Tombstone Part II
That night John took me around to a bunch of the local bars (and believe me, for a town with a population of only 1500, they've got a hell of a lot of bars.) I met a good amount of people, including a retired nuclear physisict. I began to gather that Tombstone was a town that catered to your ultimate fantasy. As children we might say “I want to be a cowboy when I grow up.” These people did it. A lot of them are highly educated, highly successful people who just want to dress in chaps and boots and not be looked at funny for doing so. Tombstone allows this. I had a conversation with a couple who was vacationing there. The woman said they came at least twice a year, it was their favorite place in America. She said, “You can be anyone you want to be here.” And the more time I spent there the more obvious this became. Hardly anyone had a real “job.” There were no briefcases, double breasted suits or cubicles. Half the town's job was to get shot at fifty times a day and roll around in the dirt. Tombstone is a town where you never really have to grow up.