Lester Bangs was a friend of mine (regardless)

Blindfolded, I stuck my paw deep into That Seventies Box and withdrew my address book, circa '74. Names had been scribbled in and out, and a few were circled. Lester's was framed in. I'd started writing letters to CREEM magazine back in Ashtabula, as a daydreaming teener, and became penpals with Lester Bangs, who I considered that most visceral of all music scribes. It didn't matter who or what he was writing about, he could get your heart thumping and blood racing, and that has always been the gre at mystery and power of the pen, the astonishing physical result of one's eyeballs scanning over words on paper. Think about it, it's supernatural! Just the fact that some writty will cause you to yawn and nod, another will give you Excedrin headache #214, another will result in flush and gush, and yet another will get you running for ammo. Silent script, the power of the people, the last vestige of hope. Lester was always one for rants and tangents, and was absolutely my mental mentor when it came to the Spit It Out school of fanzinery. Once I hit NYS drinking and driving age, I came up against some of his musical views. You will note in the letter that follows that he had acquired a loath esome taste for the Clash and assorted arty-farties, and bashed against the wrong parties. Regardless of this, and of later, harsher commentaries, I held him in the highest regard. I still do.

I read this missal in mental oration mode to myself again last night, word after word, run-on sentence after run-on sentence, and was thrilled all over again by the super-positivity factor, and then filled with sadness, knowing that we can all rest assured that none of us will ever get another stamped letter of this magnitude ever again.

Correspondence lost all l uster when sealing wax went through its last moment in vogue, in exactly the rotty seventies that taint this tale. I think I still have a stick or two of pink wax and a seal that forms a very ornate, ladylike "m". If I find it, I'll use it henceforth.

So here is the long lost letter; may it serve you well. I added an Ohio-era letter from Punk Mag with a Lester reference. It was stuck to the back of the long Lester letter with some invisible goo.

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