My dear sir,

My feelings of dismay at having my letterboxing reputation dragged
through the mud overwhelm me. I fear your reputed incisive logic has
more in common with an out-of-control weed-eater than a precision X-
acto knife.

You knit, sir? I stand amazed! Given the impetuous nature of your
accusations heretofore, I would think you might lack the patience.
As far as camouflaging the bark zapper Use larger cables in your
pattern next time.

As to your so-called "proof" of my perfidy, I will address each
accusation individually, 1 at a time, and you will see that they
actually prove nothing except my belief that good manners and
etiquette do not stop at letterboxing.

So I contemplate dealing out mayhem to parking space stealers, do I?
And you have never felt the injustice of sitting in a parking lot
with the turn signal flashing, waiting for a car to back out of a
space, only for a car to come in the other direction and zip into
the space before you could? Who among us would not contemplate some
well-deserved retribution? The proof of my good manners, sir, is
that I have never dealt out the retribution such scandalous actions
deserve!

You mention that my favorite insect (I find the term "creepy crawly"
offensive) is the flying cockroach. In fact, sir, these are more
properly called "palmetto bugs" and they can be extremely effective
for clearing a room, as well as clearing the area around a
letterbox, much more politely than walking up and telling people to
leave. I usually carry at least 2 with me for just such an occasion.

Finally, what is wrong with planting a few cooties on new boxers? As
I'm sure you know, I frequent the Newboxers list and help out as I
may, but all the e-mail in the world will only present theory to the
newbies. The theory must be backed up with practical experience.
Therefore, I plant a few cooties on the newbies I meet to teach them
what I consider the most important point of etiquette in
letterboxing--how to contact the placer.

That's right. They are given the opportunity to contact me and tell
me how it felt to be "cootied". They need to learn that it is not
enough to merely send a Found report. A good note to a placer
includes details about the weather, trail condition, wildflowers
seen, room left in the logbook, anything that will help the planter
gain knowledge about the condition of their box. A good note will
also allow the planter to vicariously relive your experience and
share a bit of your own joy in that sprained ankle that sent you
face first into the mud.

I digress. I would never steal the Store. The Store should be
available for all to visit since good etiquette is essential to
successful letterboxing. As far as my integrity and innocence in
this matter, I am sure that Eidolon will be able to reassure you
that I am not the one you seek.

Instead of throwing accusations around willy-nilly, I really feel
you need to concentrate and focus on the clues before making any
more accusations. I grew up in the South, Inspector Bacon; good
manners and fair dealing are as vital to a Southerner as air and
water.

Bless your heart, dear sir, but you aren't from around here, are you?

Sincerely,
Knit Wit


--- In letterbox-usa@yahoogroups.com, Investigator Francis Bacon
wrote:
>
> Well, I think my grandmother would vouch for my tender
> spot. Just yesterday I finished knitting a sweater for
> her poodle. While it is true that she did not
> appreciate the built-in bark zapper, she did
> compliment me on the yarn color.
>
> I should have asked Knit Wit how to camouflage the
> zapper. Heard she is pretty evil with a pair of
> knitting needles. Speaking of evil, she even admitted
> once that she contemplates dealing out mayhem to those
> that take her parking spot. Dare I ask just what the
> knitting needles are for?
>
> But, then what would you expect from a woman whose
> favorite creepy crawly is the flying cockroach? Should
> I mention the cooties? Newbies, beware; this is a
> dangerous woman!
>
> I ask you, is this a woman concerned with manners? I
> think not! What other forms of chaos might this Knit
> Wit enjoy creating? The answer is obvious; do not let
> her innocent guise fool you.
>
> Knit Wit, admit the folly of your ways. Return the
> Store, along with a few general remarks of apology,
> and all will be forgiven.
>
> Sincerely,
>
> Investigator Francis Bacon
>
>
>
>
>
>
_____________________________________________________________________
_______________
> Moody friends. Drama queens. Your life? Nope! - their life, your
story. Play Sims Stories at Yahoo! Games.
> http://sims.yahoo.com/
>

Feint, Parry, Retreat.

I can't decide if you are the most inept sleuth ever, are using a
random name generator for your "suspect list" or are just a
professional politician changes opinions with the wind but I swear
there are fewer changes of direction in a ping pong match than in
your investigation. Granted, my own perverse curiosity has forced me
to keep watching your train wreck; this is better than the OJ trial,
The Jerry Springer Show and The Gong Show all rolled into one but
when it comes to investigating, you are no Jacques Clouseau, you are
not even Inspector Gadget; in all honesty your skill is probably even
surpassed by the esteemed Rosco P. Coltrane. And yet I keep reading.
But you crossed the line when your blindly thrown dart hit Knit Wit's
name (who were you aiming for, King Kong?) and you tried to drag her
name through the ever-growing pile of
sh.................oddy "research" that is accumulating at your feet,
though it is probably up to your knees by now.

So now Knit Wit is your thief? For today at least, she is your #1
suspect? You actually think she stole the Store of Good Manners? That
is about as ridiculous as David Hasselhoff's singing career. All you
have done is baselessly blame people all over the country. You
accuse, learn how completely poor a judge of character you are, then
take another stab, hoping to get lucky. Just how much time and money
have you spent on your obviously arbitrary pursuit of suspects so
far? Who will be next; Ms. Post herself?

Let me tell you a little story. It was a hot day in July at Stone
Mountain Park, the site of the LBSE Annual Event and also the first
letterboxing event I ever attended. I was armed with an ink pad and a
notebook and a list of names. I did at least have markers at that
point so had enough experience to know colors are much less boring.
Wow, I can barely remember that, I actually had new Marvy Brush
Markers back then, not the beat up ones I have today (which probably
are the exact same markers in all likelihood). That was before I
bought the Crayola ones for their carrying case and just gave all
those markers to the neighbor kids since they are too wet (the
markers, not the kids). Anyway, to try and get a jump on things, I
arrived at the park when it opened first thing in the morning and
started boxing while it was still dark. Boxing in the dark, my that
has become quite a pattern in the time since then for me. Any box can
be made into a night box with enough effort though these days it
tends to be the end of the day where I run into that problem, not the
beginning Anyway, I nabbed a few boxes and tried to avoid the other
weirdos I saw on the trails in those predawn hours since I at least
knew enough not to be muggled. Man some of those people were scary!
Why would people be out climbing over rocks to hide behind them and
having hushed conversations in the woods when it is still dark
anyway? Eventually I made my way over to the gathering area and was
quite surprised to see all those strange people I was avoiding
earlier start strolling in as well. Obviously I just smiled and tried
to wash the entire bizarre memory from my mind until now thanks
Instigator Bacon, I will send the therapy bill to you. Please email
me your address off list.

Where was I? Oh yeah, the gathering. There was activity everywhere:
adults, kids, dogs, food, plus a nice mix of sweltering Atlanta heat,
bugs, coffee cups with stamps (I am still mad I missed one that was
specifically pointed out to me by She Who Plants; it was the one in
the purple cup) and funny colored fingers. Yet one of the most
memorable things about this event was when I heard a lady asking
everyone "are you Eidolon?" until she eventually came to me. Well, I
was not sure what I had done so of course said "no, I am Green
Tortuga" but apparently she did not believe me. It turns out the
stalker lady was actually Knit Wit and she had tracked me down
because she specifically wanted to meet me. Why anyone would want to
subject themselves to meeting me is beyond my comprehension but
people do the craziest things sometimes umm, yeah, we are talking
about Knit Wit, sorry. She was extremely welcoming and really made me
feel at home. Well, not really "at home" since that would probably
have involved air conditioning and cold drink of some sort, but you
know what I mean; she made me feel as comfortable as one can be
sitting on a concrete picnic table in the middle of summer in
Atlanta.

But again, I digress. Knit Wit told me she knew I had been boxing for
a little while but she also knew I did not ever join the newboxers
list so she had taken it upon herself to find me at this event and
make sure I had some of the finer points of boxing etiquette
explained to me. As we sat there talking, it was amazing the things I
learned from her, not only about boxing etiquette but about life in
general. One topic she kept coming back to was the importance of
taking the time to contact the placer. I told her I always logged my
boxes as `found' but she said that is not enough. What should happen
in a polite community such as letterboxing is that the finder
attempts to let the placer relive the thrill of the hunt vicariously
through the comments made on their box. Simply saying "found", while
nice and at least useful, is not the proper way to go about things.
She actually recommended a book to me to help me understand what she
was talking about and to reinforce the point she was trying to make;
Amy Vanderbilt's New Complete Book of Etiquette: The Guide to
Gracious Living (Garden City: Doubleday, '67). When she said the
title I of course laughed, thinking "what do I need with some *burp*
outdated *scratch* book on how to *spit* be polite?" but she
persisted and I must say, while it is not vital that a letterboxer
know which fork is which, reading the Correspondence section from
this publication is invaluable and I just wish there was a way to get
all other boxers to read it as well.

So no, Sleuthful Swine, Knit Wit cannot possibly be the party who
stole the Store of Good Manners. In fact, she actively PROMOTES
proper letterboxing etiquette as well as inspires others to go to the
store and buy a book on good manners for themselves, not steal one.
If this does not completely exonerate her then I am at a loss to know
what other proof you might require. Please, feel free to point your
not-exactly-a-bloodhound nose in a different direction and just move
on to your next "suspect" but leave Knit Wit out of your inane search.

--Eidolon