While the managing editor of The
Goliard was futilely trying to collect enough material for the
current issue, there was a sudden surge of excitement in the
newsroom as an
unexpected movie review came rolling in via email from Mr.
"It'll have to do" was the collected opinion, since no one
else had even been to the movies lately. Stupidly, a voice in the
corner from behind a tattered American Orchid Society Bulletin was
heard to say, "hey, where is he anyway?"
"Excellent question!" Said the editor, furiously beating on
"I want something on my desk by next Tuesday - 6
Following some unprintable comments from behind the photo of "Dendrobium
Tie-Dye", the magazine was put aside, and the search for Mr.
Atwater begun. A shuffling of papers and scrolling through old
emails for a clue to his where-abouts ensued, and a hearty laugh was
enjoyed by all when a errand boy claimed to have seen a photo of
him on the internet from the last Drop Dead Festival held in
Philadelphia. "I don't know what's funnier - Atwater in leather
and a Mohawk, or the suggestion that Atwater would dare go back to
the City of Brotherly Love" - Anyone not in on that particular
story will just have to use their imagination, as everyone in
attendance had been sworn to secrecy under the threat of having
their actual high school GPAs sent to their paying employers.
Repeated emails to the contributor in question were ignored, though
this was not surprising as they were all sent in the span of about
20 minutes, and to random addresses pulled from the Scottish History
online Guest Book.
"GET OUT OF HERE ALREADY" shouted the only person actually
working, and after taking the last cold Ipswich Ale out of the
fridge, the hunt began. Starting the trail at the last known sighting
of Mr. A - the only Chuckie Cheese in Peru, we were informed by the
staff member stamping hands at the door "ches, I see Meester
Atwater here just last month, he ate two peezas and a peetcher of Dr
Pepper, and left mumbling Maggie Maggie Maggie." The astute
follower of the Atwater saga will recall that when Mrs. Atwater
decided to leave she took not only The Movie Man but also her Visla
Maggie. A quick booting of the computer, a satellite uplink, and google search of
"Maggie the Visla" first took us back to our own website,
and suggested that just maybe we were spelling Vizsla incorrectly.
We next found that Maggie of Michigan is obviously too young to be
the correct Maggie, that Maggie is a very common name not only for
Vizslas but also their owners, and that there are way to many
websites about hunting breeds out there. Doggedly we continued until
a thread led us to continue the quest in Atlanta. There we found
that we had just blown our expense account for the next three years,
but at least we found an excellent pair of yellow Capri pants at the
Atlanta Underground Mall. You know, the kind with the embroidery
around the hems - and in the exact same pink as the sleeveless
sweater and cardigan twin set from the Talbot's sale, the sweater
that really brings out the color of our eyes so we get free drinks
in airport bars - oh yeah - Atwater. So he wasn't in Atlanta,
apparently hadn't ever been there, and if only we'd checked our
voice mail messages before we left we would have known he'd decided
to go to Ipanema to become a professional Samba instructor.
to original story about The Atwaters