<p>Richard Brautigan, western writer</p>

<p>Richard Brautigan had to talk, needed listeners to feel his thoughts. So, when he was alone, he saddled up and rode his keyboard, stopping to pick up apostles, penguins and sexy girls, spout- ing tall tales through his handlebar moustache all the way to his hometown, iDeath, where he never once said &ldquo;I wish I had a glass of watermelon juice.&rdquo;&nbsp;</p>