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| { letters } We enjoy mail—who doesn't?—and appreciate your correspondence. Please send us letters. And photos, good golly photos. We will print them. Letters to The New Yinzer should be sent electronically to letters@newyinzer.com or physically through the USPS to: The New Yinzer, 315 Gross Street, Apartment Three, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 15224. --- From: James Maude To whom it may concern, A tear has come to my eye. It would trail over muhuge beaming smile if it hadn't evaporated over myblushing cheeks! I am so proud to have seen theevolution of Steve May. I remember the Steve May of old, a scraggly youngtyke wandering the wastelands (i.e. South Oaklandbeyond the Boulevard of the Allies) in olive greenjacket and corduroy pants. He looked sad, downtrodden,like a mule shown the promise of too many carrots butgiven the firm boot up the derriere instead. I remember his first scribblings in "The PittNews." I believe it was the summer of 1999 when hetold us about how he did nothing in Germany, stared atwomen and said nothing to them in Germany, and how hehad mastered the German language except for keyphrases like "Excuse me Miss, would you care to joinme for a glass of fortified wine and braunschweiger bythe railroad tracks?" But then he returned to the United States. Webegan to see a different Steve May (prior to 2000,known by the much more droll Stephen). Infused withthe spirit of the red, white and blue, he started toply his trade with the late "InPittsburgh." A stillindie-oriented but much more confident Steve Mayemerged. Gone were the olives and browns, replaced withclothes that oozed color, oozed charm, oozed passion.Oranges, yellows and greens draped his bodice moreconfidently than the flappy olive and loose brownshad. He was a different man at the Squirrel Hill Cafe(i.e. the Cage), with a beautiful woman on his arm anda great story to tell. (Though we still don't believehim about his tale of the time he chastisedsemi-famous director Brett Leonard for selling outwith rubbish techno-thrillers like "Virtuosity," thenproceeding to bed down Mr. Leonard's wife who was soinspired by his display.) And now, we see in his latest tale, his rising tothe level of cocktail party. He has stripped off thefinal shackles and emerged as a fully evolved partybeast. True, his piece may be so-called fiction, buton every level, it represents a seismic shift frominert, introverted small town "Stephen," to theManhattan-sipping Hollywood director wife beddingyinzer icon "Steve." And I'm proud to say I've seen him on every stepof this remarkable transformation. Regards, --- From: M. Hedges New Yinzers, I was quite upset after reading Mr. Bobseger vanzant Humblepie's letter to issue number 11. Does this guy go to suburban strip malls in December dressed as Santa and hand-out fishing lures shaped liked candy canes to small children? Mr. Humblepie, Santa is real, and you forgot to add Robocop to your damn Pittsburgh-movies list. Sincerely, | |