Smoking With Grant Bailie

Read the Story March 15, 2005

“And, ah, to be sheep.” Not in this town. Does such a town exist in the world?

I guess not. Not now anyway—but end times, right? When the sheep lies down with the butcher, or something like that, if you believe in that sort of thing. Or maybe in cartoons.

I love that last line “someone else knew what it meant” and the way that thought echoes backwards throughout the rest of the piece. That’s just awesome. Did you know, when you were composing this flash, exactly what line it was building up to?

Nope. But thanks. I like that line too. Sometimes you write a line at the end of something and you think: oh yeah, it has to stop here. This works. I felt like with that one. But I have felt like that with other ones too and have been informed to the contrary, so thank you for the validation.

Right after graduation, my college roommate was working on his advertising portfolio and came up with this awesome ad for cotton using Stevie Ray Vaughan’s blistering version of “Mary Had a Little Lamb.” How ruined he looked when I had to break the news to him that cotton comes from plants, not lambs. Anything else they do to sheep that we should all know about?

To be honest, I’m not even sure what they do to them now, but I imagine horrible horrible things that would make us think twice about that garish Christmas sweater.

Guess what word was the Dictionary.com Word of the Day on May 26, 2001? Damn, you’re good. Yes, abattoir. Any idea where you were on this day in question?

I have to say no, but if I find out later that is some important milestone for me and my wife I may need to borrow your couch for a few days.

You’ve got a novel. Most of us don’t. Anything we should know about it?

It makes a great coaster.

About the Author:

Grant Bailie is the author of the novels Cloud 8, Mortarville, New Hope for Small Men, and TomorrowLand, as well as numerous short stories and articles both in print and online.

About the Artist:

A native of Ohio, Marty D. Ison lives with his wife transplanted in the sands of the Gulf of Mexico. He studied fine arts at Saint Petersburg College. In addition to the visual arts, he writes poetry, short stories, and novels. See more of Ison's work here.