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Here's my fun Killdozer story: years ago when I worked in a gallery in Colorado a young lady came in one day and I struck up a conversation with her, as was my job. Turns out she was from Granby, and I, being an ever-so-charming goon, immediately said "oh wow were you there for Killdozer?" Smooth, right? Really professional, young BFM. As it turned out yes, she was there for that event, and her family knew Marvin Heemeyer, and she was really profoundly sad that I had referred to him by that name, it was like I had kicked her dog or something. She talked to me for 20 incredibly awkward minutes about how sad his story really was, how she still felt really bad for him, that the town didn't deserve being known just for one mentally unstable person's drawn-out disastrous suicide and she was tired of people thinking it was funny or cool in any way because it wasn't. She left, deflated and sad, and I still to this day feel like a total prick for ruining her nice Saturday afternoon looking at paintings by being crass about a local tragedy. True story!
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Aug 3, 2020 04:25
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| # ¿ Apr 26, 2024 06:13 |
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