[this is to the insurance company of the trucker who ran into my car.] 981 South Arapahoe

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Skeptic Tank!

[this is to the insurance company of the trucker who ran into my car.] 981 South Arapahoe Street Los Angeles, CA 90006 March 31, 1981 To the Safety Department: Enclosed is the Bill of Sale and Receipt for a C.B. radio, public (P.A.) speaker, and antenna; and repair bill, for when I had to put my Baby in the hospital, because she wasn't feeling good. I don't know why you should want to read this, but I'm going to say it, anyway. Mr. Jerry Lane Berk, and his witness, Walter Proch were in a conspiracy to wipe me out, because they didn't like what I said over the C.B. I have as much right to live, and as much right to speak my peace as anyone else does. If a man doesn't enjoy the peace I intend to perform, that's because he's a violent man and he doesn't deserve the blessings in his life. He'd better make peace with himself, and all his enemies, if he intends to live. I protest that Mr. Berk wiped my space ship off the air, in this Close Encounter Of A Third Kind. I protest that he left me stranded, broke, and with no wheels, in the middle of the desert. I protest about the other three times I crossed the desert, too, but this is the first time I had anything of value to put in a claim for. I protest that Mr. Berk caused the partnership of my sidekick and me to break up. I protest that Mr. Berk caused me to ride a freight train in to Los Angeles, because the Greyhound bus won't let me take a two-month-old female mongrel puppy named "Baby," for which she caught distemper and I had to put her to sleep. I really haven't lost anything because it's all in my head, and I can put it together any time I want to. When I do, Mr. Berk should've learned his lesson, that he can't sprinkle salt on an eagle's tail, that when I come in, for a landing, I'm not asking for a fight, that there's something here I want, that I'm not leaving here until I get it, and that there's nothing he can do about it. So, he'd better back off, and leave me alone. You ain't never seen a rebel, or an outlaw, like me before, because when those other guys broke the law, they lost. I defy the law, and in the name of Jesus Christ, I win! Now, I ask you, could Robin Hood fail to share his good fortune with his Merry Men, and the townsfolk? Is not every raid against the Evil Sheriff a profitable venture to further our enterprise? You should have learned by now that we have no other way to advance, or to make any changes for the better, except by taking what we want from the Evil Sheriff and his men. How else would you propose that the high being made low and the low being made high should happen? I don't mind telling you that I'm getting a little tired of people saying they want what I want, and then taking pot shots at me when I try to get it. All I can tell you is, rejoice in the blessings that have fallen upon your heads, and give me a fair shake. Here in California, I can't get myself back on the road again for less than $1500. That's ten times what I had to pay back home, in my Hillbilly Haven. Talk about inflation! Shiloh

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