QUIT THE DAY JOB, WAYNE
As a devoted co-worker of [playwright] Wayne Rawley's (actually, he's my boss . . . although I assure you this is not being written under duress), I am pleased to see Seattle Weekly focusing on the broad cross section of cultural up-and-comers who are feeling their way to superstardom in venues around Seattle ["No Joke," Feb. 21].
Too often, I think aspiring artists have their creativity squelched by associating success in their art with M.C. Hammer- style wealth and fame and instant worldwide celebrity. It gives us all hope to hear stories about artists who are in the middle ground . . . treading the fine line between their art as an extracurricular activity and the magical day they can finally take their day jobs and shove them. I know as an aspiring writer myself, hearing stories like Wayne's, stories about talented regular Joes who took their Saturday-night ramblings and made something out of them, gives me the mettle to keep at my craft and make something of it, if only on a small scale. I hope that other creative brains are heartened by the fact that talent like Wayne's IS recognized in this world and that it's worth trying to become what you always wanted to be when you grew up.
May more of the garage photographers, garage actors, and garage writers like Wayne Rawley follow the path of Seattle's garage bands and find their acclaim first in the pages of Seattle Weekly.
And may Wayne find it is his heart to quit his day job. God knows I could use the promotion.
I am a physician with Pacific Medical Group and take great offense to your article [News Clips, "Bad Medicine"] in the Feb. 21 issue—not so much the content, but the title. The physicians in this group are excellent. We provide state-of-the-art care [that] is second to none. In NO circumstance is "Bad Medicine" ever practiced at PacMed. Our patients receive the highest standard of care possible. I suggest you give more thought to the implications of your titles in the future.
David J. Weidig, M.D.
THE LEGEND AIN'T FACT
I read Andrew Bonazelli's article about Dismemberment Plan ["Who Wants to Be Emo?" Feb. 21] and discovered a factual error.
The article says, "The legend: Jeff Ament heard the Plan at Easy Street Records, asked what the fuck this was, and voil୭instant mass exposure."
Well, the legend is dead wrong. That shit went down right here at Sonic Boom Records in Fremont. Those clowns at Easy Street hadn't even heard of Dismemberment Plan until [one of them] stopped by to check out the competition and heard it in our store.
Co-Owner, Sonic Boom Records
GOD SAYS, "EAT HEMP"
The Drug Enforcement Administration gave the hemp food industry a 40-day extension [on its nationwide ban on hemp foods. See News Clips, "Hemp Graced," Feb. 14]. Good!
Thank God for hemp and cannabis. Accept cannabis ( also known as kaneh bosm before the King James version) for what it is as described on the very first page of the Bible (Genesis 1:11-12 and 29-30). Christ God gave us cannabis and put cannabinoid (THC) receptor sites in our brains since the beginning. Godly people should not prohibit that connection.
I was amused by Steve Wiecking's tribute to straight men who accompany their wives/girlfriends to musical theater [Small World, "What They Did for Love," Feb. 14]. Of course, conventional wisdom tells us that the core audience for musical theater consists of women and gay men. Like all stereotypes, there may be a grain of truth to this. However, it is this musical theater producer's experience that there are many musicals that have special appeal to all-American heterosexual men. In fact, I always keep the "husband-appeal factor" in mind when selecting [the 5th Avenue Theatre's] season of musicals. It can't all be Funny Girl and Mame.
I have found that "beige cotton Docker" -wearing men, as Mr. Wiecking calls them, generally favor musicals featuring red-blooded guys like themselves. This includes gamblers (Guys and Dolls), sailors (South Pacific), gangsters (Kiss Me Kate), ballplayers (Damn Yankees), and greasers (Grease). Also popular are "gorgeous girls and gags," so shows like Crazy For You and The Will Rogers Follies are always a hit.
Contrary to Mr. Wiecking's opinion, Fiddler on the Roof has huge "husband appeal." It's that "If I Were a Rich Man" song that closes the deal. And Mr. Wiecking may find it alarming, but it has generally been husbands who stop me to comment on how much they enjoyed our recent premier, The Prince and The Pauper. But then again, what straight man doesn't like a good "buddy story" packed with sword fighting and father-son themes?
Mr. Wiecking's premise is specious at best. Seattle has one of the most vibrant and vital theater scenes in the nation, eclipsed only by New York and Chicago. For Seattle to maintain this standing, husbands must enjoy going to [musicals] at least a little bit. I conclude with a question for Mr. Wiecking to ponder: Is it love for the women or love for the art form that brings these husbands and boyfriends into the musical theater? They may not readily admit it, but perhaps it is a little bit of both.
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