexico's most famous citizen. . .Casa de Patron is proud to showcase the first New Mexico showing of the major pieces from the book that relaated to Lincoln. Over one dozen paintings including the large oil of Billy that graces the cover of the book, will be hung on the walls of the house where the boy outlaw stayed."

   End of press release. At the time, Cleis and Jerry Jordan owned Casa de Patron, the famous Bed & Breakfast where the Kid stayed and I would have to say it was one of my favorite spots on the planet.

   I was very proud to see some of the Old Guard historians who showed up for my art show at Casa de Patron. In fact, on the day of the show May 1, 1993, we stepped outside on the patio, where this photo was taken.

L to R: Leon Metz, good guy can't remember his name, Fred Nolan, BBB and, maybe Bob Barron? I believe I am the last one standing and some would say I have graduated to the Old Guard myself.

   I think a new Old Guard photo is in order for next week's festivities at the Ellis Store in Lincoln. If you love Billy the Kid, we'll see you there. And, if you need an invite, here you go:

Meanwhile, up Prescott way. . .

"Doc In Stages: One Gallivanting Galoot!" 

   Look close, that is him in the back of the Plaza Stable Prescott stagecoach. Also, just got this from the man of the hour:

 "So if you have not done the math yet, starting with his trip with Wyatt from Las Vegas, New Mexico, to Prescott in October 1879 and ending with his trip to Tombstone in September 1880, Doc traveled a total of around 2050 miles within that time! That is one gallivanting galoot, impressive for anyone let alone a lunger! And that is just the traveling we know about."

—Brad Courtney

 July 6, 2024

   Been on a scratchboard kick.

"Peruvian Bustout"

Daily Scratchboard Whip Out:

Daily Scratchboard Whip Out:

"Mas sabe el diablo por viejo que por diablo."

—Old Vaquero Saying, (The devil knows more from experience than from being the devil.)

 July 5, 2024

   One of my favorite Navajo goddesses is Changing Woman who supposedly not only changes the seasons, but she also changes day into night and turns girls into women.

   Speaking of Indigenous People, here is a newspaper example of frontier usage of that term which James B. Mills sent me:

The Pickens County Herald

And West Alabamian, November 6, 1872

   So, although the term "indigenous" sounds modern to my ears, there it is in usage in the 1870s. On the other hand, Paul Andrew Hutton makes the claim that he has never seen this term in usage among military reports from the frontier period. Interesting debate and development to say the least.

   Shifting gears, still working on a big feature for the next issue of True West.

A Spirit of Spite

   The Jayhawker War of 1855-56 set the bar for unbridled barbarism between Americans on American soil. Undisciplined Union troops who had personal scores to settle and a trail of looting and barbarism marked their progress.

"Redlegs On The Move"

"This was a war of stealth and raid, without a front, without formal organization, with almost no division between the civilian and the warrior."

—Michael Fellman, "Inside War: The Guerrilla Conflict In Missouri During the American Civil War"

Fine Art Women

   I had an art teacher at the University of Arizona back in 1967 who was a bearded, full blown hippie. He was fond of coming in the drawing room and booming out almost facetiously:

"Work! Work!"

—Bruce McGrew

    Two art students from my fine arts college married well. One of them was Linda Eastman and the other was Aline Kominsky. Linda left the program the semester before I got there, but I actually had a drawing class with Aline.

   Linda is the inspiration for this classic line, "JoJo left his home in Tucson, Arizona, for some California grass. . ." because she married Paul McCartney. Aline moved to San Francisco and married R. Crumb. Two fine arts U of A women who married well, fine.

Aline portrait by R. Crumb

    Myself, I failed to graduate. Three units shy of a degree. Scattered and easily distracted. Hey, I was in a band! On the other hand I ran into a fellow student twenty years later and he claimed only two of us from the Fine Arts program from that era (1965-1970) were still active in the arts.

"Get back to where you once belonged."

—Paul McCartney, riffing on his new love and her old alma mater

 July 4, 2024

   Feel the moment, go with it, embrace it, let it flow. . . at least that's what I told myself as Kathy and I went into the Desert Ridge AMC Theater (#16) that holds 38 people. We had a reservation ($21, includes one popcorn for $9), and "Horizon" allegedly started at 11 a.m. but there must have been at least ten minutes of insufferable local ads before the start of a three-hour-movie? Oh, and before the movie started we had twenty minutes of trailers and there is Wolverine vs some Spiderman type character and Hugh Jackman says, "F#*k you!" maybe three times in the trailer? Really? In the flippin' trailer? Is that word now that acceptable in mainstream America? 

Apparently at Marvel the answer to that question is "F#*kin' A!" So, that certainly put me in a good mood.

   Like I said, the theater holds 38 people and I counted seven of us as the movie started. It was basically three sets of guys and their wives (and maybe a sister?) and the guys were all my age (leading Boomers). Another bad sign for Kevin.

   Meanwhile, the feature started at about the 11:23 mark and I have to say, I was looking at the time quite a bit. Not a good sign.

   I wish I could say the overall story arc made up for the convoluted and semi-decent storytelling but it did not. Then with all of the homages to John Ford (Moab standing in for the San Pedro Valley, the cavalry look, etc) got in the way of everything for me. In the end, I thought it was a deadly combination of hubris and homage. A reported 171 speaking parts. This is one ambitious puppy. Here's two nitpicks:

    However, the biggest surprise to me was when we got out of the theater, I asked Kathy how much she hated it and she said, "I loved it. It was very much a novel on screen and I would give it an eight." Wow. I was stunned to say the least and I fully expected her to dislike it because it was I who drug her to see it. So, that says, to me, I need to give it another chance and rewatch it—on streaming, thank you very much—and we need to argue about it because we love what Kevin was TRYING to do! Plus, I have friends who totally loved it and that includes Stuart Rosebrook and Rob Mathiash, who both thought it epic and fun. We are considering a six page feature on the arguments about it, so that will be fun as well.

   And, there's more, but Happy Fourth to you and yours and we'll catch up on the other side.

 July 2, 2024

   A master plan. I am always looking for that eye twinkling moment in a portrait for our next book.

"Old Vaquero In Brown Town"

   And, it must be said, there is always interest in decadent calamity.

   When it comes to Killer Kids of The Civil War, it's hard to beat this kid for absolute innocence.

   Lots of friends discussing Kevin Costern's $38 million Western, "Horizon." I'm going to see it tomorrow because it's, well, it's homework. Besides, look at this Google stat on one of my blogs that is almost seven years old.

The Absolute Best Historically Accurate Westerns

   Of course, this is one more reason to go see Kevin Costner's mega-effort.

   Tomorrow.

"There is always opportunity in chaos."

—Old Vaquero Saying

July 1, 2024

   I was asked by Nina Spitzer at the Cave Creek Chamber, to write up a short history of Cave Creek incorporation and thanks to help from my neighbor, Tom Augherton, and two Creekers he knows: John Hoeppner and Martha Arnold, I was able to cobble this together.

 The Brave And Tenacious Creekers Who Saved Our Bacon

   Like many 20th century settlers I was attracted to Cave Creek because it was still a bit of a Wild West town. To my artistic eye—and this would be in the 1970s—the Creek, as we called it, was full of independent thinkers and unique individuals (some folks in Carefree would translate that as cowboys, hippies, bikers and drug dealers). Even that made me happy. So when we heard the rumblings about incorporation, we fumed. We came out here to get away from all that messy government stuff. But, as it turns out, we were short-sighted and a small, tenacious group of concerned Creekers stepped forward to save us from being swallowed whole by Phoenix—that hungry Beast from the south!

   Incorporation efforts had failed in 1974 and again in 1979, but by1986, volunteer members of the Cave Creek Incorporation Committee (CCIC), led by first Town mayor, Ted Rothman, turned the tide. It wasn't easy and the successful election on July 8, 1986 was the culmination of years of angst and a final fifteen months of aggressive action by doggedly-determined local preservationists.

   The effort also required that a new Town of Cave Creek (as with all incorporation efforts), required the approval of the adjacent existing jurisdictions. As Martha Arnold put it, "The residents as far south as Lone Mountain wanted to be part of Cave Creek. Hence, Phoenix literally established the southern border. No way would Phoenix approve Cave Creek going that far south!" She should know. Martha's husband, Jack, drew up all the maps with borders going way south, then retreating north, then excepting the corner of Carefree Highway and Cave Creek Road, where Carefree took the northwest corner (where Lowe's is now) and Phoenix took the southwest corner. Even the Cave Creek School building on 64th Street was taken by Phoenix.

   What finally turned me and most of my friends and neighbors was this bit of practical advice from John Hoeppner: "Either we incorporate now and drive one mile to City Hall and talk to people we know, or we drive twenty miles down to Phoenix and nobody will listen to us."

   Today, we admire their vision, foresight and tenacity.

   As Studs Terkel put it so eloquently, “Heroes are not giant statues framed against a red sky. They are people who say this is my community and it’s my responsibility to make it better.”

   Today, we thank incorporating pioneers John Hoeppner, Cheri Hoeppner, Jacky Davis, Don Radke, Jo Walker, Ed Walker, Jim Threadgill, Jim Hines, Ted Rothman (Chair) Betty Garrison, Carl Bixler, Paul Helms, Rupert Johnson, Susan Svitak, Bill Webster, and Bernice Webster.

   Because of you we have our own community.

   Thank you all!

The Three Surviving Incorporation Committe Members: Cheri Hoeppner, John Hoeppner and Jacky Davis, at City Hall in Cave Creek, taken yesterday

"How blessings brighten as they take their flight."

—Old Vaquero Saying

 June 30, 2025

   Working on a big feature for the September-October issue of True West. Got an ambitious montage going utilizing prints I have colorized and painted over of very young soldiers from both sides in the Civil War.

Killer Kids

   After the battle of Centralia, rebel troops dallied with the dead Union soldiers and cut off their heads and played with them for some time, putting one head on another body and then when they tired of this they placed the severed heads on spikes and, mounting on horseback, wheeled around, waving the battered, expressionless faces into their comrades faces and and laughing.

   According to the author T. J Stiles, "the rebels walked among the dead, crushing faces with rifle butts and shoving bayonets through the bodies, pinning them to the ground. . .others slid knives out of their sheaths and knelt down to work. One by one, they cut seventeen scalps loose, then carefully tied them to their saddles and bridles. At least one guerrilla carved a nose off a victim. Others sliced off ears, or sawed off heads and switched their bodies. Someone pulled the trousers off one corpse, cut off the penis and shoved it in the dead man's mouth."

   It was a playground of juvenile atrocities. One 16-year-old bushwhacker was credited with killing the Union commander. The proud killer's name was Jesse James. His older brother Frank, 17, later remembered "We rode out of the woods low on our ponies, like Indians."

   They frolicked like this for some time until their commander, "the old man" told them to stop. They called their leader "The Old Man." William Anderson, also known as "Bloody Bill," was 23.

"Bloody" Bill Anderson, age 23

   As Michael Fellman puts it in his masterful book, "Inside War: The Guerrilla Conflict In Missouri During the American Civil War," "This was a war of stealth and raid, without a front, without formal organization, with almost no division between the civilian and the warrior."

   Civilians were caught in the middle. They often were attacked by troops who were sent to protect them and then again by pro-southern guerillas.

   The Union troops from Kansas were no better. In addition to "casual freebooting" these blue capped soldiers engaged in extortion and felt justified because they believed Missourians should be punished for their secessionist, slaveholding sins, and they subsequently raided, plundered and murdered with a special zeal.

   Heaven help a country when both sides believe the other are not only worthy of extermination but that it is God's will that their enemies cease to exist.

"The more things change, the more they remain the same."

—Old Missouri Saying