By Joel Warner
By Michael Roberts
By Alan Prendergast
By Michael Roberts
By Michael Roberts
By Amber Taufen
By Patricia Calhoun
By William Breathes
Puppetry of the Penis? No offense, but bull. This show played in Seattle for a month and a half. It is nothing more than a peep show for groups of women. The crowds were 98 percent women every night. Call it what it is: sexual. It is a nude display for women; do not pretend that it is some great comedy.
The naked truth:The advertisement for Puppetry of the Penis that appeared in Westword is just another example of society's endorsement of male degradation. The advertisement includes recommendations from such well-known magazines and newspapers as Vanity Fair, Newsday, the New York Timesand the Toronto Star. I am absolutely certain that a similar performance by two women that involved the explicit contortion of their genitals to satisfy the prurient interests of their audience would never receive an endorsement from Vanity Fair, Newsday, the New York Times, the Toronto Star or any other respected information source.
Nice anti-military article by David Holthouse! What a surprise to learn that Buckley Air Force Base is in Colorado Springs!
via the Internet
Aurora, we have a problem:I have never written to a newspaper when I run across an error, but this time I could not resist. David Holthouse wrote about the cost of a fighter-jet flyover at the Broncos-Raiders football game on September 22. He reported the cost of the performance at $20,000 and stated that the jets came from the 120th Fighter Squadron at Buckley Air Force Base -- in Colorado Springs.
I have lived in the Denver area since 1977, and Buckley Air Force Base, as well as the Buckley Air National Guard Base before it, has always been in Aurora, not Colorado Springs. This error leads me to believe that Mr. Holthouse could also have been in error when he calculated the $20,000 cost of the display. He talked about cost per hour and hours of flying time. Did he actually figure flying time from Colorado Springs?
Hopefully, not all of Westword's writers are as loose with the facts or just plain too lazy to check the accuracy of the facts.
Editor's note:The $20,000 figure was correct, but the Buckley location was wrong, wrong, wrong. Our apologies.
State of the union:I just wanted to say thank you for Stuart Steers's superb article "Talking Dirty," in the September 11 issue. I cut it out and sent it to my carpenter father, as he has always stressed the importance of labor unions. I just finished reading the story for the third time. I look forward to reading more from Stuart.
Dazzling behavior: Regarding Laura Bond's "Jazzercise," in the September 4 issue:
I've never met Donald Rossa or been to Dazzle. However, when I read in Bond's excellent article that he treats his guests with mental illnesses "like VIPs when they show up each month" at his restaurant, my jaw dropped. I keep re-reading that line. I hope there is a special place in heaven for this man...and for Scott Utash, also.
I don't know where to start. My band Wanker graced the cover of Westword during the winter of 1987. Our very first gig as a band was opening for the Blue Jets at Cricket on the Hill. Enter Bob Rupp, who was their drummer. Over the past sixteen years, Bob has been a brother, consultant and musical soulmate to me. Bob took over as our drummer during the '90s, and we made two swings to the West Coast. Trust me, you learn about the "real person" traveling four guys to a van with your equipment across the Rockies!
The Denver music scene was kept alive with Bob's energy and initiative. Many benefit concerts for Children's Hospital, sending music to our troops during Desert Storm, etc., have flown under the radar of the general population. Our city will miss the goodwill and musical friendship of Bob.
Maine has inherited a good man! I miss him already!
House party:Great story on Bob Rupp, and he deserves every bit of good sentiment thrown at him. I'm the guy who asked Bob in 1982 if he needed a place to stay on Dahlia, so he moved in and we lived together for two and a half years during his "formative" period. Okay, I'm writing to relate just one story -- the first night Bob moved in with me...
It's a Thursday night, and I have to be at work at 8:30 a.m. for a staff meeting. Bob's just getting started refurbishing drums on our back patio. He leaves for Mr. Lucky's at 8 p.m., saying he'll be home early. At 1 a.m. (!), I hear a knock on my bedroom door, and he peeks in, saying, "I invited a few people over; we'll be quiet." Next thing I hear is fifteen cars pulling up, girls giggling, guys slurring, and the music starts creeping up. Thirty minutes later Bob, says, "Hey, man, wake up and join us." Next thing I know, he opens the door, pushes a young, very attractive brunette in my bedroom, says, "Her name is Nancy," and shuts the door. Okay, now I'm up.