Several years ago a good friend of mine and I were hanging out, like friends do. The conversation took a turn for the weird (like they do) and I told him about a strange occurrence that transpired in my former (now torn-down) abode, Fort Awesome. For an entire month, I received anonymous messages on my answering machine from a very young boy (it was seriously hard to tell how old he was, I would hazard a guess that he was anywhere from 6-10 if pressed) who thought that he was calling on a girl whom he was sweet on. Obviously, he had the wrong number – and I couldn’t call him back – so each new message had a more urgent, if not desperate ring to it. His final message to me (or her, rather, whomever she may be) was done in song – a cover of The Backstreet Boy’s inimitable I Want It That Way. Hearing him passionately declare his love with the elegant phrase, “You are. . . my fiiiiiiiii-yer” broke my heart and I shared that I deeply regretted not saving that message for posterity, as it was a treasure. My friend countered this with a find he discovered years ago - that being a hand-written letter from a prisoner to his lover – and one in which the gentleman penning the missive becomes increasingly more angry and suspicious of his beloved. In three short pages this man vacillates between utter devotion and venomous hatred, his emotions swinging wildly and out of control – it is MAGICAL piece of writing. It’s fantastic that he found such an amazing record of love-gone-wrong on one of his daily walks around his neighborhood – now lost to the original recipient but archived forever in the hearts and minds of strangers.
People stumble upon found jewels such as this all the time – some people are smart and generous and thoughtful and possess the foresight to save these notes, cards, tapes, etc. (while other people succumb to dipshittery and erase the only record of Sung Love they are likely to hear in their entire lifetime). Others, like the brilliant, creative people of FOUND Magazine, actually publish these gems for the public to enjoy. My friend Jenna recently introduced me to the wonder that is FOUND Magazine and now I am addicted to it – I even submitted my own find, an original painting (with confusing notes on the back – see photo, right.) that blew into my front yard last week. And there’s something else. One of the founder’s of FOUND, Peter Rothbart (of Poem Adept), is a musician. Sometimes when they get a really, really good find, Peter Rothbart writes a song using the actual words and themes from the source material. If your interest has not yet been piqued to check out FOUND, then I would like to introduce you to an enduring, musical ode of adoration for one woman’s unrivaled back-fanny: The Booty Don’t Stop. If you don’t watch it, you will be sorry.
I highly recommend checking out their site, hard copies of books and magazines are also available!