LAST #14

On the night before my in-laws were married, the weekend after the original Woodstock, in a small town in northernmost Vermont, my father-in-law, John, and his soon to be father-in-law, Gramp, sat down to a bottle of scotch. Hours later, sheets to the wind, they parted company and hit the hay. Early next morning, John awoke to a lilting whistle. Gramp, who had put down two drinks for every one of John's, was having a tuneful shave. John stopped by the shaving basin on his way to breakfast. Wryly and with a wink, he asked how the old man felt that morning. And Gramp replied, "I'd have to be bigger to feel better." So would we. Welcome to #14.

Editor D


This has been a year of wonderful things, though, quite honestly, there's a great mess on the American home front with war, terror, broken down politics, kitsch come to life. Internal vs. external. This is part of living, the awed part, the part full fury and idiotic yelp, racing waters against the bank, erosion and creation.

I'm calling this issue the "last issue #14." Not the final LPZ, but the last #14. A reminder of how we're here in a moment. Happiness, fear, eagerness, release, doubt, the constant humilty of boarding a crowded subway train. To paraphrase Dean Young, we are all the burning towers life runs into and eventually out of, so catch life in the stairwell and set it on fire.

ps- Edward Said, R.I.P.

Editor J