Elephant Bones

I was swinging a hammer at Bill Hewlett's old house today. I could not help to think that it no longer mattered whose house it once was, as the new owner has removed and changed so much that only the skeleton of the old place remained. Knowing that the Hewlett's came here after attending the many gala and opening night events that helped put bread on my table (in addition to many other bay area artists) gave me a faint and fleeting feeling of connectedness.