“I got an ol' pair of boots
And they fit just right
I can work all day
And I can dance all night
I got an ol' used car
And it runs just like a top
I get the feelin' it ain't
Ever gonna stop

Stuff that works, stuff that holds up
The kind of stuff you don't hang on the wall
Stuff that's real, stuff you feel
The kind of stuff you reach for when you fall”

-“Stuff That Works” by Guy Clark and Rodney Crowell

 

 

Last summer, over the 4th of July weekend, we were eating at a restaurant in downtown Santa Fe, New Mexico called the Plaza Café.   Now this isn’t just any place but rather a landmark restaurant we’ve been known to drive nine hours just to eat.  We had a booth near the back by the kitchen, and it was crowded.  I was enjoying a bowl of green chili pork pasole (my favorite thing to eat) with a sopapilla (puffy fry bread), when in walks Ethan Hawke with his son, probably about my daughter’s age.  They were seated at a booth next to us, probably because it was at the back with a little privacy.   It was strange because his son looked exactly like Uma Thurman (tall and blonde with her mysterious facial features), so it must have been their child together, although I think they are divorced now.   

When they finally got up to leave, he kept getting hounded for autographs and pictures by middle aged men in loafers and white socks, which was an embarrassment.  I’ve never actually witnessed this, although I haven’t been in close proximity to many celebrities.   I can’t stand celebrity worship, so it’s easy for me to have this perspective.  I just see them as very talented and lucky artists, some with troubles greater than my own.  Their money doesn’t impress me at all.   

After the restaurant I took a walk and ended up in a small bookstore down one of the ancient back alleys of Santa Fe.  There was only me and the cashier there for a long time.  And wouldn’t you know in walks Ethan Hawk and his son.  They walked right over to where I was browsing in the Billy the Kid section.  His son was asking Billy the Kid questions.  Ethan didn’t seem to know much about Billy the Kid, so I offered some assistance. 

I noticed Ethan was wearing this ridiculous frayed and sleeveless biker jeans jacket with a Harley Davidson patch and the name "Paco" embroidered across the back.  And he had on super-reflective aviators and a trucker’s cap, the brim creased in the middle like a gabled roof.  Come to think of it, he rather looked like my redneck Uncle Joe from Arkansas.   

I could tell he recognized me from the plaza diner, and I think he could tell that I either didn’t know who he was or didn’t care and wasn’t going to ask for a photo . . . because he looked at my old dusty worn out Tony Lama Cowboy Boots and said "cool boots, where can I get some of those?", probably thinking he could buy a new but distressed-looking pair some place.  This was either a compliment or a veiled insult (I couldn’t tell).  So I told him I bought these at a rundown Western store along a remote highway outside of El Paso, Texas, many years ago, on my way back from an archaeology excavation in the Mexican desert; and that I had been wearing them ever since, having them resoled four times.  So sensing he was about to make me an offer on my boots right then and there, I replied with an inane Okie-sounding "have a good one pardner" and then walked out the door.   

Now this is very strange because something similar happened to me one time when I was standing in the checkout line at Whole Foods in Oklahoma City in front of Wayne Coyne, front man for Oklahoma’s “famous” psychedelic rock band, The Flaming Lips.  Wayne said the same thing "I like those boots" to the point I thought he’d try to buy them off of me right then and there. 

So before that Santa Fe trip I was getting ready to get rid of my old, dusty, worn-out cowboy boots (which I love very much, but they had holes in the soles, yet again)   . . . but if they were good enough for a movie star and a rock star, I decided I had no choice but to have them resoled yet again.  And so I did for the fifth time. 

 “Stuff That Works” sung by Jack Ingram (written by Guy Clark and Rodney Crowell):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w9loDcigjwc