Tuesday, June 5, 2007

Moral teachings from an Axe Murderer, Part 1

So I was reading a recent post by Lemon Gloria where she mentions that her father was joking with her about rooming with an axe murderer. And for just one minute, I thought of replying with something to the effect, of “Wow, that’s interesting, I once had an axe murderer contact me.” But then I figured that I’d have to either explain that comment, which would be a blog post in itself, or just let the comment stand, which would make me sound weirder than I already am. Thus, this blog post:

“You’re all going to hell if you continue down this path,” said the letter. Ahh, hate mail, good stuff. Being the general manager for a college radio station did have some benefits. Except this wasn’t ordinary hate mail. This was axe murderer hate mail.

I went to college in a small town. News travels fast in a small town, and tends to have a larger impact than it would in a big city. Jimbo’s tractor exploding? Ehhh, maybe a 3 on the “It’s news scale.” Double homicide with an axe? Freaking 11.

The axing took place a month before my freshman year. It was the talk of the town and the school for a few months.

Roughly three years later, I wasn’t thinking of axe murderers. I was thinking of how I narrowly pulled off being elected general manager of my school’s little student run FM radio station. I was basking in this success, I was finishing up the last of my exams, and I was preparing for the summer. First though, I needed to stop by the radio station.

I arrived at the station and went to speak with the station’s faculty advisor.

“There was some mail addressed to the radio station today. You’re the general manager now…I think you should have it,” said the faculty advisor.

“Oh yeah?” My curiosity was peaked. Normally mail wasn’t something that was important enough to point out, much less hand deliver to the GM.

I was handed an envelope that had obviously already been opened, but the contents were still intact. Before I pulled out the papers stuffed inside, I glanced at the front of the envelope. The return address: ______ County Correctional Facility. The sender: Ezekiel, formerly _____ _____. Cell #________

I was confused. “Ezekiel?”

My faculty advisor fixed me a serious glance. “Do you remember the axe murderer?”


mm said...

Did you reply? Please tell me you replied.....

The View from Dupont said...

this is just too good... we have to know what happened next!

Lisa said...

Ohh, that's creepy. Definitely more intriguing than my dad's axe murderer.