Brett Zehner
Click on Wes’ face to read all our letters to him.
Dear Wes.
Hi again.
I just turned 28. I wrote a song called 28 with a sweater and a cup of tea.
Still no fame (that I know of) which is sort of good because I cleared the ol’ 27 hump with little damage.
But in fact it’s not true. There has been plenty of damage. A junkyard full of it. I tend to fib because I have a bad memory. But here are some true concrete checkable facts. A list in fact that I keep to help me fend off memory gaps:
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Click on Wes to see all our letters to him.
January 25, 2012 2:00pm
Dear Wes Anderson, I heard you took the train from Chicago to southern California. I thought it was kind of cute to hear you don’t like airplanes. They scare me too, somewhat, but not enough so that I can’t ride them. The other night, Brett told us the story. He’d been gone for Christmas to Columbus, Ohio. He didn’t mention the train story until after a couple beers at the kitchen table. I showed him I Love Dick by Chris Kraus—a series of billet-doux glitter bombs from a married couple to a man named Dick.
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