Jim's Books

On March 17, 2009, I wrote a story called “Jim Striby was my friend”. Here’s another Jim Striby story that just came to mind.

We had traveled to Dallas, Texas in the early 70’s , most likely for the NAEA convention (National Association of Art Educators). In any case, we were in a hotel looking out, as I remember, on Dealey Plaza, the place where John Kennedy had been assassinated. This was a memorable sight as I looked out of my hotel window for the first time. However, the story is not about this.

Jim and I had never traveled together before where we shared a hotel room. It was certainly a better use of institutional funds, and was fine with me. We traveled for many years together after this and became accustomed to our own idiosyncrasies and it had always worked out well.

It was bed time that first night, and we each were in our beds reading when Jim got up to get an extra pillow, sitting at the top of the closet. He asked me if I wanted one and I declined.

While he was standing at the closet door getting the pillow, he said, “Wait a minute, what’s this?” I looked up and Jim had taken down a pile of paper backed books, at least six or seven of them. He started to look through them and than he laughed and came over to my bed. He showed me a pile of pornographic novels full of photos.

I said, “OK, here we are in a hotel room together, and you now come over to see me with a hand full of dirty pictures and want my reaction!” Jim laughed, turned red and returned to his bed explaining that he wasn’t doing that on purpose

I kept laughing, knowing it was only the circumstances we found ourselves in. Someone apparently left this pile rather than take them home.

In those days, way before the internet, this was expensive and rare junk to find. We were delighted with our treasures, and happily perused them.

When the convention was over, Jim asked me if I wanted to take the books with me. I thanked him and told him I’d split them with him.

He assured me he would not be taking them, because if the plane went down, and we were no longer, and his wife received his luggage and she found the books, she’d kill him!

Yes, I did take the books!