November 1, 1997

Dear Busters,

Thank You for inviting me once again to Tionesta. Such an invitation fondly reminds me of my very first trip to Tionesta. Several years back, while I was living in beautiful New Jersey, my secretary, oops, my administrative assistant (whom I'll call "Hank") invited me to join him at a bachelor party. He informed me that the party was to be held at a posh resort in Pennsylvania's Allegheny National Forest. A US-version of some Canadian Country Club. He promised that we'd be joined by some really nice, classy fellows from Pittsburgh. His lifelong friends.

Needless to say, I was excited. This sounded like fun. "Hank" told me that it was a very informal affair; so I put on my rattiest Polo Sweater, my beat-up pair of penny loafers, and "Hank" and I hit the road to Pennsylvania!

I was a bit appalled upon my arrival. This looked like no country club I'd ever seen. No valet parking? Ouch. After we self-parked, I first noticed a bitter, angry little man screaming racial slurs at the top of his lungs! Another guy named Sweeper (what kind of a name is that?) was shooting a huge firearm of some sort. A homely Italian fellow had his motorcycle stuck in a big puddle of mud. All of this, at a country club! Everyone was wearing flannel. A lot of hats. There were sinful tobacco products strewn all over the trunk of someone's car for all to indulge in. Chaw, Snuff, Cigars, Cigarettes.....I don't smoke! What is with these guys?

The highlight of the night was a campfire, outside behind the "resort". These fellows sat around the fire, kept drinking, smoking, and listening to "Babylon Sisters", over and over and over. They insulted each other profusely, and then they'd all laugh. They'd laugh a lot. Quite frankly, I couldn't seem to understand their humor. Late in the evening, I swear I saw a local TV sportscaster buck-naked with the shrimp a-hangin', but I may have been hallucinating. I got tired of Steely Dan. I cheerfully suggested Guns N' Roses. They replied: "no Bums n' Hoses here!", and then swore at me.

As the night wound down, we all slept in a series of bunkbeds in the back room of the "resort". My God, there must have been 16 people sleeping in the same room! They all snored, and farted like mules.

The morning couldn't come fast enough. I was eager to leave. "Hank" informed me that he was unable to drive me back to New Jersey. He had arranged alternative transportation with his chunky, bald friend, Doog Nevets. I didn't complain. I just wanted to get home. The trip was long. Doog, who smelled horribly of tequila and tobacco, never uttered a word the entire journey.

So, Busters, thanks for the invitation to return to Tionesta. But I just don't know if I fit in. Besides, I'm a busy executive now, I work long hours, I work weekends. I'm encouraging "Hank" to become a workaholic, like me. As a matter of fact, "Hank" is here with my morning donut and a Cafe Latte'. I've got to go......have a great trip to Tionesta....without me!

Love and Kisses,

Chrisssssssssssssssssssssss

P.S. Although I didn't smoke back then, I do smoke cigars now. Aren't they fantastic?

P.P.S. I really miss Teem Fiber