Letters From Jake

From the time my family moved to Edmonton in 1992 until I moved in with Aunt Joyce in 1995, my cousin Jake and I wrote letters to each other regularly. (One of us more regularly than the other, you little bastard!) I don’t think Jake ever realized this, but the letters I got from him were very important to me, and I cheered up whenever I got one. During my teen years, he was my closest friend no matter where I was living. The following are quotes from some of his letters that cracked me up:

“I just thought what to get Travis for his birthday. A brand new fresh pickle that hasn’t been discoloured yet. He is still using the old one. He still bugs me, but he says things after he has passed me and is 5 feet away at least, or if he is at the top of the stairs and I’m at the bottom. He still won’t fight, I guess I’ll just have to kill him. Well maybe not, I might get charged for murder. In court when they ask me something I can just say ‘no recollection’ and then they will say ‘Either you are very stupid and can’t remember or you are lying. We think you are smart, what do you think?’ ‘No recollection.’ Then they would say ‘My gosh’ and leave and the judge would faint and all the witnesses would be nice and let me go and make the jury keep the secret and say I was abducted by a UFO and we would conspire and rule the world.”

Travis Cooper was a kid in Raymond who Jake and I both couldn't stand. In grade 7, he would always call me "Monster Jaw", as if it were the insult to end all insults. After I moved away, Jake carried the torch for me. He and Travis hated each other, and the running joke was that Travis had a pickle shoved up his butt.

“Am I small gnew named Doralynndayman? I sure hope not, because if I am I’m going to be mad.”

I have no clue what Jake was talking about in that one.

“How is it going in the city? Is it an adventure everyday? It sure is here in Raymond. Why, just last week someone broke a Coke bottle on the sidewalk. Then this guy said a bad word and everybody felt sick inside for the rest of the day. Then there are these guys and they were smoking and I said, ‘That’s not righteous’ and they stopped.”

Sarcasm.

“Nanabush will soon be visiting you. You must go to the southwest corner of the world and scream. He will come, you must SCREAM! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWIIIIIIIEEEEEEE!!!!!! IYE IYE IYE IYE IYE IYE! He will then be summoned and you must tell him of the long journey ahead of him, otherwise all is lost. If you do not do this you cannot be forgiven. This is an old sacred Indian chain letter which you must pass on to Nanabush. If you do not do this the birds will peck out your eyes, the wolves will eat your hands, and your head will be delivered to the Sun God.”

Utter nonsense.

“Gentlemen:

“I am shocked and appalled at what was said in the last issue of Uncle Ruben’s House. Such things should not be in print. Your magazine, or so I thought, was considered to be one of the most informative and intellectually stimulating publications on the newsstand. With deep resentment I have enclosed a Canadian nickel and a serious bomb threat. Be very alarmed, and don’t leave home without it. Thank you for you support in advance.”

“I’ve done it again. I can still remember my mom saying, ‘Jake, never drink from the short end of the straw!’ Why didn’t I listen to her d!m*it. Now I have to pay. How come mothers are always right? It just makes me malade. Of course, then again, mothers are the ones that say don’t sip your orange pop in straight order form, and hey, it works just fine for me!”

This one was mailed with a Canadian nickel and a recipe card with "bomb threat" scrawled on it in crayon.