A Hard Rain, p. 5
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We were willing to take a chance at dinner at Joe Bob’s, even though some of the customers seemed to reach for their holsters when Judy asked what was on the menu for a vegetarian. The people, some sitting at the bar and others at the pool table, all seemed to know one-another. And they all seemed friendly and normal enough until the bartender came up and asked us what we wanted to order.

  He was wearing a clown’s nose and some poorly-applied makeup. I stifled my curiosity and said nothing, fearful that his nose had been bitten off in a bar fight and this was the best prosthetic he could afford. Although my first thought was that I was again caught up in the Fellini film that seems to follow me everywhere, I soon discovered that it was “costume night” at Joe Bob’s, with prizes for the best outfit. Judy and I were not contenders.

Driving back to Reno over the hills from Carson City was not fun. I drove Judy’s 4Runner through the heavy head-on snow, which would have been distracting enough without her exclaiming “isn’t this beautiful,” at every turn. It seems that if you live out here in the desert long enough you come to look upon any precipitation with gratitude, even if at certain moments it may be life-threatening. Ask anyone at a the Donner Family Reunion dinner.		  
 
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