May 18 , 2004

Dear Tiny-Dog,

Help me.. HELP ME! I'm a Lowry. And indeed, speaking as a card-carrying member of this illusive and brooding clan, I too have issues. I'm afraid I possess similar traits to those of my sibling. As you well know, oh dog so tiny, the behavior of a Lowry defies understanding and may invite unwelcome, un-intentioned scorn as suggested by the recent postings of your earth-bound guardian's collection of strangely alluring, utterly useless, plastic objects possessing arbitrarily high and utterly unpredictable monetary value. Yes Tiny-Dog... just like tech-stocks and golf-clubs as you were about to say. I offer as proof that I am another Lowry, evidence that I indeed possess these similar and shocking traits that were born, I suspect, in the suburbs. But before the shocking proof is revealed let us pontificate.. shall we?

As I look back on those Kool-Aid soaked yesteryears that stained our very souls, my thoughts are reeling.. spinning like the wheels of upside down bicycles resting precariously on their seats and handlebars in the lawn.. as we cranked the pedals with our hands for reasons no mortal could comprehend*... the spokes glinting in the sunlight at 610-RPM.. spinning wildly... thirsting greedily for fingers.. yet amazingly never claiming nary a digit. I wonder where and why it all began...

As I think back on those many long summer days where we sat, quite mesmerized by the observation that you can, in fact, saw a graham cracker in half.. with another graham cracker I have to wonder why, even now, we cannot see the wisdom wrought by that experience... and apply it, as need-be, while in line at Target, or in meetings where fake managers pretend to be in control of a room full of reluctant beings each wondering, individually, how in god's name they can continue to get away with getting paid before someone demonstrates the empty aimless reality of their workday .. and instead only remember an empty margarine bowl full of graham cracker dust.. "All we are is dust..." oh never mind. Tom Nokashima** was warning us all along ... the dial on the stereo was a metaphor... like a bicycle wheel. You have to keep it moving... if you want to find purpose. Or at least anything decent. The bicycle could have carried us away from the Jokari's and the Atari's.. but, as Lowry's, we had it all "upside down" like a horse and a song.

As we fast forward to today... we have to acknowledge the very possibility that Lowry gene damage may be at work here. Genes damaged, I suggest, by the highly toxic radiation formed by the cardboard walls of Larchmont Homes and, in fact, the cardboard souls of the residents therein.

But do not despair tiny-dog.. for one has to wonder... as we watch plastic newscasters reporting anger over America's choice in surreal episodes of "reality TV" talent shows.. whether a damaged gene, is in fact, an improvement.

You must conclude that the strange and curious behavior in Lowry's that inspires them to gather, collect, catalogue, discuss, rearrange, box-up, un-box and re-display useless objects of subtle varying qualities in dozens of arbitrary arrangements is, in fact, a horrific family trait.

For you see.. tiny-dog.. as we were taught since birth.. Heredity runs in our family***.

I offer another example of horrific, feverish, earth shattering Lowry energy funneled into a virtual black hole of useless, disappointing, yet curiously and thoroughly documented set of non-achievements. Yes tiny-dog, Behold this predictably unacknowledged, and ironically miraculous achievement that, in this modern era of angry "no Wal-Marts in my cardboard suburb, we already have Target's thank you very much" protest steeped days of pre de-evolution, would be quite unachievable.

The Atari Safari Click it... if you dare.

- A Lowry.. does it matter which one?

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*I believe this was known as Ice Cream Machine

**Baritone-voiced easy listening DJ of Sacramentan past, who has a strange grip on the memory of former Sacramentans

***A notorious quote attributable to our mother

Hey, peeps. Send a letter immediately. I know you have seen the site. I've seen the page hits. And I am not a fool.
mail@tiny-dog.com.