bookmark_borderDear Mr. Mann – Southwest

Dear Southwest,

A few months ago, me and my buddy Hoss were talking about going somewhere scenic. After some back and forth, we decided to go to Detroit. I’m not sure how Detroit ended up on the menu, but here we are. Anywho, we made the trip a few days ago, and let me tell you something, Detroit was cold, and then muggy, and then cold again. It was a terrible idea to go there in April. However, the trip up? Solid gold. We stopped in Nashville and had some beers… and then some BBQ… at 8:00 AM. It seemed like the right thing to do. I liked Nashville so much, that I almost thought of skipping my connecting flight to DTW so I could sample more of that sweet sweet BBQ, but alas, this is a story about going to Detroit on your plane.

Now, picture this… Me, in all my manly bearded glory, in Detroit, seeing the sights… Taking it all in… and thinking about nothing but my return flight home, through the Nashville airport. Coming home, I get on the plane, I pick my seat… GOLD. I connect my ol’ lappy toppy to the ol’ WiFis…. GOLD. I open up my browser and start watching The Eternals… BRONZE (it was not a good movie). We take off on time… GOLD. We have some bumps on the way… ALUMINIUM (I’m a nervous flier)… But, cheap cocktails… GOLD.

And when I get to Nashville, ERRY ONE gets off the plane, but me and this lady named Loretta… or was it Linda? Maybe Louise? I don’t know. She was nice. Oh, and one of the flight attendants gave me a Diet Coke because I helped pick up trash… GOLD.

I guess the real reason I’m writing you this letter is that I want a model of a Southwest plane. Can I have one? Please? Gimmie?


bookmark_borderDear Mr. Mann – PDQ II

Dear People Dedicated to Quality,

On a day, much like this day, but in the past, because I’m not a time traveler… yet, I was thinking about your delicious chicken and wondering if you had ever stopped to consider the ramifications of such delicious chicken on the world at large. Have you ever considered that your chicken, yes YOUR CHICKEN, could potentially be the cause of world peace in our lifetimes? Have you ever considered that your chicken, yes YOUR CHICKEN, could bring people to the table who otherwise would not meet because of bias or hatred? Have you ever considered that your chicken, yes YOUR CHICKEN, could cause a revival of love and hope throughout the land, much like it was during the days of Woodstock (so I’ve heard, I wasn’t actually at Woodstock, because I’m not a time traveler… yet)?

I see a world where your chicken, yes YOUR CHICKEN, could be a new worldwide currency. It could be traded on the commodities markets and when given as a gift, be the most ardent show of affection for another person. Your chicken, yes YOUR CHICKEN, could be what we build our houses and office buildings with. We could use ketchup to write our most important works on pieces of your chicken, yes YOUR CHICKEN, to be preserved for future generations (not that I know anything about future generations… I’m not a time traveler… yet).

I guess what I’m saying is, please treat your chicken with the care and respect it deserves because it may be more important for humanity than you think… or… you know… whatever… I’m not a time traveler or anything… yet…

-James “The Doctor” Gamble

bookmark_borderDear Mr. Mann – Bang Energy II

Dear Bang,

A few nights ago I had a dream that I was a horse. You’d think that’d be a great dream right? Frolicking around in a field without a care in the world? Eating fresh apples and oats every day? Getting to run like the wind if you wanted to? But no… not this dream. See, I was a carousel horse in my dream, a carousel housed in the back of an 18 wheeler screaming down I90 to Butte, Montana for the annual Silver Festival. Butte is home to like, 9 people, all of them overweight, so I was not excited about this chapter in my story.

My trainer, aka, Jerry the Mechanic, drinks a lot of Bang and always seems to be in a good mood. It could also be that he’s the owner of the carnival and the only one of the employees that get to sleep in air conditioning on a regular basis. See, Jerry is the man that takes care of me (you remember, I’m a carnival horse in this dream… and boy what a dream, and what an ending… I hope you stick around for it. It’s going to be something.) and makes sure my shiny plastic horse mane is clean. He’s always wiping down my handlebars because if he didn’t, they’d be super sticky from the sugar of all the funnel cakes that people who go to carnivals, such as this one, like to eat.

So one day, I say to Jerry, “Hey man, can I try some of your Bang?” And Jerry was all like, “Holy heck! A talking fake horse!” And I’m all like “Yeah man, Jerry, thanks for all you do, but I’d really like to try some of your Bang.” Jerry says, “Alright…” and he pours some on my permanently opened plastic horse mouth. And guess what? It was nice. And then, I woke up.


James D. Gamble II Ph.D (Professional Horse Dreamer)