The Last Picture Show is one of my favorite novels. It was written in 1966 by Larry McMurtry. It is about the coming of age of two friends in a small Texas town. Needless to say, I was more than thrilled to bump into Larry McMurtry, while he was visiting his bookstore in Archer City, Texas.
Here is a following breakdown of my encounter.
Bookstore Clerk: Good Afternoon. How are you today.
Me: Good. I was hoping to buy a copy of the Last Picture Show here at Mr. McMurtry’s bookstore. Do you happen to sell autographed copies?
Bookstore Clerk: No. We don’t sell any of Larry’s work at the store. We have his son, James’, music; but we don’t sell any of Larry’s work.
Me: (Five second pause) Uh… why?
Bookstore Clerk: We just don’t.
Me: That’s weird.
Bookstore Clerk: There is nothing weird about it..
Me: Maybe not weird, but certainly ironic.
Bookstore Clerk: How so?
Me: You don’t think it’s ironic that a writer buys a bookstore and gets people to come to it by advertising the fact that it is his, and yet that the bookstore he made famous with his name doesn’t actually sell anything with his name on it?
Bookstore Clerk: (Said snarky) Personally, I don’t know why they don’t, but I don’t find it ironic.
Me: Now, I may not know much, but I certianly know that either you or I doesn’t understand the definition of “irony.”
Bookstore Clerk: Sorry we couldn’t help you.
Me: Can I send a book to him to get him to sign it?
Bookstore Clerk: (Said snarky) What do you want him to write in the book?
Me: Well, I guess his autograph. I mean, I don’t think I will be asking him to write me an original poem or the secret formula to Coca-Cola.
Bookstore Clerk: (Looks off to her right at a man sitting at a table out of earshot)
Me: (I follow her glance and notice that sitting at the table is Larry McMurtry) Is that Mr. McMurtry?
Bookstore Clerk: Yes. It is.
Me: I don’t want to intrude, but do you think I could ask him for a picture.
Bookstore Clerk: You can ask, but I am not sure if he will take one with you.
Me: What is the harm in asking?
Bookstore Clerk: Nothing. I guess.
Me: Mr. McMurtry, I hope I am not intruding.I am a huge fan of your work. Could I trouble you for a photo with me?
Mr. McMurtry: (Gruff) Well, I am not going to get dressed up to take the picture!
Me: As you are is fine with me
Bookstore Clerk: Where is your camera?
Me: Just outside the store. I will be right back.
(I am gone all of 15 seconds and Mr. McMurtry is walking toward a door in the back of the bookstore).
Bookstore Clerk: Let’s hurry this along. He is not in a good mood.
Me: That is why I asked him if I could take one. He’s a grown man and he can say no if he doesn’t want to take a picture with me.
Mr. McMurtry: I am not combing my hair!
Me: I wouldn’t expect you to Mr. McMurtry. I certainly didn’t.
Bookstore Clerk: One… Two… Three… (Click)
Me: (Said to his back as he was walking away a mere fraction of a second after the photo was taken) Thank you very much.
Summary: If you don’t want the fame that comes with being famous, then don’t cash the check when they try to give you money for your work.
It was a disappointment to meet him, and he was a royal pain in the ass. If my 35 second interaction was that excruciatingly bad, then he must live a sad life. I guess he was blessed with talent in the 1960’s and it robbed him of being a decent human being for the rest of his life.
