Tag Archives: mailbag

Mailbag redux.

Well, it’s been a while since we’ve done this, but I think it’s about time we open up the old mail bag and respond to some of the cards, letters, emails, messages in bottles, skywriting, notes tied to bricks thrown through windows, etc. we’ve received over the past, what, ten years?

Full disclosure: Marvin (my personal robot assistant) was tasked some years back with screening our fan mail. I’m not sure he fully understood the parameters of that assignment. Our intention was for him to use the kind of screen that would allow some of the messages to pass through. I guess we should have been more explicit. He appears to have tossed most of them out. Robots!

The thing is dusty as hell, but (cough!) here goes . First, here’s a little message from someone with the code name “Ask” in the United Kingdom:

Aw, this was a really nice post. Spending some time and actual effort to make a superb article… but what can I say… I hesitate a lot and don’t seem to get anything done.

– Ask.

Hey, thanks for your message, “Ask”. I’m not an expert on personal efficiency, but you should get that hesitation thing looked at. You might need a new set of spark plug wires. Luckily, you have the National Health Service over in England, so that shouldn’t be too difficult to accomplish.

Here’s another one, from this side of the pond:

Hey Big Green,

When the hell are you going to get up off your sorry asses and perform somewhere? It’s been years since you had a decent gig. Why are you wasting your time, posting shit on the internet and making up fan letters? It’s just disgraceful.

– Francis McDonald, Keokuk, IA

Well, Francis, I’m glad you asked this question. I’ve been trying to think of a way to raise this issue with my bandmates, and you have helpfully teed it up for me. I’ll tell you, if you hadn’t asked about this, I might have had to invent a fan letter like yours out of thin air. Thanks for saving me the trouble. I hate work!

Okay, Marvin. You can open it up now.

I think top two reasons we never play live is that we are (a) lazy and (b) old, in that order. That said, I personally do play with other groups on occasion. After the last time I performed, late last year, I spent about two months in physical therapy. As soon as I can save up the credit for more PT visits, I’ll take another gig.

For those of you who missed Big Green’s handful of live performances back in the day, you can hear some recordings of us playing live on either our Soundcloud channel or our YouTube channel. If you hear this and want more, let us know.

Mail bag returns.

Mail's in!Well, it’s been a while. Time to open the Big Green mail bag again, at long last. It’s easy to forget this stuff with all that’s been on our plate the last couple of years. You know, production, minor building repairs, breathing (lots of breathing), and the like. But no matter – we’ll just take a moment away from all of that, wave away the moths, and pull the first missive from its tattered envelope.

Here’s one from Castleton-on-Hudson, NY:

Dear Big Green … Are you the same ne’er-do-wells that used to live in that broken down house on Green Avenue? You know … the one that looks like it tumbled halfway down the gorge and landed on its roof? Because it that WAS you guys, you friggin owe me money.

— Baldric McPlumber

Hey, Baldric … thanks for writing in! Yes, that was us, back in an earlier incarnation (or since we’re talking about rural New York, maybe it should be “inTARnation”). We lived in that broken down house in 1984-5, and next door to it in 1981, so if you have any outstanding bills, just hand them to the people currently occupying those structures. Cheers!

Here’s a note from someone in Madagascar:

Dear Big Green … Your last episode of Ned Trek featured a Mormon dentist by the name of Jillian Mustard. Do you know if she’s accepting any new patients? I’ve got a loose filling in one of my molars, lower left.

— Kranis Frackus

Hiya, Kranis … hope all is well in Madagascar! Nope, I don’t think Jillian is accepting any new patients. She is what we call a “fictional” character, cooked up in the sick, sick mind of my illustrious brother. Any resemblance to actual human beings, living or dead, is completely coincidental. (Unless the resemblance is way too close … in which case, you know who you are.)

One more … this one from San Antonio:

Howdy, partners! I see you posted a whole mess of songs about Rick Perry on your YouTube Channel. It’s almost as if you KNEW Rick was going to run for president again. What manner of beast are you that you can see things that haven’t happened yet?

— T-Bone Pickens

Well now, T-Bone. That there is what we New Yorkers call a “coincidence”. You see, not everything in this highly complex world is connected to every other thing. It’s just a happy accident that I got my lazy ass in gear and posted those songs just weeks before Rick made his fateful decision to throw his ten-gallon hat into the ring. Those songs offer a great backgrounder on the candidate. Don’t underestimate him!

There’s more, but then … you have a life.

Off again.

Okay, so this is how the countdown went: Ten… nine… eight… seven…  Shall I go on? Are you in suspense yet? Well, okay, ’cause we’re already down to three… two…

Hold it right there. Neptune can wait. I’ve got some mail to answer. Here’s the first item:

Dear Big Green,

Couldn’t help but notice that your diet appears to have been restricted to cheese-based cracker snacks. Why is that? Are you under advisement from your physician?

Best,

Jaycorn McHammerstein.

Thanks for writing, Jaycorn. Yes, I can see where you might have gotten that misimpression about our foodstuffs. Same place other people acquire misimpressions about us – from this blog. The simple fact is, none of the snack foods I mentioned as being part of Big Green’s regular menu contain a significant amount of cheese. And doctors? We don’t need no stinking doctors! Unless they are doctors of mad science.

Here’s another one. The envelope seems a bit distressed, frankly.

Hey Big Green…

I fell down the back steps of the Cheney Hammer Mill and have been stuck in your basement for about a week and a half, living on coal dust and weeds ripped from between the security bars of the basement windows. Call the police! GET ME THE HELL OUT OF HERE!

Sincerely,

Mayor Clem Johnson

One more – this one appears to be from slightly farther away.

Snert….

Kalwoiuu lkjlk ffjrjt oo  issi  kak he ka wppio ldk na

eiur youa wwkke !!!!

jeooiau,

Snert.

Thanks for writing, Snert. I respect the fact that you’ve gone to the great expense of sending this letter from the Small Magellanic Cloud. Sadly, we have no reliable translator on staff, though Marvin (my personal robot assistant) does dabble a bit. Still, once we get underway with our interstellar tour, we will hand this off to one of our fans and find out just what the hell you’re talking about.

That does it. Okay, where were we? Ah yes…. Three… two… one…