Issue #80, June 20th, 1997

Keep Me Lifted
by Randy Byers

Behind every Past President of ffwa stand dozens and dozens of heroic people. On the way home from the May Vanguard, it hit me that I'd been neglectful of everyone who has played a part in my rise to power and prestige. So, I herewith give my thanks to a typical few.

Above all, thanks to Mrs. Azari for the clear premonition of a future past presidency when she wrote of a shit-scared seventh-grader, "Someday others will look to you for advice & leadership." As for other teachers, thanks to Alan Ball for Camus and for the Gitanes and whiskey on the back porch, to Linda Robertson for the Dorothy Parker act and the first paid publication, and to Jim Manuel for the retort: "I submit to you, Mr. Byers, that a nuclear weapon is not just a big rifle."

Thanks to carl juarez for knocking on the door and for many leaves turned and burned since. Thanks to paul lemman for the giggles that got me through the first year in Seattle. Thanks to Ron Thomas for the snow and for tales of acid vengeance, and to Barbara Edie for being a better Virgo than I was at the time. Thanks to Jerry Kaufman and Suzle Tomkins for the Red & Black party, where many fates were set.

Thanks to Tami Vining for the dress shirt, the magic pouch, the silver chain, and the fire. Thanks to Jane Hawkins for encouraging me to take a romantic flight and for applying salve when it crashed. Thanks to Kate Schaefer for posts to rass-eff that make me LOL. Thanks to Constance Maytum for the reminders that I was cuter when I was nineteen, and to Eileen Gunn for sensible advice and creative accoutrements. Thanks to Vonda McIntyre for blushing.

Thanks to Karrie Dunning for numerous dances and ongoing lessons in health and humanity. Thanks to Jessica Amanda Salmonson for at least one obscure and maddening book. Thanks to John Berry for reaching heights of design, and to Katherine Howes for the winged cat and wicked words. Thanks to Amy Thomson for a Twicky ride on a rainy day and for sunscreen on a sunny one.

Thanks to Sharee Carton for laughing at my poor pose, and to Lucy Huntzinger (and Dave Clements, RIP) for being cool and funny when the tire went flat. Thanks to Ted White for the observation that King Crimson's Red represented a direction that heavy metal could have taken. Thanks to Caroline (or was it Carol?) for the squalid moment in the back seat of a car.

Thanks to Ron Drummond for timely and musical conversation. I love it when you talk dirty to me. Thanks to AP McQuiddy for books, beer, and bonhomie -- and for at least one other thing that starts with a B. Thanks to Victor Gonzalez, Castle Rock cowboy, for Independence Day by the Bay and Thanksgiving in Manhattan. Thanks to Luke McGuff for hoeing the row and making a go of it, and to Art Widner for out-burping Luke.

Thanks to Spike Parsons for the Mona Lisa grin. Thanks to Glenn Hackney for compelling reading in Men's Apa and FELLAS, and for looking good in a hat. Thanks to Carrie Root for the calm, level-headed presence, even in absence. Thanks to Don Keller for the comment, "It's trying to be a Wolfe story," and to Tom Weber for helping to finish the keg before it spoiled.

Thanks to Robyn Roberson for making the first move. Thanks to Brad Matter for spastic grooves, and to Marc Olsen and Chad Shaver for tricky licks. Yeah, and thanks to the Bitches for the bruises. Thanks to Molly and Frank Blades for the upstairs smoking room and everything that has happened there, and thanks to Don Fitch for the feather in the cap. Thanks to Nancy McCann for the occasional Sherman and for once and future operas. Thanks to Cliff Wind for conversation at Mr. and Mrs. Bear's house that was just right. Thanks to Nahid Katla for the tears.

Thanks to Andy Hooper for wit, unseemly kindness, and drunken song. Thanks to Hazel for beauty beyond the call of duty and for the hugs and free ale, and to Dick for brewing most of that ale. Thanks to Lesley Reece for the smofffing and for the perfect illo of an empty gondola. Thanks to Steve Swartz for turning me on to gardening. The weeds look almost like flowers sometimes. Thanks to Ian Hagemann for responding to one number with a another. Thanks to Mark Manning for the terrifying and terrific story of family visitation in Jupiter Jump #27, and to John Hedtke for the suggestion that I measure the bottom rather than the top.

Thanks to Geri Sullivan for taking an unexpected inspiration and then giving it back. Thanks to Tommy Ferguson for pushing the (virtual) envelope in TommyWorld, and to Robert Lichtman for the loc and other egoboo. Thanks to Frank Lunney for making the LACon corridors friendlier, and to Sheila Lightsey for -- you know, I just realized the other day that you were the one hanging out with Nevenah and Barnaby at ConFrancisco. Thanks to Michael Stearns for charming the women at the dinner party and then droning on and on about Paul Auster. Mercy!

Thanks to Denys Howard for the invitation to Seattle and for doing the grocery shopping. Love & rockets, comrade!

Thanks to Jay Salmon and Elonna Lester for barbecues, Xena parties, and the jungle of flowers. Thanks to Mom, Dad, LaVelle, Jolie, Lonnie, Terry, Ryan, and Cody for being a family and lovable. Weirdos!

And lest I forget, thank you. Yeah, you. You know why.

(With apologies to Spearhead.)

Issue #80, June 20th, 1997

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