Super Psycho Magnet

Dear Sir,

I should start by apologizing for this apology being slightly after the fact. After 14 years some would say that it’s too little too late, but hey, what’s a few years between friends?

When I first saw you, I was 11 years old. I thought you were cute even under all that cake make-up, straw hat and overalls. The first time I actually meet you was the first week, of my first year in high school. It was the first Drama Club meeting of the year. That was the day I got my nickname for the rest of the year. ((My sister had graduated 3 years prior so the people that were freshmen when my sister graduated were seniors when I was a freshman.)) For the rest of the year I was known as the Little Sister.

Moving on, I remember watching you as Sergent-at-Arms and thinking about how cute you were. I also remember thinking that you could never like someone so much younger, and you probably already had a girlfriend, and I should probably just shut up and go about my business.

I didn’t. No surprise there. Somehow I worked my way into your group of friends and made my own mark. And you did notice me. And somehow we started dating.

I think it was the fact most of my friends were seniors that brought on my delusions of grandeur. I was the only freshman I knew who was hanging out with the cool Drama Club seniors (Jesus H. Christ, I’m a nerd). When someone suffers from the feeling of being much greater then they really are they tend to take things for granted. They tend to take people for granted.

That’s exactly what I did to you. You were always good to me. You opened doors and always paid for my way. We talked for hours on the phone and in person. You comforted me when I was upset. You were the only person to visit me when I had mono for three weeks, knowing that you would inevitably get sick too (and you did).

For all that you did for me, the only thing I have to do is apologize for the way I treated you.

It’s really easy to sit here and say that it was because I was young and I didn’t know any better. I knew right from wrong by the time I was five. It really boils down to the fact that I was a brat, and maybe I still am. I always wanted what I wanted, when I wanted it and it didn’t matter who else was there.

For all the things I did, I’m sorry.

Sincerely,

Walter Bean
Chief of Master Plans

I can’t remember the last time I was able to say that.

When I was in Hawaii, everyone I worked with with was married, had children, or both and no one would say, “Hey, it’s been a rough day. Lets go get a drink after work.”

It’s been almost two years since someone has said that to me. Until tonight.

Granted we stayed for less then an hour but I cannot tell you how good it felt to sit at a table with friends from work and discuss…. nothing really. Just to sit there and blather about nothing. It was awesome.

Don’t get me wrong. The friends I have are awesome and I would move the world for them. It’s just been so long since I’ve been able to go out with people and do nothing.

The feeling I have at the moment is indescribable.

It’s the closest I’ve felt the being myself in over two years.

Girl Fest!!! Girl Fest!!! Girl Fest!!! Girl Fest!!! Girl Fest!!! Girl Fest!!! Girl Fest!!! Girl Fest!!! Girl Fest!!! Girl Fest!!! Girl Fest!!! Girl Fest!!!

Woot.

It’s Girl Fest starting tomorrow night (Friday) and I’m so happy I could crap my pants.

Not only do I get to see Joan of Arcadia and make the decision for myself if she’s actually a good poet or if she’s just riding her name as far as it will go…. I ALSO get to see Andrea Gibson, a poet that I’ve heard a few of her poems and liked them. Really, I’m just excited because a poet that I’ve actually heard of it coming to the Hawaiian Hut.

Come Hell or high water I will be there. Hopefully, I’ll also be able to attend other events on other nights but I know for sure that I will be there for the kick-off Friday!!!

There are many misconceptions, I’m sure, about the life of Hunter S. Thompson. I’ve always liked his work. Admittedly, I didn’t know who he was until I saw Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. After I saw the movie and started doing some research I found that I really liked the rest of his work and have a Hunter S. Thompson Library that continues to grow.

Last week my roommate and I were browsing through a book store when we came across yet another biography of Thompson. Having just received the one written by his wife, I was a little skeptical. I was even more skeptical after thumbing through and realizing that his wife took no part in the making of the book.

Atherton and I decided not to buy the book under the condition that we would do more research before committing to it. Two days later this was posted on Anita Thompson’s blog.

I’ve always been curious about truth and wanted to find it. I’ve always been curious what it was like to be him and to have his mindset. I want to take the drive from L.A. through Barstow and into Las Vegas. I want to “go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look West, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark — that place where the wave finally broke and rolled back.” I want to know if I have the right kind of eyes.

After seeing this post from Mrs. Thompson today I couldn’t be more happy that I didn’t buy the offending book.

This is a very sad day for me, reading the LA times review of Jann Wenner’s book. The reviewer was too sloppy to understand that Jann never forgave Hunter for leaving Rolling Stone. So, using a cheap parlor trick, Jann excerpted and paraphrased bits of interviews to weave a tall tale to trash Hunter.

Hunter wrote more in the last 5 years of his life than he had in the previous 15, along with fighting and winning a beautiful legal battle for Lisl Auman. Hunter believed in the triumph of the human spirit. John Nichols from the Nation has said, and I agree, that some of Hunter’s most savage and inspiring political writing was in his ESPN columns during the last years of his life.
What the L.A. Times reviewer fails to notice is that in addition to Hunter “using” people around him, the truth is that Hunter was surrounded, much of his life, by leeches (many of who grace the pages of the book). It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to recognize the many people did TAKE, TAKE, TAKE from Hunter and gave very little in return. Hunter helped people, especially Jann, make a lot of money, while sitting at his typewriter. Today is no exception.

Here is the letter that I wrote to Jann, the day that I had to tell him the book was a FRAUD, and that I could not write a forward or include an interview — which was SCARY, because I felt very much alone. Jann is rich and powerful, and I was warned by friends that Jann would try to destroy me if I said “no” to him. He offered me a lot of money and ad space in his magazine to include my interview and forward. In the end, however, the best people to defend Hunter are his readers.

Jann:
In my refrigerator I have a jar of mayonnaise, a two tangerines, 1/2 carton of soy milk and a few boxes of dried spaghetti. And I also have an overdrawn bank account, $43 in my wallet, and no car. So, I really, REALLY could use that money! But I need to let you know that I’m sticking with my original decision I made many months ago – that I can’t be a part of [your book] in any shape or form. I hope you understand. If readers believe that the bits and pieces of interviews you weaved together tell an accurate story, there is nothing I could possibly write in a 500 word forward to sway them. Defending him in a forward would be futile. So, I’m out. And yes, let’s part ways.

Rolling Stone [and especially US Weekly] is such a huge success financially… You have accumulated a mass amount of power and wealth over the last 40 years — Why do you have to use it against Hunter? It would have been so beautiful if you would have used that power to compile, into a book, a bunch of humiliating personal interviews about someone like Paul Wolfowitz, Cheney, Rice, or Rumsfeld or Armitage or Even Bush. Why Hunter? You walked around at both memorial services in a constant state of tears and made people trust you to sit down and do interviews with Corey. I know you and Hunter had some problems over the years… [but] I don’t understand the level of venom employed here. Why?

You couldn’t deny the fact that yes, as soon as he left Rolling Stone, you portray him as an awful beast of a man. But you also couldn’t deny the fact that all these people loved him dearly “all the way to the end”. The reason peopled loved him is because he is one of the rare human beings who is essentially decent, with moments of rotten behavior.

I wish I could appeal to your sense of decency and that you would burn this awful manuscript. It would be the right thing to do. I realize you’re probably laughing at me to even suggest it. Oh Well.

One of my first nights working with Hunter on a project here in the kitchen was in 1999 on the second letters book. I wrote about it in one of the essay portions of my 3 hour Columbia entrance exam. On this night, there were several letters to [and from] you up for consideration…Many people lobbied to include those nasty ones. Hunter humored them for a while. But he wouldn’t run them in the end.

THAT is why “people loved Hunter all the way to the end.” Because no matter how vicious he could be, he was essentially decent in a huge way. And when he did attack people, it was only those who were in a position to defend themselves.

Anyway, I know I’ve pissed you off and it’s probably not the best strategy for me to make an enemy of you. But I love Hunter, and hate to see his friend bash him to pieces… and hope to god that you just go with your heart and reconsider this whole project. If you want to publish embarrassing interviews about me, so be it. I’ve learned to deflect cheap shots. Just lay off Hunter, he’s dead. Won’t you???

Regardless, I wish you some peace and forgiveness in your life.
Sincerely,
Anita

(May 23, 2007)

regarding “oral biography” about Hunter S. Thompson

One last thought for Mrs. Thompson.

I know there is little possibility that you’ll ever read this but if you do I would like to thank you. I want to thank you for telling the truth about Hunter. I want to thank you for being who you are and not giving into the monetary rewards you could have accepted. I want to thank you for standing up for what you know to be right. I also want to thank you for not backing down.

The book you wrote helped me as I know it helped you. I hope you can take comfort in the fact that there is at least one person who won’t give into the hype caused by people who are looking for monetary gain and more popularity than is probably deserved. It those type of people that I fear and loath the most.

Thank you for keeping his true spirit alive.

The ponies gather and gossip. This is their favorite time of the day!

Josie knows there’s something wrong. She can smell it in the air. She’s had these feelings before and they’ve gone ignored. Something is different this time.

Josie tries to interject her feelings but as usual the other two ignore her and go about their gossip session.

Suddenly, out of the sky appear three looming figures!

At once everyone realizes that Josie’s uneasy feelings were correct! It’s the dreaded aliens from the planet DOTS!!!

“It’s no use hiding! We can find you with our mind tricks,” says Tribelgarg. “We are prepared to fight for we need your planet. We have destroyed ours and now we covet that which you hold so dear and take for granted!”

The battle immediately ensues. There’s a thrash of hooves and toothpick like limbs. They have decided to settle their dispute like “men”. As you know, wars like this are never pretty.

Most of the pictures of the battle are too brutal to actually show. Let’s just say it was a pretty nasty battle.

Frabgrablat gets too close to the hurricane like hooves of Josie. No one has survived the vicious attacks from the Chuck Norris speed of Josie’s kicks.

There is a man down. The aliens from DOTS were not expecting this!!!

“Frabgrablat! Can you hear me?” cries Henry. “Frabgrablat, you can’t be…” Henry can no longer speak. The sobs in his throat have now erupted. He collapses into an inconsolable mess on the ground. He can’t believe it. Frabgrablat was his best friend and now he was gone forever.

Tribelgarg and Henry are speechless. They never thought their actions would lead to the death of one of their own. They were convinced they were invincible.

The memorial service starts.

Out of respect, the ponies join their foes in mourning the loss of a soldier, a friend, a brother.

Sparkle can’t take it anymore. “This fighting has gone on long enough and it hasn’t done any good what-so-ever! I should know that war is no good. How do you think I lost my foot? It was in the defense of our planet against the Evil Gnomes. I’ve never forgotten that blood and I’ll never be able to. My foot was bitten off by a gnome right before I slashed his pointed red head off. I’m scarred for life now. Both emotionally and physically. Let’s stop this madness!!!”

Sparkle makes her offering of glow sticks. The aliens agree and they start to party.

The aliens remember they brought massive amounts of booze and they all have a great time.

The rest is a very blurry history.

This is not supposed to be symbolic of anything. It’s called boredom. That’s the extent of it. There are no political messages other than we should just learn to get along, damnit.

I’ve discovered my super-power. I’ve got the uncanny ability to find the good things that were directly or indirectly caused from bad situations.

I’ve always known that I’ve had this power to an extent. I didn’t realize exactly how strong it was until I challenged to think of five things that have already happened that I would change. I was told that these five things could be any event that happened in my lifetime or before. They could be personal or global. Any. Five. Things.

Here’s where my super-powers kicked in. I can’t think of one thing I would change.

I’ve racked my brain trying to think of any unhappy event I’ve been directly or indirectly effected by. My brain always goes to the good things that came out of the situation.

Examples:

- Personal: Hawaii. I first thought that if I hadn’t came here my life wouldn’t be in the state it’s in now. I would be a lot happier at home and I know a few people that would be much happier as well. However, if I hadn’t came here I wouldn’t have my puppy and we’re already learned how much I love my puppers.

- Global: The Iraq war. Some might call me selfish for this but if there were never a war in Iraq I wouldn’t have gone to Iraq. This is a problem for the following reasons:

1. I wouldn’t have meet Karyn.

2. I wouldn’t have reenlisted.

3. I wouldn’t have came to Hawaii which takes me back to the personal.

This is how my thought process goes. Sometimes I dwell a little too long on the bad things but eventually I will get to the good that came out of it. It is the butterfly effect that is my cerebration.

So, it’s not that I’m ignoring my assignment. It’s just that I can’t think of anything that I would change. I’ll keep working on it but, at this point, it’s not looking like I’ll be able to complete it.

Tonight at midnight my experimental stay as a vegetarian ends. It’s been a good 30 days. It’s been so good, in fact, that I’m going to stick with it. There has only been one day in the past 30 that I’ve really wanted to eat the flesh of a living creature. That was the day we visited the shrimp truck.

While my sister and brother-in-law were here we took a drive up to the North Shore. One the way we stopped by Giovanni’s Shrimp Truck. Just the thought of the wonderful smell emanating from that beautiful little truck is making my mouth water. The combination of garlic and butter is enough to make me melt in my flip-flops to this day. Alas, the only thing I could do at this shrimp truck was take pictures.

Lucky for me they had a truck perpendicular that sold smoothies and pineapple. So, while my sister and brother-in-law chomped on their 12-dollar plate of shrimpy goodness I munched on fresh sweet pineapple straight from the plantation. I tried to do so happily but I must confess the entire time I was wishing I could have just one garlicky shrimp. I know Carly or Doug would have given one or two over but I stuck to my guns and didn’t ask. I did make a promise to myself that day that if I ever add any type of meat back into my diet Giovanni’s Shrimp Truck will be the first place I go!

I know there are going to be a few other challenges ahead. Christmas will be difficult because every year, with out fail, my Aunt Eileen makes the best Crab Dip in the world, ever. My eyes are starting to well up from the thought that I won’t get to eat it again. Unless they create a crab alternative but even then my Aunt would not spoil her perfect recipe with such a disgrace to the word “crab”. On the bright side, the rest of my family will be happy with their bigger portions. Thanksgiving will be a challenge as well due to my Uncle Joe’s Clams Casino. Both of these have been a family tradition for as long as I can remember. At least still have my Aunt Therese’s buttermilk biscuits with honey butter to look forward to!

A while back I told you about a certain friend that betrayed everything I thought was good in love, humanity and friendship. I was completely devastated by her duplicity. I should have known something was wrong when she stopped calling and writing me. I figured it was because she was busy and out of town. She knew what she was doing would hurt me and that keeping it from me would hurt worse. She did it anyway.

I got some news today that has restored my faith in the universe. I won’t go into details. All I’ll say is that my belief in Karma had been solidified.

I’ve decided if I were a Care Bare I would be Karmic Retribution Bear. I would be a black bear with a picture of a scowling face on my tummy. My Care Bare Stare would produce a black rainbow with white letters that say, “You’ll Get Yours One Day!” However, I wouldn’t be the bear that imposes the retribution. That wouldn’t be my job to determine. I would simply issue the warning. I would sit back and let nature take her course. When the universe centers herself again my stare would be the most beautiful and bright ROY G. BIV rainbow you’ve ever seen in your life, and instead of being all black I would turn Technicolor.

Right now? I’m glowing with all the colors of Fantasia and you can find the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow streaming out of my belly.

As of midnight tonight I’m not eating meat for 30 days. I don’t know where it came from. Possibly the interest of experimentation. Possibly the want to challenge myself. Possibly boredom. Actually, yeah, I’m going with number three (3).

Regardless of reason, I’m going to do it!

Shockingly enough I didn’t take a late night trip to McDonalds to load up on double cheeseburgers and Big Mac’s like I usually do when I decide to “diet” or start eating differently. Instead, I went food shopping earlier tonight and built what I consider to be a solid base for my experiment. I’ve also got a great vegan cookbook and this island is pretty damn veggie-friendly.

Here goes nothing.

I love my dog.

There is no question about it. She’s the best friend I could ask for. We learn more and more from each other everyday. Pretty much the only human contact I have outside of work is her or because of her. I’m shockingly ok with this though. The more time I spend with her the more I hate people. She doesn’t talk back, she listens to my opinions without judgement and she loves me unconditionally. She’s my perfect companion.

However, since we do get to spend so much time together I think we’re starting to rub off on one another. Example: Yesterday I walked to the tobacconist and I tried to sniff the clerk’s butt. What? It’s a simple yet effective greeting.

As for Betsy… this morning she was playing with something, having a grand old time, and then it happened. She snorted. Just like her Mom. It was the K-9 equalivilant to the human giggle-snort.

My dog giggle-snorted.

And this is why I love her.