John Steinbeck/John Lennon

So this guy in a shirt, a real shirt, with buttons and starch on the fabric, shows me The Herald; points out an article about the Israeli ambassador to Peru found naked in his Peruvian backyard tied to a chair in broad daylight with an apple between his teeth. So I go, “Yeah, ok.” Then he tells me John Steinbeck and his ex-wife were found on the front lawn of a house in Monterey in broad daylight tied together by their pubic hair. So I go, “Takes dexterity.” Imagine. I am a Yankee. He is a stranger. So he goes, “Those writers all drink too much.” So I go, “I’m a writer.” And he goes and backs off.