Excitement mounted as I drove the last twenty mile stretch from Seligman to Ash Fork, and I musted to calm myself. I had seen G.B.'s face, but only in short bursts of light from passing cars, so I had left Arizona with at most, a vague impression of his head. I did not know if he was tall or short, fat or thin, handsome or homely. I only knew I loved the beautiful music of his slow southern voice and the tender loving words he spoke each time he phoned me in Canada.
I decided he would be wearing gorgeous hand tooled leather cowboy boots, a big Stetson hat and a western style suit.
Our rendezvous was the "Bus Depot" at eight-fifteen a. m. When I walked into the cafe' "dressed and groomed," I stared intently into each man's face. They looked, but no one rose to greet me. I turned when I heard the front door open and saw a man of medium height standing in the doorway. He was dressed in khaki work shirt and pants, steel toed work boots and an old straw cowboy hat.
"Are you G.B.?" I asked the man.
"Oh. . . " he replied, "a red-head, I thought y'all was a blonde."
G.B. had a fine straight back, but a decided bow to the legs, and I couldn't see any sign of hair beneath his straw hat. This was definately not the Adonia for whom my mother was hoping. "Before I take y'all to y'all's motel, I'm fixin' to show y'all somethin'." I left Ludwig Van Volkswagon parked at the cafe' and London my faithful sheepdog and I climbed into G.B.'s company pick-up.
G.B. drove in a westerly direction through town and on down Route 66. I studied his face as he chatted and I thought it looks so , used. His chin had been split and mended in several places and his nose. . . was one of a kind. I could not associate my new love with his face.
"G.B. and the Strange Canadian Painter Lady"
By Charlotte Madison and Nana Cook copyright 1994
G.B. Madison
The Wild Ol' Okie Boy
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