off my coat, threw it over the poodle’s head, grabbed it, and sprinted to my car. I opened the trunk and threw it in. I looked in the rear-view mirror as I drove off, but no one noticed anything. I drove side streets for hours looking for the cops or an undercover tail, but I had lost them, given them the slip, as they say. So I eased up, turned on the radio, and went to a grocery store and bought a gallon of bottled water, a five-pound bag of dog food, and a plastic bone and snuck the dog into my motel room .
I decided to move to Alaska that night. The last frontier. The last place in America for freedom, for individuality, for honor, for peace. It’s also a great place to raise a dog. I dropped off the rental car, took a cab to a used car lot, and picked up a 1975 Ford Bronco for $2,000. On the way out of town I picked up a sleeping bag, winter clothes, a camping stove, freeze-dried food, an ax, and a fishing pole .
Ten days later I was sitting in a bar in Juneau, Alaska. Some of the weirdest people I’d ever seen in my life live up there. I spent the first week in a motel watching TV and reading Jack London. Got through most of his whole collection. I wanted to study, I really did, but after reading White Fang I knew that the wilderness was no place to live. Have you read that fucking book? You’d have to be nuts to live like that. Out in a cabin with no TV and no heat. And then it dawned on me, I got a fucking poodle, not a husky. I’d need a fucking husky, but then I liked the poodle. I didn’t know what to do .
So I drove the truck down to Portland, Oregon, got a motel room, and spent a couple weeks watching cable TV and playing with the dog. But then I started getting homesick, real homesick. I don’t know why I did, but I did. We all know this town is a shithole. But it’s my shithole. Then I freaked out and bought a solid gold wristwatch with diamonds on it for my dad. It cost a fucking fortune. Or cost him. Ha! Ha! Ha! Shit, anyway, I had it engraved, ‘To the best dad I know, love Dickie Jr.’ I drove back to Reno the same day they finished the watch. Then I was in Grants Pass at a rest stop, and I let the dog out to take a leak. Problem was, when I was ready to go I just got back in the car and drove off. I forgot about the dog. I was almost in Reno by the time I remembered, but by then I was too tired to go back .
Anyway, I gave my dad the watch and he didn’t know what to think. Then a couple days later he found out about the card, and the son of a bitch committed me to a private mental hospital for evaluation. Can you believe that? But I didn’t give a shit. Why should I? It’s better than working. At least that’s what I thought at the time .
The first guy I met in there said he’s Liberace’s son. I said Jesus, Liberace didn’t have a kid. So we got in a fight, it was touch and go for a while then I kicked the shit out of him and ended up in the state mental ward. It took me three months to get out of there, but it wasn’t as bad as you’d think .
Signed your pal ,
Dickie Junior
I don’t know what time it was when I was done, but the nurse finally kicked me out, so I set the story on Jerry Lee’s chest and made my way home.
14
I GOT UP THAT NEXT MORNING , took a shower, shaved, put on some clothes and walked to my old job at the restaurant supply and repair company. The day was sunny, cold out, but there was no breeze and the walking warmed me up. The place I worked was on Virginia Street. I was a local driver, sometimes I’d go on longer trips with another guy to Fallon or to Lake Tahoe, but mostly it was just around town picking up and delivering fryers and ovens, doing repairs and installations, things like that.
I didn’t want to go in there since I hadn’t called or told them why I hadn’t shown up for over a week, and when I got there I could see that the truck I used was gone, so figured they’d found someone new. I went in there anyway, though, and the main boss
I decided to move to Alaska that night. The last frontier. The last place in America for freedom, for individuality, for honor, for peace. It’s also a great place to raise a dog. I dropped off the rental car, took a cab to a used car lot, and picked up a 1975 Ford Bronco for $2,000. On the way out of town I picked up a sleeping bag, winter clothes, a camping stove, freeze-dried food, an ax, and a fishing pole .
Ten days later I was sitting in a bar in Juneau, Alaska. Some of the weirdest people I’d ever seen in my life live up there. I spent the first week in a motel watching TV and reading Jack London. Got through most of his whole collection. I wanted to study, I really did, but after reading White Fang I knew that the wilderness was no place to live. Have you read that fucking book? You’d have to be nuts to live like that. Out in a cabin with no TV and no heat. And then it dawned on me, I got a fucking poodle, not a husky. I’d need a fucking husky, but then I liked the poodle. I didn’t know what to do .
So I drove the truck down to Portland, Oregon, got a motel room, and spent a couple weeks watching cable TV and playing with the dog. But then I started getting homesick, real homesick. I don’t know why I did, but I did. We all know this town is a shithole. But it’s my shithole. Then I freaked out and bought a solid gold wristwatch with diamonds on it for my dad. It cost a fucking fortune. Or cost him. Ha! Ha! Ha! Shit, anyway, I had it engraved, ‘To the best dad I know, love Dickie Jr.’ I drove back to Reno the same day they finished the watch. Then I was in Grants Pass at a rest stop, and I let the dog out to take a leak. Problem was, when I was ready to go I just got back in the car and drove off. I forgot about the dog. I was almost in Reno by the time I remembered, but by then I was too tired to go back .
Anyway, I gave my dad the watch and he didn’t know what to think. Then a couple days later he found out about the card, and the son of a bitch committed me to a private mental hospital for evaluation. Can you believe that? But I didn’t give a shit. Why should I? It’s better than working. At least that’s what I thought at the time .
The first guy I met in there said he’s Liberace’s son. I said Jesus, Liberace didn’t have a kid. So we got in a fight, it was touch and go for a while then I kicked the shit out of him and ended up in the state mental ward. It took me three months to get out of there, but it wasn’t as bad as you’d think .
Signed your pal ,
Dickie Junior
I don’t know what time it was when I was done, but the nurse finally kicked me out, so I set the story on Jerry Lee’s chest and made my way home.
14
I GOT UP THAT NEXT MORNING , took a shower, shaved, put on some clothes and walked to my old job at the restaurant supply and repair company. The day was sunny, cold out, but there was no breeze and the walking warmed me up. The place I worked was on Virginia Street. I was a local driver, sometimes I’d go on longer trips with another guy to Fallon or to Lake Tahoe, but mostly it was just around town picking up and delivering fryers and ovens, doing repairs and installations, things like that.
I didn’t want to go in there since I hadn’t called or told them why I hadn’t shown up for over a week, and when I got there I could see that the truck I used was gone, so figured they’d found someone new. I went in there anyway, though, and the main boss
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