Let’s take a trip down bad memory lane:
In November of 2000 I spent a two weeks in Silver City, New Mexico. I was ostensibly there on business but halfway through the trip I was informed that the company I worked for was ceasing operations. During the second week I showed up each morning worked until lunch then went to drink near the spot where Pat Garret shot Billy the Kid. It was a nice way to spend afternoons in November.
Billy the Kid was from New York, born in Brooklyn, and he probably headed west with no intention of taking his last breath in Silver City New Mexico. I had left New York for Los Angeles just 18 months earlier and things had not gone according to plan. I wondered if as he lay dying alone in the dark stillness of Silver City, Billy the Kid wished he had never left home.
There’s a point to this but I’ll get to it later, until then feel free to draw your own conclusions as to why I’m thinking of this.