Jock Bitch
Regarding Michael Roberts's "Jocks of All Tirades" in the July 13 issue:
Westword's gentle treatment of Lewis and Floorwax is pathetic.
Come on, theirs is the most misogynistic "show" anytime, anywhere, anyplace. Have you noticed that they play the version of Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Gimme Three Steps" that features a reference to a woman as "this cunt"?

Let's be accurate: The KRFX morning show is a redneck act--simple tobacco-spitting ignorance and backwardness attempting to pass itself off as hip and with-it.

I want to see the follow-up story, ten years from now, when the two no-talent hicks are holding down the all-night shift at some Laramie, Wyoming, convenience store.

You would think Patricia Calhoun could get more aggressive reporting than the oh-so-balanced Lewis and Floorwax publicity handouts she's been printing.

B. Matthews

In regard to the two "women" from Aurora suing Lewis and Floorwax and KRFX, I say listen to KOSI from now on. They knew darn well what they were getting into.

Did they think the "masters" would act differently? They play with people. But that is all...play. These "girls" obviously like what the "masters" do on air, but it offended them in person.

The "masters" are the furthest thing from rude in real life. I have seen Floorwax at different businesses around town, and he couldn't be nicer. From what I remember in L.A., Rick Lewis wasn't rude, either.

"Ladies," if these two are so bad, tune into "Huck & Chuck" and leave the "masters" alone.

Brett Hasetto

I wrote before, after I heard Lewis and Floorwax whining because they weren't picked for Best of Denver. That same morning they made their usual juvenile cracks about women, this time about Westword's editor, Patricia Calhoun, and whether she was the "cow" who had posed for the cover of the Best of Denver issue. I couldn't believe that in the same issue my letter was printed there was a story about how these guys had also trashed a woman who won a contest and a friend of hers. I want to congratulate those two women for having the guts to sue Lewis and Floorwax. I hope they win big. Lewis and Floorwax, you are the Worst of Denver. And I want to congratulate Patricia Calhoun for printing such a fair story about the lawsuit. Personally, I think she should beat the shit out of them.

Susan T.

Book 'em
Robin Chotzinoff's July 20 story about Weldon Kees, "Kees to the Kingdom," was amusing, and the part about guys in shorts, black socks and sandals hit a certain nail on its head. But there was short shrift done to DPL by its part as straight man in this little story.

The Denver Public Library is a vibrant, vast store of knowledge, ideas and information that far exceeds anyone's chance of exhausting. It is a far cry, too, from the sleepy catacombs you describe. And when the doors of the new building open, you will gape in astonishment at what is there for you to use. DPL is a rich wellspring of material for the information highway and will be a major node.

And another thing. It's Phil Panum--with a P, not a T. Thank you and keep up the good work. Kenny Be is wonderful.

Randel E. Metz

Kudos for Robin Chotzinoff, whose thorough research and gutsy writing enliven your pages often--though it can't be too often for me. Her piece on Weldon Kees was absolutely first-rate, and that's only one of so many I've appreciated. Give her whatever she wants to keep her happy, but hang on to her!

Jane Carpenter

Down and Out in the Valley
Regarding Richard Fleming's "Drawing the Line" in the July 20 issue:
Hispanos shut out of power should come as no surprise for those of us who were born and reared in the San Luis Valley. The valley has always had a heavy taint of racism, rampant when I was growing up. Alamosa, Monte Vista, Center and Del Norte were as oppressive toward Hispanos as Selma was toward blacks. In the Forties and Fifties, one could see signs that read "No Mexicans or Dogs Allowed" in barbershops and restaurants. Hispanos lived in designated parts of these towns. The schools did little to meet the educational need of Hispanos. Teachers were openly disdainful and prejudiced toward Hispano children. The dropout rate was at close to 50 percent, and this has not changed much. Seldom would one see Hispanos working in banks, stores or as teachers in the schools. Hispanos were the beasts of burden in the fields and in the potato cellars. They still are.

Those who left the valley the past four decades have been able to achieve prosperity; many sent their children to college to become teachers, doctors and lawyers. But most of their offspring never came back to the valley. The second-class citizenship of Hispanos then and today is an ugly legacy that is still very evident. To improve their lot, Hispanos have to get smart and vote for candidates who will represent their interests. They also need to become the primary advocates for their children in the schools. Education is the key that will open and develop leaders.

It will be a long time before a Hispano is elected state representative. What Hispanos suffer from is comfort in their second-class citizenship, not because they desire or cherish this status, but because the collective will has been conditioned to accept meekly and stoically the intolerable condition of second-class citizenship.

John F. Garcia

Chewing Gump
To protest Bill Gallo's review of Forrest Gump ("Lovable Sap," July 13) in 200 words or less is a fool's mission, but the film is too rich and too vigorous for reduction to his need to be "quite sure about what Zemeckis and company are after." (Did anyone else in the world expect to be persuaded that Forrest is "the man-child who saves the world"?)

Surely the clips we've seen on TV point toward an "it"--from the scene "with" JFK to "I know what love is..." But the news is in how they went after "it"--how screenwriter Eric Roth and the rest (Zemeckis made Who Framed Roger Rabbit?; Hanks learned from Big; Sinise was a founding member of Chicago's Steppenwolf Company twenty years ago...) used mob scenes, a hurricane, a Vietnam firefight, football games, episodes of violence a deux and some that bring Frank Capra to mind as context and development for such fragments.

The "journey" (Gallo's metaphor) ranges through cultural history from pre-Athenian theater to table tennis with Mao's Chinese to a country child's first trip in a school bus--and it works, the way some descriptive music does (e.g., Die Moldau, though its soundtrack reprises the Sixties and Seventies).

Where to "place" it?
Not where Camus might be chatting with Ortega y Gasset, but somewhere near early Orson Welles and early Mel Brooks, a wink away from Northern Exposure.

How to "rate" it?
Now that "adult" has taken on special meaning, try "GU" for "Grown Up." And hope that it won't long continue in a class by itself.

For a proper "30," the fool's protest of your Forrest Gump review needs two more words: It satisfies.

E. Moran

Gump: A beautiful, sad and not inconsequential movie about a good but rigid, simple but not stupid man in a complex, often cruel or decadent world (negatively including the Vietnam War's dirtiest laundry washed in public once again).

A blend of curious incidence and profound happenstance. A both rambling and circular, witty, epic story brilliantly written, directed and acted. A-.

Gene Edwards

I found Kyle Wagner's July 13 "Bland on the Run" bad-mouthing of Tafolino's and their musicians both narrow-minded and distasteful. As a regular reader of Westword, I was appalled that someone so obviously annoyed by the culture and music of Mexico would be considered a credible critic of Mexican food. I frequent Tafolino's, and their excellent cuisine and entertainment by the Trio Soles de Mexico always has the restaurant overflowing with patrons who know the meaning of the word sabor.

I feel Kyle Wagner has displayed an inability to appreciate fine music and food in this column, and I have only one more thing to say to her: Next time you plan a romantic evening, why don't you order takeout? Then you can lock yourself in the closet and listen to the dull sound of your 32-ounce can of refried beans rolling back and forth to your tune.

Marilyn Heil


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