Friday, May 20, 2005

A letter to Nitsa's mom

Dear Mrs. Nitsa,
Recently your daughter made our acquaintance on the web. She mentioned that you are concerned about men she meets online, so I just want to say you don't have to worry about Nitsa mixing with the wrong sort. We're good boys. We don't pose as teens in chat rooms or any of that crap. No ma'am. Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Lar (left), and next to me is Len. We're a couple of photographer / writers from Milwaukee, Wisconsin who have been pals since 1978. We're the last of a dying breed, not unlike your Anasazi Indians. We believe a man should stand when a lady enters or exits a room. We think she should receive a bit of assistance when trying to put on her coat. Car doors are meant to be held open for her for easier entrance and egress from said conveyance. Len once wrestled a date to the floor in an effort to get the dinner check away from her.

Confidentially speaking, your daughter cuts a right smart figure of womanhood. She's got a good head on her shoulders and I'm almost positive she's still got all her own teeth. Thus, if we ever find ourselves in the 310 area code, I beseech you for permission to call upon Nitsa one afternoon. I'm sure she receives many gentlemen callers, but you'll be able to recognize us as we're the ones with the flowers and candy.

Photo by Chester Arthur Burnett

Caution, Mrs. Nitsa.

I know Chester, aka Backgammon Puppy Cube.

I have heard this kind of speech before.

I can hear it now. I can see the toothy grin. If you allow it, the voice becomes hypnotic, like that of Phil Silver, with a little Appalachian twang thrown in.

Chester stole that twang from me because of its devastating, Bible-belt-esque sincerity effect. I have used it on a number of occasions for ... good cause.

Don't listen to Theodore. He's a known commodity in the flim-flam market, frequenting Karaoke establishments and telling young impressionable Korean ladies that he is Phil Spector and he's there to offer them a recording deal in a new girl group yet to be named. Oh, yeah, Mr. "Wall-of-Sound" isn't all he appears to be.

This is not the case with Mr. Burnett. Sure, they called him "Smiley" back in the old days, but he was alway jovial and most courteous to the ladies. No worries. He's Ok.
hmmm.. the arguments you make is very convincing, well written and pretty tempting. I mean, you're actually going to hold the door open for me? I AM impressed!
But let me just say this: to love is simple; the relationship is the complicated part. so why not avoid it altogether?
(Didn’t I just close the door you held open for me? :)
Slammed it on our fingers!
Excuse my clumsiness... but Don’t you agree with me?
You are indeed correct, the loving is easy and the relationship is the hard part. Me? I've never shied away from the entanglements of relationship. Sure, I've gotten burned and even done some burning myself. I'd not trade a minute of it though. As long as I keep moving I know I'm not dead. As long as I keep trying, maybe I'll get it right. Avoid it? Never. Arrrr. Bring it on! It's Lar I worry about though. He's a sensitive mug who is easliy turned by a pretty face. In spite of his worldly appearance, he has the approach of the cute puppy who'd follow you anywhere and then once you get him you gotta feed him. Treat him gently.
does he have any experience as a photographer assistant? :)
Lar is a published photographer and author. He worked as a photog for the B.Artin Hage studio in Milwaukee, a perennial favorite at the Debutante's Ball every year. So, I'd have to say no, he doesn't know how to be an assistant. He is a pain in the ass though, if that's of any consequence?
Are you guy's buddists or what?
Nitsa, I am highly skilled at moving lightstands!
I'm not sure I know what a lightstand is and in that case it's probably not going to be of any help to me...
THHHHHHHHHHHUNK! That was the sound of a spear hitting me between the shoulder blades.
Yeah, and the image of that spear-chucking is illuminated by available light, or possibly a big friggin' flash. Can't wait to see the digitized effect.
The lightstand, more precisely lampstand, was the iron stand in the temple that held the light of G_d's presence. When the temple was cleansed and there was only enough oil for a few days, G_d made the lights burn for eight days.Hence, Hannukkah.

Lar, being a guy that moved light stands must be a Phillistine or, at least, a Babylonian interloper. Maybe a Maccabean janitor sweeping the floor?
It's Chanukah.

actually Hannukkah is closer to what it should be.

Is this where the Yiddish starts? Oy!Gevalt! I'm outa shape.
Yiddish was my parents' secret language. and us kids always straggled to understand what was said. so basically I'm in good shape but my Yiddish is not that great. :)
Probably better than mine. Mine is just stray phrases and words. I'd be lost in conversation.
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