Chicken Ranch report no. 12

So we've come to suspect that H1N1 has infiltrated the homefront. In a lemons-into-lemonade kind of way, this has been good for my writing. With everyone else lying around lethargic, there's nowhere we're going or the like. So, other than the lack of sleep from staying up late with vomiting children, I've been able to put my waking hours to good, writerly use.

As I write my way deeper into the book, I'm coming across a surprising number of serendipitous realizations. Nothing earthshaking, mind you, nothing that makes me shout, "AH-HA! This proves Lee Harvey Oswald didn't act alone!" Even so, they're significant to me. For instance, several disparate facts lying around--most of which are well-known to people who've written or read up on the Chicken Ranch before--but as I'm writing they click together with a few other bits and pieces I've unearthed all the way, and suddenly, blam!, it's like staring cross-eyed at a colorful, pixellated poster for hours on end before it suddenly resolves itself into a 3-D image of a possum eating a watermelon or somesuch. Only in my case, a timeline magically appears where none existed before, complete with dates, records and motivations, effectively bridging a gap where before only innuendo and hearsay held sway. That's cool.

These random discoveries have also helped me deal with an over-abundance of information. Believe it or not, the history of the Chicken Ranch is a feast-or-famine affair, with certain eras utterly devoid of meaningful information, whereas other eras the cup runneth over. This is particularly true in the case of tangential stories and events, those that aren't necessarily about the Chicken Ranch per se, but the people and events around it that provide a much-needed context, allowing the reader to understand why and how things unfolded as they did. Too many tangents overwhelms the main narrative, but what to do when one particular tangent is pretty darn significant? Enough so that folks may well ask why I skipped over it? Well, in the course of double-checking some dates, I came across a previously-unknown newspaper archive online that included articles on that particular event. More importantly for my immediate needs, it was kind enough to inform me that Jim Flournoy--the man who'd later become Fayette County Sheriff and a major figure later on in my book--was deeply involved in the event, something I'd not come across before. Armed with this new knowledge, I'm moving this particular tangent later in the book, so as to flesh out Sheriff Flournoy's early career more effectively. Pretty cool how this works out, eh? Here's a sample of the latest:

Cooperation, mostly, seemed to be the key in forming a lasting alliance between the brothel and the sheriff’s office. Law enforcement everywhere maintained useful networks of informants who’d pass along information overheard from the underworld. In La Grange, this boiled down to the fact that petty criminals tended to brag about their exploits to whatever pretty whore they happened to be bedding. Miss Jessie made sure to pass any such confessions along.

And yes, I am still on track to finish this chapter by the 15th, which will give me an even-money shot at wrapping up the next chapter by New Year's Eve. Momentum, as they say, is a wonderful thing.

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Friday Night Videos

"Superstition." Probably Stevie Wonder's greatest song. There is a hard edged, funky genius about it that cannot be denied.



Previously on Friday Night Videos... The Traveling Wilburys.

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Chicken Ranch report no. 11

Just a very short update for you tonight. Rest assured, I had another good night of writing (what's up with that?) and the words are flowing as spice must (Dune reference, for non-skiffy types). But I had to share this one sentence, which I've desperately wanted to write since the idea for this book first took root in my fevered brain:

Neither version is accurate, but the first tale is unique in its almost complete disconnect from reality.

Yes, I do demolish the wrongheaded, misguided and just downright bad writings of a writer who hath trod this ground before me. I confess to enjoying it a bit too much.

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Chicken Ranch report no. 10

Another good night of writing. I'm sort of in a state of disbelief. I've hit something of a sticking point, so that's as good a place to hang it up for the night as any, but I can clearly see what lies on the other side. This is good. At this rate (knock wood) I may actually hit my goal of finishing this chapter by the middle of next week. And I'm about to jump head long into my own primary research, which should be loads of fun (just the raw quotes from the interviews I'll be using in this chapter take up 20 pages, so I've no shortage of material).

While the Chicken Ranch is fondly remembered for the most part, and by most accounts offered the women there some measure of safety and security, the vast majority of prostitutes in Texas had neither. It was a hard life, and often the ending was tragic. Here's a sample of tonight's work:

Although the system offered a degree of protection, a woman’s value only amounted to her ability to bring in money. One Austin police officer took note of a well-known prostitute, Georgetown Ella, who’d fallen deathly ill. With their mother unable to work, Ella’s four children faced the likelihood of starvation, and the brothel’s owner, Charley Cooney, was not the type of man to show compassion to any of them. Society in general was not apt to show much compassion, either.

On a brighter note, I picked up two pieces of Chicken Ranch memorabilia off Ebay this week. Neither item was ever actually produced by or sold at the real Chicken Ranch. One was a money clip, which are pretty common, but this showed up at a cheap price and I couldn't resist. The other, a wine glass, features a Chicken Ranch logo. I've never seen such a glass before, so it's an intriguing find. I figure this was either sold as a souvenir at the failed Dallas restaurant or marketed in La Grange in the mid-80s, during the very brief time when they attempted to commercialize the defunct brothel. Either way, they're nice additions to my collection.

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Chicken Ranch report no. 9

I'm jinxing myself by writing this, I know, but I had a productive writing session last night. After flailing with yet another awkward transition, I caught some traction and had some nice momentum going by the time I called it quits. I just saw an online posting I made back in July where I commented that I hoped the book would be finished by the end of this year. Alas, that's not going to happen--not by a long shot. I'm even behind schedule on my revised timeline, due to a spectacularly unproductive November. Evenings such as I experienced last night give me hope, however. If I can manage that same degree of production the rest of the week, it is entirely reasonable for me to finish the current chapter by the 15th. That would leave me a little over two weeks to get another chapter finished before the end of the year, which would mean a third of the book in the can. That'd be enough to polish up and send off to publishers for consideration.

The big drawback with that plan is the fact that I have two weeks of holidays coming up. That time off from work is tempting to think of as writing time, but my family's also off. I've learned from experience that family time and travel is a mighty powerful black hole that sucks up free time like you wouldn't believe. But still, it's nice to have goals.

Here's some of what I wrought last night. Obviously, I'm not restricting myself to the narrow history of the Chicken Ranch itself. There's a significant of historical context that's going into the book as well.

The ideas that sanctioned prostitution prevented rape and the spread of venereal disease were perhaps the most persistent arguments used by those in favor of a regulated sex trade, and ones that were commonly invoked to defend the Chicken Ranch as late as 1973. These "regulationists" were often police and medical practitioners, those who interacted and dealt with prostitution on an ongoing basis. From their perspective, the world's oldest profession had persisted and even thrived despite centuries of eradication efforts by countless cultures. The prohibition approach had undeniably failed. If prostitution could not be eliminated, then perhaps it could be contained and segregated so as to not corrupt polite society.

It also doesn't help my daily progress when I come across items in my notes and research materials that absolutely needs to go in a previous chapter. That means going back before I forget, inserting the stray material, rewriting the surrounding copy to fit, revising citations...

Now Playing: Various artists Doctor Demento Show 11/29/1997
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And this is what you get for shopping local

The Wife and I have made a conscious effort to shop local this year, avoiding big chains when possible and in general trying to make our spending impact the area economy in as positive way as possible. When it comes to photography, this means we've been making the trip into San Antonio to give our business to the Camera Exchange. Normally, our experience is good.

Today was not a good experience.

The Wife, who is a Certified Professional Photographer with PPA and the owner of Lisa On Location photography drove down there today, braving Friday traffic as well as rain-slick roads because she needed some professional advice on a purchase she needed to make. The sales associate who assisted her--and I use that word very loosely--not only soured a sure sale, but pretty much guaranteed we'll be taking our business elsewhere from now on. He was condescending. He refused to actually listen to what she was saying, instead deciding she didn't know what she was talking about. In short, he assumed she was a ditzy "Mom-With-Camera" photographer wanna-be and treated her with vaguely disinterested contempt. The Wife was so infuriated she called me from the parking lot to vent.

She never gets this kind of crappy treatment from Adorama or B&H. Those online photography superstores based in New York have much better prices than the Camera Exchange as well, but we've tried to eat that price difference to support the local guys. And this is the thanks we get. Folks wondering why local businesses are failing need look no further--just once case of terrible customer service can negate years of good will in just a few moment. Let that be a lesson to everyone.

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Friday Night Videos

After a rough, stressful week I think we'll go with The Traveling Wilburys today to make everything better. Remember, handle with care.



Previously on Friday Night Videos... Aerosmith.

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