I have no idea about the Mr. McGrew reference, but again this is a letter mostly containing Charlotte’s travel plans that seemed to constantly include Minneapolis. She always went on about the griffin statue she named Horatio, always feeling it would benefit my sculpture career one way or another (it never did). She unravels on the topic of Punk Gothic, which was a sculpture I created with a Mohawk hair cut. Evidently I must have once more passed comment on Grace’s fuzzy photography, this time with a reference to Anne Sullivan of Helen Keller fame, and the actress who played the role in play & film. I do remember the photograph Grace took of Charlotte cradling the griffin in her arms while smiling… and sadly that photograph is long lost. She writes merrily of an epitaph and headstone, which now has some touching poignancy that can only make one smile.
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Saturday night in the Yukon
Dear Mr. McGrew,
I do not know where you got your information about Erkkinen but you have obviously been misled by some of those Minneapolis Swedes. Erkkinen means “send us a check every month or we repossess the car.”
I would hope to Pete people have been buying THE COVIVIAL CODFISH for this if for no other reason. Please urge Jeff on to greater efforts in his new location… and send me his new address so I can communicate with him on ye very subject of when he would like me to come and visit. I shall be in Chicago the weekend of October 26-8 and could possibly whiz over there then, but there doesn’t seem to be a vast deal of point to it when THE CURSEOF THE GIANT HOGWEED is coming out in February with a genuine Minnesota-born griffin in it. It is probably the height of madness to think of coming to the FROZEN NORTH then, but think what a lovely publicity stunt it would make for thou and I, talon in talon, to be interviewed by vast numbers of Swedish reporters, not to mention the Unknown Norwegian Bachelor Reporter. The reason I am stressing Jeff in this matter instead of merely shrieking, |
“Yes, yes, I will come and eat Swedish pastry with you, Dawn, Deb, and anybody else who wants to split a strudel with me is, quite simply, that if I pay formal call on Uncle Edgar’s, pen in hand, I can take it off as a business expense. Also, I have a morbid desire to find out whether Minn, in win. Is really as awful as everybody claims it is. If it I, of course, I shall insist the visit was ALL YOUR FAULT and demand free cough drops.
In point of fact, I have to be in New York on Valentine’s Day… at Murder Ink, where they celebrate the St. V’s Day Massacre… so I could not come until sometime around the end of the month, when I am also thinking of going to Houston and some other places in the southwest… so I could either defrost or cool off depending on whether I do you to or fro, at it were.
I am also going to Colorado in October, but it will be a separate trip. I do not know what happened to the old notion that writers were supposed to stay home and write. Nowadays, it appears, one has to be a sort of one person barnstorming act in order to keep ahead of Erkkinen et al.
Are you thoroughly confused yet about all this? If not, I’ll try harder next time. Getting back to more important subjects, no doubt the gothic punk was a natural transition from the Grateful Dead, but I’m sorry to hear you no longer attend the Minnesota Folk Festival [Renaissance Festival] dressed in your brown corduroy cloak and hood billowing in the wind, as you doubtless lent a certain panache which it has never had before or since. FYI, the Seneca haircut, erroneously referred to as Mohawk, was popular when I was in High school… though not with me personally. I might have been obnoxious, but never punk. Perhaps you might care to prepare me a nice headstone with that epitaph and an Erkkinen rampant on top. It would of course be easier to collect before headstone is needed than after.
Here is a picture of my teeth, with a tree growing out of my head. At least it proves Horatio is in good hands. FY further I, Grace is very tall and blonde with turquoise… aquamarine, actually… colored eyes. She does not look at all like Anne Bancroft in or out of Helen Keller. Her maiden name is Gelpke… as you doubtless know, Gelke is a sept of Clan Guttke so you are probably forty-seventh cousins once removed or possibly twice. Has it occurred to you that al those punks with Mohawk haircuts are going to wear wooly caps all winter in Minn. or freeze their follicles off? Ask Jeff what he wants for his wall… if it is my pelt to nail Viking-fashion tell him he can’t have it. If it is an enlargement of one of my Avon jackets, I might be able to have one made for him… Wrack & Rune comes to mind. If it is a picture of me, you can lend him the one with the teeth and get a plug for yourself as griffin-maker at the same time… as a matter of fact, I have a lovely idea for a photo to send him. That strange little blob in the left-hand corner is a weed, by the way…. Took me a while to figure it out. And I am … yours truly…
The Lady That’s Known As Lou
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