This is kind of a placeholder for a post I’d been planning about Jack Pierce. Jack and I crashed a big party at the Tualatin Country Club. Or rather, I crashed the party and Jack got someone to buy his ticket. So I wanted to tell that story. It was a rare case where I showed myself brave, and didn’t end up getting beaten half to death. In fact, some rich dudes bought me drinks.

I also want to tell Jack’s story. Jack is physically repulsive. Jack is falsely accused. Jack is crazy. Jack is tragic.

Jack is also gone. I don’t expect to see him again. He left a bunch of crap in my yard. Sometime I’ll write about it.

Jack, asleep in the cold