Ah, one can only wish that more of your performance-art concepts had made it to the stage, Prof. Ugly...Never (in those days) being quite sure which side of your mouths you boys were joking out of, if not actually both, an entire set of let's say, "Afternoon Delight" or "Chevy Van" and/or a pre-emptive strike of an entire Plane Jane set would've cleared that issue right up. I think the first show I ever saw was the benefit y'all played with the Nightmares to help drag mine and Brook's impoverished little student newspaper, the Dialogue, out of the fiscal hole, when you called yourselves "Ordinary Mary" as a stab at the Jane-sters. Did I say thanks for that, ever? Merely an oversight, I assure you. Have your sub-committee speak to my sub-committee about it.

Julie Fann used to tell the story that on that night, John Hicks was inscribing everyone's hand with a particularly trenchant summary of their personality, in indelible sharpie ink. On her hand, she said, he wrote, "Fuck me now." Hicks was a wonder of nature and a force all his own. He refused to mark on my hand in any fashion whatsoever, thereby declaring me either the stealth bomber or the absolute zero of humanity.