back EPISODE #6, PART 2, OCTOBER 2000 (words@bendpress.com) NAVAJO TACOS Date: 7/31/00 Andy, This is Monday and I finally checked my mail. Yesterday we walked around the Frontier Park just before the Rodeo. I got tired. But saw real long-horn steers that were neat and then saw 8 matched Percheron horses that were being hitched up to pull a neat wagon in the Grand entry parade—before the rodeo. Then I ate a Navajo taco and they (Dick and Jim) took me home. Love, —Helen Hart, Cheyenne, Wyoming STUMBLING TOWARDS BETHLEHEM Date: 8/1/00 Damn, Been meaning to reply to your new stuff for a week now. Sorry. I damn well know how it is to put your guts into something and get jack shit for response, so I made a promise to myself not to do that to anyone anymore. Of course, as I stumble towards Bethlehem I believe less and less in the laws of kharma; I know more successful assholes than successful nice-heads. I like everything, particularly that French guy’s postcard art and the story about defecating in the Girl’s girl’s room. Reminds me of my first poopie-doop at Gullwing, oddly enough, the male shitter was busted also. Which reminds me further: I remember Gator once coming out of the men’s room there and asking if anyone else ever tripped-out on the skull-shaped discoloration on the floor of the pooper. There’s some kinda lesson or metaphor there somewhere, I think. Maybe not. Continued life, —JP [Joe Polevy, Westford, Massachusetts] THE GARDEN OF EATING Date: 9/2/00 Call the number below and listen to the message. It’s a restaurant on Fairfax called ‘The Garden of Eating’. If that’s not bad enough, this guy does the lunch specials every day in a different accent or celebrity imitation. To hear it call 323-692-9700. —Michael Leon, Los Feliz, California WHO IS THIS? Date: 8/5/00 Andy, I once asked to be taken off your email list. I am still receiving messages and they are addressed not to my correct address but to melbend@pacbell.net. Could you please correct this problem. I cannot continue receiving email which has no connection with my work. Thanks, —Merna Tontat GREEN ACID Date: 8/8/00 I am hoping that more professional wrestlers will become involved with politics. But not the Green Kabuki. He might spit green acid on foreign diplomats and trigger armaggedon. —Michael Leon REMEMBER DANCING FISH? Date: 8/16/00 Not dating the punk rock guy. Now dating the farm guy. It’s odd how things can change so quickly. Not sure how permanent but we get along and that is what I need right now. It all sort of “snuck up on me”. When you least expect it, what comes out of friendship... blah, blah, blah. Its all good though. I have been writing a story (remember when you wanted people to write before) for like a year now. Need to complete it and then I’ll forward it. You can check it out. Music has been going well, makes me not watch TV and is soothing. Planning on going to CA next March to go on a Death Valley trip with friends. Going to see the spring bloom in the desert. Wanted to come this summer but decided to go to NY. Will be going there in September. Solo trip. Good for the soul. It is good to like who I am again... —Slapperfish [Susan Lapper, Toronto, Canada] TALKING TO AUTO DIALERS Date: 8/17/00 I chipped my front tooth trying to gnaw that protective plastic wrapping off of a bottle of orange juice about ten minutes ago. How’s that for irony? I had this dream last night. I was at this lake that my parents used to take me to when I was a kid. Mabel Lake. Lots of people were on the beach for some reason. I see this kid in a rowboat far in the distance, and he’s going way too fast to be oaring, but he is. He hits the shore and jumps out of his boat all frantic. People are trying to communicate with him but it’s like they’re not even there. He runs up to the lifeguard and she crouches down to the little guy’s level to ask what the trouble was. Then he starts puking all over her. For a minute, she looked as if it wasn’t phasing her, but then she starts puking all over the place. No one is saying anything. I thought to myself “What kind of lifeguard pukes when she gets puked on?” and then I started feeling sick so I looked away, towards the lake, which had dried up while I was watching the vomiting. Little fish were drowning in air all over the place. Not rainbow trout, or bass, but little tropical fish like you see in a pet store. Then the phone woke me up. One of those auto dialers has been calling me every couple of days to ask if I or any member of my family has been involved in a serious car accident. I usually tell him no and hang up. It wasn’t the auto dialer today. I was kinda hoping it was. —Bob Kronbauer, Oceanside, California STRANGE INVADER IN A HAZY WORLD Date: 8/22/00 Hello, Mr. Jenkins (Andy if it sounds to impersonal) I have been an ardent reader of your online magazine, Bend Press, for three months now. Sounds weak, but I enjoy what I’ve seen so far, and think you a fabulous writer and editor. I was dismayed by the disproportionately long amount of time it took to come out with the current Bend Press, so much so that, after checking, daily, for an update for weeks, I was wont to send you an angry email with a simple UPDATE, YOU FUCKER! in the subject line. Direct and to the point... The internet’s a wonderful place. I am a student filmmaker in the developing stage of a young, but fertile, career. I read that and I cringe. But anyhow, being the excitable type, I often come by ingenious little nuggets, short stories that play on a projector in my head—inspiration (cringe cringe cringe) for stories I have the impetus to tell. Sometimes it’s a visual thing, sometimes it’s an emotional thing, sometimes it’s just for the mystery of it. Good writing’s hard to come by. Especially on the internet. But ideas... vision is a beautiful and splendid thing, something not to be wasted but not to be shunned for fear of futility. What strikes you—act upon it with everything, all the energy, because ultimately, weakness is inherent, and knowledge is only effort. Maybe I’m naive, but I hope I’m right. Vision So I had a whim—a fancy, would you say?—when I read your open letter to Paul Tough. For whatever reason, it struck me that this was a short film, a story to be told visually. Something that, deliciously, I could see. And suddenly I was transfixed by the idea of a strange invader in a hostile and hazy world, not unlike a mariner bashed on the head by a mossy rock only to stumble into a distant port and have people shun him because he has being—the most evil part would be that he doesn’t know, he isn’t allowed to feel anything other than strangeness. He is a stranger in his own being, a mental illness dulling everything but the memories grip on his past, and he has stumbled here only because he doesn’t know any better. I don’t know why, but I feel some kind of affinity for this character. It is a story that’s universal. So my question, in brief, is to borrow the letter for the purpose of transposing it into a short film essay. A study on human fragility. It is not my story to say what it will do, but I would hope you would give your blessing to the attempt to turn it into a vision, a nugget polished and worn something like gold. Thank you for your time, —Jared Farrish I AM GOING TO BE RICH . . . Date: 9/12/00 DEAR SIR, URGENT BUSINESS PROPOSAL AND STRICTLY CONFIDENTIAL IT IS MY PROFOUND INTENTION TO WRITE TO YOU THIS VERY IMPORTANT AND HIGHLY CONFIDENTIAL LETTER. I AM A RETIRED CIVIL SERVANT WITH THE NIGERIAN NATIONAL PETROLEUM CORPORATION (N.N.P.C.). DURING MY SERVICE I WAS IN-CHARGE OF OIL ALLOCATION DEPARTMENT. I GOT YOUR INFORMATION FROM YOUR ASSOCIATION E-MAIL DIRECTORY. I AM IN POSSESION OF THE SUM OF US$15,000.000.00 (FIFTEEN MILLION, UNITED STATES DOLLARS) WHICH I MADE THROUGH SERIES OF OIL DEALS AND AS COMMISSION GIVEN TO ME BY FOREIGN OIL BUYERS WHILE IN OFFICE. PRESENTLY, THIS FUND IS KEPT WITH A SECURITY COMPANY HERE IN NIGERIA. BASED ON THE GOVERNMENT MONETARY POLICY, IT IS NOT POSSIBLE FOR ME TO BANK OR INVEST THIS MONEY HERE IN NIGERIA. MORE SO, AS A FORMER PUBLIC SERVANT I WILL BE QUESTIONED. YOUR ASSISTANCE WILL BE HIGHLY NEEDED AS A FOREIGNER AND AS A PARTNER. I CAN ARRANGE FOR THE MONEY TO LEAVE NIGERIA THROUGH THE SECURITY AND COURRIER COMPANY VIA DIPLOMATIC IMMUNITY TO ARMSTERDAM, LONDON OR CANADA. WHERE THE SECURITY COMPANY HAVE DIPLOMATIC STATUS. THIS METHOD (DIPLOMATIC IMMUNITY) IS A SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT USED BY DIPLOMATIC OFFICIALS WHEN GOING ABROAD ON DIPLOMATIC MISSION. UPON THE RECEIPT OF YOUR ACCEPTANCE TO THIS PROPOSAL, I WILL IMMEDIATELY ARRANGE WITH THESE DIPLOMATIC OFFICIALS TO CARRY THIS MONEY ALONG IN YOUR FAVOUR, THEN YOU WILL ASSIST ME TO RECEIVE IT OVER THERE AS MY FOREIGN PARTNER. UPON RECEIPT OF THE FUNDS THE SECURITY COMPANY CAN ASSIST YOU TO OPEN A DOMICILLARY ACCOUNT WHEN NECESSARY OR ISSUE YOU A CERTIFICATE OF CLAIM/OWNERSHIP WHICH WILL ENABLE YOU MOVE THE MONEY FROM POINT OF COLLECTION TO KEEP IT IN A SAFE PLACE OR YOU COUNTRY, PENDING MY ARRIVAL TO JOIN YOU. MY PLANS IS TO USE THIS MONEY TO INVEST IN A PROFITABLE BUSINESS VENTURES IN ANY PART OF THE WORLD APART FROM AFRICA, ALSO TO PURCHASE A RESIDENCIAL ACCOMMODATION. I WILL THEN COME OVER AND SETTLE THERE WITH MY FAMILY BECAUSE OF THE PRESENT UNPREDICTABLE POLITICAL STUATION IN MY COUNTRY. PLEASE IF YOU ARE WILLING TO ASSIST ME, DO SEND IN YOUR REPLY IMMEDIATELY THROUGH MY TEL/FAX OR E-MAIL ADDRESS BASED ON THE FOLLOWING: (1) WHAT PERCENTAGE OF THIS AMOUNT DO YOU INTEND TO CHARGE FOR YOUR ASSISTANCE, PLEASE FEEL FREE TO EXPRESS YOUR MIND, (2) INCLUDING YOUR PRIVATE TELEPHONE FAX NUMBERS AND E-MAIL ADDRESS TO ENHANCE THE CONFIDENTIALITY, WHICH THIS BUSINESS DEMANDS. I SHALL INFORM YOU WITH THE NEXT LINE OF ACTION AS SOON AS I RECEIVE YOUR POSITIVE RESPONSE.THERE WILL BE NO CAUSE FOR WORRIES OR FEARS ABOUT THE TRANSACTION SINCE THE SECURITY COMPANY HANDLING THE TRANSACTION IS FULLY BACKED UP BY EXISTING INTERNATIONAL DIPLOMATIC IMMUNITY LAWS. PLEASE TREAT THIS LETTER WITH THE STRICTEST CONFIDENTIALITY AND UTMOST URGENCY. YOUR URGENT RESPONSE BY FAX OR E-MAIL SHALL BE HIGHLY APPRECIATED BEST REGARDS —UMARU F. . . . AND THE SUBJECT OF YOUR DREAMS Date: 9/20/00 You sold me a Laker’s flag for over one hundred dollars last night. You worked at a bike shop. I went to buy a new Standard bike frame, in white. You told me to wait because soon you were coming out with a bike that your company was making. I was to wait because it had the exact specs I was looking for. I decided to wait. But somehow you also sold me on two new BMX /SKATE magazines that were coming out. They were printed on really thin paper and had 300 pages plus. They reminded me of chick magazines like Vogue or Cosmo. “I’ll take one of each.” I said. You were also selling plastic wrapped Girl Skateboard catalogs for $2.95. I was surprised because I thought that they were free. Like a fool, I paid. When I left your store I was out $274, and I never got the frame, the reason I went to your store in the first place. I plan on seeing you again to return the Laker’s flag. I’ll keep the magazines. This story may sound boring, but if I had the pictures to go with it....... This is the dream I remember having last night. We never met. However I did read all of the writing on your site and they managed to stick to my brain and be release at their leisure. Your writings, like a fungus, grew together and developed a story with extremely visual images. I left a lot of small details out, but everything was related somehow to your writings. I just want to thank you for that, better then any TV show. —Michael Wikan back