Once upon a time, and all stories start with Once upon a time, on this day, forty-two years ago, on Friday the 13th, a bright-eyed 2 pound-9 ounce pain-in-the-crotch son-of-a-bitch arrives at a hospital, and immediately begins screaming.

“The lights are too bright! The room is too cold! No one is ready to throw a party in my honor! Someone call the caterers! Where are the paparazzi cameras? Places, people, places!”

The authorities immediately kidnap him, and throw him into a jailhouse glass box. Adorned in a blue blanket, the mandatory uniform of male new arrivals, he screams his lungs out, until he is exhausted. When he wakes up, again, he screams some more. This pattern continues for eight weeks.

So begins the life of an outlaw, a writer-in-arms, a coyote in a wool blanket.