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Show TAKE IT OR LEAVE IT... BY JIM STILES MAD MUTANTS & THE EXPLOITATION OF ‘CACTUS ED’ After surviving the last two issues—I survived producing them and you survived reading them--it seemed like a good idea to lighten up a bit. | mean, after all, just how much despair and confrontation and self-flagellation can any of us endure in a calendar year? I sensed this might be a good idea months before the ‘Mirror’ and ‘Feedback’ issues even went to press and so, way back last winter, | penciled in the ‘Mad Mutants of the West’ issue for August/September. My plan was to find four or five writers, plus myself, to knock out 2000 words or so on five or six ‘characters’ who are so weird...no...that’s not the right word. So unique as to deserve a tribute to their ‘special personalities’ in this publication. Two requirements needed to be met. First they had to be interesting enough to hold the readers’ interest for two pages and, second, half of them needed to be women. Or men, depending on your point of view. In these politically correct times, gender balance is crucial and so | sought men and women to write stories about mutated men and women. | failed miserably. One by one, the would-be mutants refused the title and consequently the writers bailed. Women particularly, seemed offended by the honor I was attempting to bestow upon them. When the mass exodus from Mutantom was over, a trio of brave men were left standing. They are three of most entertaining and talented (in their own strange way) guys you could ever fear to imagine. And I know them all--know them from the Abbey days because they were all friends of Ed’s. Suddenly it struck me like a lightning bolt..." Three of Abbey’s Pals.” Of course. ~ I mentioned this idea to a friend of mine, a crazed woman in her own right who suffers severely from an unnatural obsession with the great Cactus Ed and within days, word of the "Pals of Ed" issue had been posted on the Abbey web site. The Abbey web site is a gathering place for people who admire and respect Abbey but who have way too much time on their hands. If Abbey Old friends are best. King James used to call for his old shoes. They were easiest on his feet. John Seldom 1584-1654 here, he’d offer the same admonition to them that Arches National Monument, 1956-1957 "Ed Abbey crapped through this pipe.” Ed nodded enthusiastically. "Yes!" he said. "And I could autograph each one of them. Not only would it authenticate the plaque but we could get more money for it.” But I think I hurt his feelings when | suggested a $19.95 asking price. "Christ," he complained. "We ought to get more for it than that." The idea never came to fruition. Thieves made off with the pipe, Ed moved on, and | lost interest in the project. But | think he’d be agreeable to the “exploitation” of his good name in this particular issue of The Zephyr. Besides he was always ready to lend a hand to a fellow artist. If an endorsement from Ed will help Greenspan get new gigs, help DePuy sell more art, or find new buyers for Tom’s VW collectibles, I think he’d be pleased. A CHALLENGE TO MY FELLOW INDEPENDENT PUBLISHERS As |] mentioned earlier, the last two issues of The Zephyr were selfscrutinizing - confessionals in a way. How, we asked, are environmentalists contributing to the degradation and destruction of the wild lands we all claim to cherish? We're all hypocrites to one degree or another, and I struggle with my own contradictions and hope I can do better. There are a lot of small independently owned NeWwepapers and periodicals in the Intermountain West, although we’re seeing many of them bought up by regional and national publications at an alarming rate. But for those indies that have eluded the corporate grasp, you have the freedom to print what you want. I'd like to. encourage all my fellow wild cat publishers to give up "how to get there" stories. You know what I’m talking about--the two page spreads, with photographs and side-bars that tell you how to find the West’s ever-dwindling number of seldom visited gems and what to expect to find when you get there. When you're finished reading these articles, very little is left to the imagination. They'll tell you precisely where to turn from the pavement to the two-track. They'll tell you where to park. They'll tell you what "special features” you-can expect to see and with precise mileage measurements. Is there water? They'll let you know. What an adventure! So let’s quit printing this drivel. If writers can’t think of a topic any better than this, if they're no more imaginative than this, then they should certainly find another line of work. The same goes for the publishers. "How to get there” articles have no literary value and are, in fact, extremely dangerous and counterproductive filler material. With all the problems facing the West’s dwindling . wilderness, you'd think we could find stories that better reflected our concern and our desire to help save it. Printing road maps with words of the "Last Secret Places" only contributes to their demise. William Shatner once gave to Trekkie conventioneers--"Get a Life!” But the posting did serve a useful purpose. A few days later, | received an email from writer Jim Cahalan. For the last several years, Cahalan has devoted much of his time and energy to, what he hopes will be, the definitive biography of Edward Abbey. I can certainly vouch for his intensity; he called me several times and we spoke for hours about Ed, and I was really a minor figure in Abbey’s life. Cahalan tells me that his phone conversations with Abbey’s great friend John DePuy set endurance records with AT&T. Ultimately Cahalan’s latest phone call led to the publication of an excerpt from his forthcoming biography, Edward Abbey: A Life, in this issue. One day last week, | was swilling coffee at Dave’s Corner Market and yet another friend of mine said, "So I hear you’re doing another glorification /exploitation issue on Abbey.” "Yes," L replied. "I think he’d be thrilled.” But her comment did give me pause for a moment. Am I just as goofy as the Abbey Webbed People? Am I exploiting the memory of this great man? | concluded that...no...] am not nearly as goofy as the REMEMBERING THE PROPANE FIRE Webbed People and yes, I am exploiting Cactus Ed to certain extent. Twenty years ago on a Saturday night, July 31, 1981, Moab, Utah And again, | think he’d be amused, if not "thrilled." suddenly and explosively became the lead story on the national news. I remember a conversation with Abbey, a year or two before his | It was monsoon season and we all grow accustomed to late afternoon death in 1989; the topic was nothing if not a blatant attempt to exploit and evening thunderstorms in the canyon country. In fact, we look his name and reputation. I had a plan to get rich and Ed was fully forward to the relief these storms often bring from the hot desert supportive, as long as he could share in the wealth. Here was the days. ~ deal. During my own obscenely long stay at Arches National Park as But just past sunset, a lightning bolt struck and exploded the a seasonal ranger, I had witnessed the long and steady stream of propane tanks north of Moab and just adjacent to the Slickrock pilgrims who came to Arches just to visit The Site. Campground. A fireball of ignited gas spewed from the end of the Of course, | speak of Ed’s trailer site at the Monument during the tanks and sprayed the north end of the ey ipeound like a giant 1956/57 seasons. Decades later, the trailer was gone and most of the flamethrower. other artifacts had been picked clean (The last rusty Ed Abbey beer As the fire raged out of control, it became clear that vast bottle cap was dug up and claimed by a tourist from Lawrence, underground storage facilities on site, holding millions of cubic feet Kansas in 1979). But what still remained at the time ‘was a corroded of propane, could ignite as well. In fact, it was possible that such an segment of Ed’s leach field pipe. explosion had the power to destroy the entire north end of Moab. When ! were Authentic Edward Abbey Leach Field Pipe the Park Service installed the old trailer, there wasn’t enough real soil to build a proper septic system and underground I was a seasonal ranger at Arches, stationed at the Devils Garden leach field. So the Park Service laid the pipe on the bare slickrock Campground, and on this particular evening was looking forward to and then simply covered it with a lot of Moenkopi shalesone. It a quiet dinner with the lovely Dana Blum...the Georgia Peach. Dana would not pass health codes today. was a Student Conservation Aid at the park that summer and I had Over the decades, the Moenkopi eroded away and the oS ee been begging unsuccessfully for two months for a date. Now finally exposed. _ Dana had relented. We had just sat down for dinner when | heard a I contemplated a use for this pipe for years, Finally I went to crackling and broken transmission on the two-way radio. Beyond the Abbey with a proposition. What if we cut this pipe into one inch ‘Static I could hear the urgency in his voice. It was NPS Ranger Carl sections and mounted it on an attractive wooden plaque with the Douhan and he was calling for "all units equipped for medical brass plate that reads: ~ “evacuation! Report to Allen Memorial Hospital!” I stared briefly at Dana, who looked lovely beyond words on that — |