In 2001 I took an air & road trip to pick up a car for my daughter, Connie, who was about to turn 16.  My father had a car he couldn’t use because my sister, whom he lived with, wouldn’t allow him to take her kids around in the car, too unsafe since it was a convertible.
The sketchbook was actually just a little teeny weeny journal, about 2 1/2 x 4 inches big. It only has the drawings and story from the trip, nothing else. 
These are some of the drawings and writings from that little teeny weeny journal.
You fly, or rather I fly, to places and meet nobody.  I could meet someone but didn’t recently.  My unwife met people, young good looking men.  She has their e-mail addresses and one was at Thanksgiving instead of me last year.  I met a woman coming back from Boise once. I got her email address, but only wrote her once.

Now the sun is skimming the tops of cottage cheese clouds, deep cool blue and warm pale yellow on top.  I love the sky.  That’s why I like Oklahoma.

A dusky purple blue with a spread of sun edge is what I see now.  Burning orange red as it goes behind a thin stretch of cloud.  I probably shouldn’t look at it.  The woman next to me has a little gift back on the seat between us. Tan & green plaid with a lace tie around the handles.
I was wrong about not meeting people on airplanes.  I just met two.  One, a business man, Bob, with five daughters he raised, the other a porn star, Samantha.  She autographed a picture for me that I did not ask for but accepted when given.  She only does quality work she says.  She showed me some other pictures.  She changes hair color a lot.  
I drew her while she listened to Bob talk about his webcasting teleconferencing technology.  She wants me to email her the drawing. I said okay.  The guy in the seat behind her was really trying to see her through the crack in the seat.
My nephews went off to school with the neighbor who complained to my sister when she introduced me to her because she had no makeup on.  We are going to see her again tonight at the baseball game so I told her I would see how she cleaned up then.
She wasn’t wearing a wedding ring but I was told she is married.  Oh well, married people don’t look for rings like us single folk do.

 Drawing and writing © 2016 Marty Coleman |

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