Letters to the Editor

Harry S. Pariser
Inner Sunset

Advice from a nonprofit veteran:The brief reference to me in this article ["SOUL Trainers," Oct. 16] distorts the point I made over and over in my conversation with Peter Byrne: my great admiration for and trust in the young activists of this generation. In discussing the fiscal casualness of many of us in the '60s movements, I was not endorsing that behavior. Most importantly, I did NOT say that I talk to SOUL people all the time -- sounds as if I'm a sort of adviser -- rather that I talk to young activists in general about the hazards of nonprofit funding, a reality already very clear to the savvy SOUL organizers.

Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz
Potrero Hill

We'll have what he's having: Finally somebody gets it about the Apples in Stereo [Reviews, Oct. 2]. I've lived in Denver for decades (home to Pet Sounds' clubhouse until the band finally moved half a year ago), and if it ain't about the frickin' Apples, it's about JonBenet, Columbine, or those stupid polar bears. Yeah, the Apples are great ... and Carrot Top is the next Buster Keaton.

But dig this, SF Weekly: Once I had a dream that I chauffeured my precious minstrels to the Grammy Awards in a magic stretch limo with lollipop wheels and candy-pipe organs. Grooviness ensued as our little darlings swept every category and lipsank [sic] themselves flawlessly. Afterwards we all went to Raffi's mansion with George Martin and Brian Wilson and oh, how we partied! Much la-la-la-ing. There was a piñata too: a baby harp seal with fangs! (That was kind of scary; Brian Wilson cried.) Robert Schneider was then blindfolded, swinging a long stick wildly, until candy rained down in colorful sheets of fluffy surprise (food from the gods of music, I think). Then we all jumped fully clothed into the pool, were happy and shiny, and Raffi rocked till dawn. True story.

When I awoke in a cold sweat, I realized that I'd been listening to the Apples in mono all of these years. What a difference it makes otherwise!

John La Briola
Denver, Colo.

The photographs for Peter Byrne's story "SOUL Trainers" in last week's issue were credited incorrectly. They were shot by Donald R. Winslow. SF Weekly regrets the error.