Letters for July 4, 2002

Just a note of thanks from us’n yokels in Carson City for sending your sophisticated reviewer Monica Czernek to see our production of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. It’s not often that we get visitors from world-class culture centers like Reno, probably because, as Miss Czernek points out, our entertainments tend too often to feature livestock. We’re sorry that the show didn’t measure up to her exacting standards but would like to point out, in defense of our young actors, that this was the first time any of them had ever appeared on stage without live pigs and chickens, and they were understandably edgy.

Also, in reference to Miss Czernek’s comment that some of the cast members were “concerned with the placement of their feet,” we would like to remind her that here in Carson City, we learn at an early age to keep our eyes peeled for cow patties. As for putting 90 actors on stage at one time, we thank Miss Czernek for reminding us that this is never done and can say only that we must have mistakenly given in to our herd instinct.

Well, thanks again. We really enjoyed the review, although we wish that Miss Czernek had not used difficult words like “inexplicably” and “encompasses” and foreign terms like “via.” Her mention of cat herding in paragraph four, however, was thrilling.

Bob Reid
Carson City

Getting wasted, thinking political
Re: “In the Trenches with Mike & Bob” [RN&R, June 20]:

Mourning in Trenchtown—the hopes and tears, and all those jeers—the trenchies have been overrun. OK, so it was fairly sparse staffing around the Futile bunker; never much more than a single carnival barker. But a rout is a rout, and the furniture is all jostled.

But here’s to you, Mr. Robinson. Jesus loves you more than we can say. Hey, hey, hey. Your shit is smelling pretty good, this a.m. Judge Hardesty gets to take the rap for all those angry anti-bowling, pro-Mapes “good citizens” you and Mike Tracy got all riled. Hardesty gets to face the wrath of the electorate, not the current mayor. If there were only some way we could punish the Nevada Constitution.

But Mike, you’re “One of Us.” (It says so on your sign.) You and me and rainbows. Judge Hardesty did you a big fat favor. I know he’ll get your vote.

An aroused electorate, foaming with trenchmouth, might have soiled the September ballot, but it wouldn’t have done you a rat’s ass of good in November. The dismayed can now fly your yard signs and tie silver ribbons in their hair.

Gloating is for chumps. This was designed to create bitterness, Mike—bitterness you could reap for a fat job in City Hall. Your ship has arrived. Singing sea shanties will not dry the tears at the pier. One more grudge thrown on the fire, another monkey wrench in the gears of democracy.

Hardesty may have struck a blow for process, but the fabric has been stained. A bitter day in Trenchtown, except for one happy soul, whistling in the dark.

Frank Patten
Reno

Editor’s note: We have several frequent letter writers who contribute poetry and prose that provide us with many fine moments of reading enjoyment. One such writer is Danny L. Stewart, who has plenty to say about the University of Nevada, Reno. In his deeply allegorical letters, Stewart refers to a current UNR administrator as “Cyclops.” Sometimes he signs letters, “Munchkin #1939.” In a letter last month, Stewart alluded to this “lord and master” gathering up all the slaves after having been sent by the “high regents” to eliminate them.

“The Cyclops said, ‘How many and how soon?’

‘July would be nice, say, by the fourth. Hey, we would save all that holiday pay if all the slaves were eliminated no later than the third. Then we could hire more instructors for the little children.’ “

Last week Stewart contributed the following:

One-eyed bugger
I think this applies to our current Cyclops:

“Seagull manager: A manager who flies in, makes a lot of noise, craps on everything and then leaves.”

Danny L. Stewart
Reno