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Mind Over Matter

the callowness of youth

When I was fourteen I spent the summer in LA with my aunt and uncle, who would later regret it.

One scorching day, while on our way to the LaBrea tar pits (perhaps for them to throw me in), we stopped at a light. Feeling it an opportune time to go for the gold, I had my right index finger jammed as far as it would travel up my left nostril.

That's when I felt eyes on me.

Finger still securely planted, I turned my head. In the car next to us sat Robert Mitchum, swear to God, looking like he was fresh from Night of the Hunter, staring at me in stunned disbelief.

About then the light changed, and he began rolling away. Slowly at first, and then faster than you would have thought prudent.

And that’s how I impressed Robert Mitchum.

Odd what the brain recalls...


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