PORTLAND MERCURY—You made my week. Well, first you fucked up my week, when Ann Romano's column mentioned the story of Thomas Beatie as gossip, referred to him as "she" several times, and then called him "Mr. Potato Head" in reference to choices he had made about his body [One Day at a Time, April 10]. But now look; you've apologized [Letters and One Day at a Time, April 17]. Not one of those pathetic I'm-sorry-you-feel-like-I-offended-you apologies, a real sincere one, by the columnist and the editor. I'm amazed. Thank you.

Derrick J. Travers


DEAR ANN [ROMANO]—I have to say that I actually appreciated your previous article where you dared to challenge what Thomas Beatie has done [One Day at a Time, April 10]. Thomas identifies more with the masculine. Fair enough. And you are right; a person

is more than the sum of their parts. But Thomas has female chromosomes, a vagina, and a functioning womb. In what possible sense is Thomas a man? Your column might not have been the most sensitive, but I thought your satire asks people to think about this absurdity. Thomas believes he is a man—vagina and all. My friend's aunt thinks she is the Queen of England. Both of these statements are absurd on any rational level. Tolerance means that when in Thomas' presence I will respect her by calling her him. Tolerance means I will address my friend's aunt as Her Majesty in her presence. This doesn't mean I've accepted either for what they claim to be.



DEAR MERCURY—I think I hit bottom when I peed on Jaxon [the mascot of the Portland LumberJax lacrosse team]. I would like to publicly make amends. Mascot abuse is all too real, and the victims rarely, if ever, come forward. Mr. Tonry's Pulitzer Prize-worthy article deals with this topic with candor and grace ["Beneath the Mask," Feature, April 10].

David Leach


DEAR MERCURY—I've never written you, but after reading the article on mascots I felt compelled to share my own story ["Beneath the Mask," Feature, April 10]. I used to work for the Portland Spirit as a bartender, and foolishly volunteered to be a mascot named "Crazy Quilt" for their Cinnamon Bear Christmas kids' cruise. Well, the reality of the job was more of a nightmare than anything. I tolerated the job by my good spirit, for a time by simply not giving a shit, but eventually it totally came crashing down on me. The lesson in all this: Never volunteer, especially to be an idiot in a dragon suit.

Puff "The Pissed-Off" Ex-Dragon


TO THE EDITOR—I had a little smirk on my face reading Matt Davis' story about the restaurant customer who initiated violation proceedings against a Portland officer for illegally parking as he picked up his takeout meal at a Portland restaurant ["Turning the Tables," News, April 17]. Then I remembered how police often have to leave in a hurry even while on lunch, if they happen to be closest to an emergency call. We shouldn't be so quick to judge whether the cop was just trying to lord it over his fellow citizens or whether he was only trying to be ready to help a crime victim.

David Findlay

JA :)

DEAR MATT DAVIS—I'm from Germany and it's common for cops here to park anywhere to get some food or something else :) ["Turning the Tables," News, April 17]. I mean, no one is really wondering, because they need food as well, plus they simply have the rights to do so (I guess). Even if they don't have that right, you can't even say anything against it because they are superior and they probably f*ck you in any other way if you annoy them :).

Andreas Schipplock


DEAR MERCURY—I would like to thank you for the health benefits extended to me by reading your newspaper. Ever since I started reading the Mercury, I have been eating fish and going out to movies almost every night. My obsessive desire to hole up, eat junk food, and watch rented DVDs has been lifted. Keep up the good work!

Fish Monger

CONGRATULATIONS TO FISH MONGER for finding the healthful light in adopting the lifestyle of a pescetarian cinephile. Anything we can do to keep those omegas coursing through your blood—for instance by giving you the letter of the week, and two tickets to the Laurelhurst Theater and lunch at No Fish! Go Fish!, where... HEY! Wait a minute...