Mr. Pingree,
I hope it does not shock you to know that you still have some fans left. It was fun reading that one magazine (MXA) tell you to go to school. I'm glad you were able to get a job after your racing career ended. I have a signed poster of yours hanging on my wall. You're shredding a berm on an orange bike in 2002. How many other people have your posters on their walls? Do you know? I can't be the only one, can I?
Paul Nash

Dear Paul,

I can say with confidence that you aren’t my only fan. Just the other day I got a drawing in the mail from a kid in Kentucky. The drawing was supposed to be me riding, but it looked more like an extreme close-up of a pile of vomit in a gutter. Or maybe this kid was eating spaghetti and he just wiped his hands on the page. I’m not sure. I do know that he was almost old enough to drive a car and that if this was his best work, than he is probably “challenged.” For a slow kid, it was thought-provoking and artsy, but for a 15-year-old with the appropriate number of chromosomes, it was an art-class F waiting to happen. In fact, F doesn’t even describe it properly. Is there a G grade?
    My point is that I have great fans all over the place. There’s this kid in Kentucky that loves me enough to send me the occasional Rembrandt, there’s you, and there’s … well, I’m sure there are others. So thanks, and rest assured, you aren’t the only one. I think. I mean, I’m pretty sure.
PING


Ping,
Did you know you can die from pulling nose hairs?
Andy Munro. Cypress, Texas

Dear Andy,
I didn’t know that, actually. But if I look like I’m growing two little afros out of each nostril the next time you see me, it’s because you’ve just scared the hell out of me. Thanks.
PING


Dear Ping,
Exactly what do they cut in arm-pump surgery? I have been thinking that maybe I can open up a back-door chop shop and perform this surgery on privateers for half price. All I need is a diagram or something. Think you can help?
Kearns #77

Dear Kearns,
I’ve never had that surgery myself, but I understand it’s just like chicken. Have you ever seen that thin, transparent coating over a chicken breast? That’s what is cut off during arm-pump surgery. So I think if you get a good set of knives—you know, the ones you can buy late at night on QVC that will actually cut through cans and leather shoes—and some black-market painkillers and some Neosporin (or maybe just high-octane Elf fuel), you could have yourself a nice little operation. No pun intended.
    I’m not a big fan of diagrams, but if I were quarterbacking this idea of yours, I would guess you just fillet the rider's arm from the elbow to the wrist, dig around until you find your “chicken skin,” and yank it out, and then sew up the bloody gash and slap some Neosporin on it. Tell your patient to pop some pills and he’ll be right as rain in a few weeks or months, depending on his genetic ability to heal from such a butchering.
    Now, I’m not a law student, but I would also highly suggest some consent and release-of-liability forms. You can’t be too careful in this lawsuit-happy day and age. There are a lot of wackos out there with crazy, crackpot schemes. So good luck with your back-door chop shop idea—the privateers will eat it up.
PING