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Letter to Miss Maley’s Seventh Grade Class

by Hans Bluedorn

Our readers asked us (Hans and Nathaniel) what we are up to these days. Are we writing another logic book? Are we living it up on Malibu beach? No! And, maybe. Recently Miss Maley’s logic class in Grove City, PA sent us a package of letters. This was very touching. Here is Hans’ response:

Dear Miss Maley’s Seventh Grade Class,

We got all of your letters and very much enjoyed reading them.

So, you guys want us to come talk to your class? Let me give you an idea of where I live in relation to Grove City, Pennsylvania.

For about 26 years I lived here:

Then I got married and moved here:

(By the way, I’m drawing these pictures from memory, so pardon if they aren’t completely geographically correct.)

Then I got bored of only seeing cornfields, and so I moved. So this is the situation, now:

As you can see. There is a lot between me and you.

I live in a small town in southern California called Elizabeth Lake.

This town is so small it doesn’t have anything but houses. It doesn’t have a grocery store, or a gas station, or a movie theater, or a jail, or a guitar shop, or an ant farm or anything.

It is near this town though:

Elizabeth Lake has a pile of hills, a mountain, and a lake. The town was actually named after a girl, named Elizabeth, who tripped and fell into the lake. Then everyone laughed at her. They must have laughed really hard since they named a lake AND a town after her.

This is what Elizabeth Lake looks like:


The reason why I’m telling you all this is to show you the first reason why I can’t come to your class. It’s three thousand miles away. A long ways to walk. A few years ago, a group of people called the "Donner Party" tried to make it, and most of them died or had a very unpleasant time.


The other reason I can’t come to talk to your class is that I am a rather boring speaker. Whenever I get in front of a crowd I can’t think of anything useful to say. So I just stand there and stare. I doubt you would like me to come all that way to Pennsylvania and just stand in front of your class and glare at you. That would be awkward.

This is what it would look like:


I know that picture makes you look like you are in kindergarten, but I’ve never actually seen you guys so I’m just drawing what I imagine kids look like.

So, you may ask, what am I doing in Elizabeth Lake, California?

I’m drinking coffee . . .


and rock climbing . . .


and canyoneering . . .


and drinking more coffee . . .


and mountain biking . . .


and being bit by rattlesnakes . . .


and shot at by gangsters . . .


. . . oh, and I’m writing a story.

My story is about two kids who crash land on an alien planet by accident and then get into a big argument about it. It’s kind of an autobiography.

So, what is my brother Nathaniel up to? He is also writing a story, but his story is different than mine. His story is about the synthesis of sympathy culture and the future of fiction based communication in civilizations. Oh, and he wanted me to use the word "meta-narrative" somewhere.

This is Nathaniel writing his story on the beach. I don’t think it will sell very well.


This is my wife, Desi. She is the most awesome girl.


This is her breaking cement bricks in half using only her mind.


She can do other cool things, too. Like make cookies.

So. I think I’ve mostly run out of things to talk about, and I’m tired of drawing all these little pictures.

Maybe If you guys had actually asked me some QUESTIONS, instead of just giving me reasons why I should come see you, I would have more to say. grin

Actually. Seriously. Thanks for all the letters. They were a big encouragement to us. If we’re out east anytime this year I’ll drop by and check you guys out.

Sincerely,

Hans Bluedorn


Copyright August 23, 2012, all rights reserved. 5159 views


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