----Dave:----

Hi Jan and Doug -

I just got the news -- you've joined the 20th century! Of course, we're now in the 21st, but what the hey! Who knows what might be in store for you next? A fax machine, cordless phone, microwave oven...

Well, your timing is good, since we'll need to stay in touch with you as the plans for BAMPANANARAMA II begin to unfold...

Love, Big Dave

----Mike:----

Thanks for copying me on this. Hopefully the people at the USPS in Cincinnati won't find out Janet has defected until the pension kicks in.

----Dave:----

I think that Janet probably took advantage of the new Postal Service regulations that finally allow their employees to have email addresses as long as they purchase twelve rolls of First Class postage stamps and sign an affidavit swearing that they won't bring their assault weapons to work more than eight times in the next 18 months.

----Mike:----

What plans are "brewing" for BAMPANANARAMA II?

----Dave:----

There will definitely be some brewing done for BAMPANANARAMA II. Well, even tho Randy put the onus on me, as the oldest cousin (Hah! -- what a chauvinist!), to organize the extravaganza, Joe and Micky have stepped up to the plate and volunteered to host the affair, which will be this summer sometime (the tenth anniversary, after all), after the ice is off their new pool in Goshen. Joe thought it would be fun to have it the same weekend as the annual Goshen hot air balloon festival, but he didn't know what weekend that is yet. Anyway, it's in the works -- I'll try to keep the ball rolling. Any input?

----Mike:----

Question for you: Is our Grandfather's nickname spelled "B-a-m-p-a" or "B-o-m-p-a"? I always thought it was "Bompa." Seems like "Bampa" would ryhme with "Tampa." Somewhere I may have a postcard with his actual signature, or something Nana signed for both of them. In the meantime, I'm ccing Martha for her opinion, and of course, will defer to your Aunt Jane if we can't settle this controversy ourselves.

----Dave:----

This issue was raised at the *last* BAMPANANARAMA ten years ago, and was never resolved to everyone's satisfaction, at least that I can recall. My position is that, since "Bampa" is derived from "Grampa", its spelling oughta be similar. But I don't think I made up the spelling -- I think I'd seen it written that way, as you suggest, in things that Bampa and/or Nana wrote. Also, BAMPANANARAMA is a "word" that contains six vowels, and is much cooler if all six are As. But most importantly, WE'RE THE ONES WHO HAD THE GODDAMN SHIRTS MADE!

----Mike:----

I'd copy Janet as well, but for your safety (and Vivian's) I don't think we want Janet, or any of her co-workers, finding out about your "assault weapons" crack.

----Dave:----

Yeah, thanks, how insensitive of me. But I'll tell ya, *my* postman scares the bejesus outta me!

----Mike:----

PS: I thought Martha was "the oldest Cousin." Has Randy finally disowned her for her spate of "dubyah" jokes?

----Dave:----

Perhaps, but I think it has more to do with my "chauvinist" crack -- I'm the oldest *male* cousin.

I just searched and found the dates for the balloon festival in Goshen -- it's June 22-24. I was thinking of attending the national Alfa Romeo club convention in Nashville that weekend, but I don't have to. Haven't talked with Joe and Micky about dates yet, but should soon. What's good and bad for you?

----Mike:----

And I really liked those tee shirts. Mine still looked good even after I used a whole bottle of White-Out changing that "A" to an "O" Of course I never washed the damn thing so I didn't have to worry about it smearing or clogging up my washing machine. By the way, when your Dad used to smoke his pipe, did he "tamp" his tobacco, or did he "tomp" it? When Busy was in her wheel chair and she could no longer "romp," did she use a "ramp" instead of steps? Does Janet (and Little Dave) sell "stamps" or "stomps?" If I win a golf tournament am I the "chompion?" O.K., O.K., I'll stop. I know nobody likes a smart ass.

June 22-24 won't work for me. I have golf comps (oops, I mean camps) during the last two weeks in June. We're all also planning to go to Janet's during the first week in July.

Well, Dave I gotta go. I'd write more but my hands are starting to cromp. And, Felecia just called and said one of our lomps shorted out. Must be because the house is so domp.

----Dave:----

OK, here are your choices: BAMPANANARAMA or BOMPONONOROMO -- take your pick.

In truth, when the chips are down, I will happily defer to your Mom's judgement in the matter, as long as you promise to simply ask the question and not attempt to sway her. Deal?

----Mike:----

You're really hung up on that *all the vowels have to be the same* aren't you?

----Dave:----

Hey, just because "Moraghan" starts with an O and all the rest are As, that don't mean BAMPANANARAMA has to too, ya know.

I know -- I'll get half BAMPANANARAMA and half BOMPANANARAMA and let everybody choose.

And where's your sister been through all of this? Pretending she's not at home? Maybe we should make *her* decide -- after all, she's the ol -- oh, never mind...

----Marth:----

First of all, guys: I AM THE ELDEST COUSIN, no matter what Uncle Randy says. Secondly, Michael Terence-with-one-R, Harriet Benson Welton's nickname, coined my THE ELDEST COUSIN, was spelled Bizzie not Busy. (She apparently used to amuse Baby Martha Jane by making a buzzing bee sound while circling her index finger in front of my face.)

----Dave:----

Exactly right! That right there should have cast doubt on Mike's assertions re Bampa. (I have to admit, tho, that I can't think of a single other word wherein "amp" sounds like "omp". OTOH, if one imagines a sophisticated British accent doing the talking, perhaps my dad *did* tomp his pipe and Mike's house *is* too domp. Not that I think that's how Bampa got to be called Bompa.)

----Marth:----

As for the spelling of Bompa/Bampa, I think Dave's right, that the pronounciation certainly was B-o-m-p-a, but I think he and/or Nana wrote it as Bampa. I may have some old cards or letters squirreled away and will check. Of course, Mom/Aunt Jane is the Final Authority.

----Mike:----

O.K., O.K., O.K, this endless bickering is getting us nowhere. I've read Justice Jablow's opinion, which I suggest you do as well (if you're not too busy downloading Napster's entire library before its too late) and while she obviously concedes that BOMPA is pronounced "Bahmpa," she also seems to have some vague, nebulous recollection that it may have been spelled with the "a." I suppose if we can at least agree on the pronunciation there is no need to bring in a hand writing expert to show that Nana's "o's" had a low outbound dip and therefore looked very much like "a's" when she in fact, intended "o's." I seem to recall one letter in which Nana wrote: "I'm grawing same lavely rases. Bampa is gaing aut ta maw, and Jahn and Jae are picking carn. Lave, Nana"

----Dave:----

I think that we may have stumbled upon the ultimate compromise: Let's go with BAHMPANANARAMA! Whaddaya say?

----Mike:----

Obviously, had I been around during BIZZIE'S time, I would have known the correct spelling. But I am one of the YOUNGER cousins. As to the pronunciation, I seem to remember that George Assard spoke with a "sophisticated British accent," but since you and Martha are A LOT older than me, maybe you can recall more clearly. If we do have to ask Mom/Aunt Jane, I think someone entirely neutral and trustworthy, like Cara, should do the asking. If Martha asks, they'll just end up arguing, and obviously you don't trust me enough if you think I might "attempt to sway her." Mike

PS: I know! It wasn't George Assard! It was Auntie Bea and Uncle Bill Atwood - they began speaking that way right after they bought their first Cadillac!

----Dave:----

(Assuming that you won't particularly like my BAHMPANANARAMA suggestion, then:) Despite the fact that Cara comes from the Moraghan side of the clan, I agree, and accept Cara as a neutral, trustworthy, and unbiased moderator. Let's turn her loose!

Time for a homebrew -

----Mike:----

You're right. I don't particularly like your suggestion. The H looks out of place and seems to interupt the flow of all those A's you love so much. As for your implied reservations in accepting Cara as moderator - "the fact that she comes from the Moraghan side," I would be willing to add a second individual to the negotiating team from "your side." Obviously Johnny and Joe have been under your influence (or under THE INFLUENCE) far too long to be trusted, but I would agree to have Ethan join Cara in this pursuit of the truth (provided of course, that Ethan can find time in the schedule Micky has planned for him for the next 16 years).

Oh yeah, I almost forgot. I dug around in some old letters last night, and while I didn't find anything from Nana or BOMPA, I did find a letter from Aunt Millie. It was a little hard to follow and her hand writing wasn't real clear, but she did refer to her brother-in-law as "Bompa" (with an "o")...of course, she also referred to him a little later in the letter as "Davumpkin" and then a third time as "Motorcycle" so in truth, I don't think I can say this evidence is conclusive. She concluded the letter by saying "Yaur Uncle Lester is Bizzie painting mushraams" - whatever that means.

----Marth:----

Dear Dave and Mike-

Enough, already.

Your emails had me in stitches. This funny, fast and furious correspondence through cyberspace reminded me of your pink-gelatin-pie-in-the-face escapade. Imagine pink pies flying along the Information Superhighway between Charlottesville and Dedham!

----Mike:----

Yes! The Pink Pie Virus!

----Dave:----

I could almost taste it. Then again, I can still taste that abomination every time my nose runs or my eyes water.

----Mike:----

You mean you haven't washed your face since 1980? Yuuck!

----Marth:----

Anyway, back to the serious stuff. I really did find some old letters last night and have Xeroxed portions for you both to examine (or take to a board-certified handwriting expert.) Except for one, I increased their size 115% so you could get a clearer look -- I hope. You'll just have to wait for Snail Mail (apologies to my sister and cousin Dave of VA). I dropped the evidence in the mailbox this afternoon. (So, for now Cara and Ethan can wait to ask JPM for the Final Word.)

----Dave:----

Mike, you're gonna have to trust your sister not to have added little tails to all the O's. I'm gonna have to trust her not to have erased them. Ooooooo -- it just occurred to me that, since she's her grandfather's granddaughter, she probably sent Mike letters with tails and me letters without...

----Mike:----

Millie, I mean Dave, you're delusional. Martha would never tamper with these, or any documents. She's the anti-Nixon, remember?

----Marth:----

No, I'm not giving you any interpretation as to O or A in our grandfather's nickname. You'll just have to wait. It builds character, right?

----Dave:----

Character, schmaracter -- I'm gonna buy you a scanner.

----Mike:----

I'm with ya here, cousin. Hey, doesn't Janet own a scanner?

----Marth:----

Have another home brew, Davie (that's how Nana spelled it). And Happy Birthday, Mike, on your 46th and Nana's 107th on Monday. Love, Marth

----Dave:----

Dear cousins -

Well, I was prepared to parry on relentlessly, in the name of wisdom and truth, but THE ELDEST COUSIN has called a truce, and I am nothing if not respectful to THE ELDEST COUSIN, so I will honor this armistice and refrain from further debate.

On pins and needles -

----Mike:----

O.K., I agree as well. We'll have a moratorium until the postman rings (Dave, I suggest you ask Vi to pick up the mail next week. I know you're eager to see Martha's evidence, but I'm concerned in your zealousness something might...well, anyway, why don't you just let Vi get the mail.

----Mike:----

Marth, Thanks for the birthday wishes, and for digging through the archives. Hopefully Dave's eyesight has not gone the way of his hair, and he'll finally agree to call an O an O. I have to tell you however, I'm a little concerned about your decision to mail your findings. With all due respect to Janet and Little Dave, the USPS is really unreliable, and Big Dave is frightened to death of his postman. Remember he said the guy "scares the bejesus" out of him. I'm envisioning a horrible scenario - Dave pacing back and forth in his driveway, grinding his right fist into his left palm, mutterring BAMPANANARAMA over and over again like some twisted Nicholsonesque character. Finally when the postman arrives, Dave snatches your letter from the narled fingers of the demented public servant, and then...well, you can just imagine what horrific chain of events could follow.

----Dave:----

[Sigh.]

Here I was, completely at peace with the idea of waiting patiently for the US Mail to deliver Martha's proof, confident in the knowledge of what it contained and in the righteousness of my cause. I'd finally gotten a good night's sleep. But no -- I wake up this morning, check my email, and find that you've poured petrol on the fire, fanned the flames with a blanket, let the sparks fly and the cinders fall where they may.

Well, alright then. Let's pull off the gloves.

----Mike:----

Hopefully Dave's eyesight has not gone the way of his hair, and he'll finally agree to call an O an O.

----Dave:----

Now if that ain't the pot calling the kettle black, o ye of color-free hair since puberty.

And what's with this name Moraghan anyhow? Everyone, Irish or not, knows that Monaghan is pronounced MON-uh-han, so why shouldn't Moraghan be pronounced MOR-uh-han? (Hmmm -- maybe it *was* pronounced MOR-uh-han until Grandpa Dave [so-called until this issue is resolved] met Marty and decided to pronounce it *his* way.)

BTW, Vi has a lot of relatives in the Mathes family -- Althea's maiden name was Mathes. It's really pretty funny -- half of Vi's cousins pronounce it MATS and the other half pronounce it MATH-iss (as in Johnny). Vi's uncle and his two sons differ!

----Mike:----

Soooo, why don't you just fax me a copy (yeah, that's the ticket) of the letters, and then I'll fax them on to Dave....

----Dave:----

Um, *do* you have a fax machine, Marth? Dare we suggest...

----Marth:----

I don't have a fax (or a scanner -- though I do know what a flatbed is). You two will just have to wait for your postmen to slog through the white stuff. We know that Janet and Cousin Dave of VA aren't wimps who sit home in a blizzard, so we'll have to trust the the Dedham and Charlottesville postal people come through snow, sleet, and whatever else....

And, by the way, Mike -- in reference to a comment you made about 38 e-mails ago, you WERE around when Bizzie was alive. Apparently you don't remember the first four years and ten months of your life? There's even a picture to prove it around somewhere -- you and Janet standing on either side of Bizzie.

Now let's just wait til the postman always rings twice....

----Mike:----

By the way, I like to think that since I started practicing a British accent, I'm much more sophisticated than in my brawling, Irish, pie-throwing days...but I swear, if those tee-shirts have all "a's," no dessert is safe.

----Dave:----

One thing's for sure, Mike -- YOUR tee-shirt won't.

This just occurred to me: I've always had a special place in my heart for my cousin Martha. I've chalked it up to the fact that she's the only cousin older than me and I always looked up to her. But now it's become clear what the real reason is: it's all those lovely A's in her name...

Guess I wasn't all that bellicose after all -

----Mike:----

First of all, I apologize for the wise-crack about your extremely long forehead. But I'm running out of time to use my favorite bald jokes as my silvery locks are, alas, beginning to thin (Hey, Marth, did you know if Big Dave and Little Dave put their heads together they'd make an ass out of themselves?).

----Dave:----

(Some apology.) Well, you're right -- it does take the two of us to make an ass out of ourselves. My hat's off to you though, as you're often able to accomplish the same thing quite handily all by your lonesome.

----Mike:----

It is an interesting fact of history that the Irish, while flexible as to pronunciation, are fastidious practitioners of proper spelling. The English, for all their bombast and pretense as higher intelletuals, clearly take correct spelling less seriously. So it is not surprising that the early English settlers of Connecticut, many named Pratt and Welton, were often confused as to how to spell even the simpliest five-letter names.

----Dave:----

It is abundantly clear that Michael Terence Moraghan, fastidious Irish practitioner of proper spelling, is indeed the simpliest of intelletuals (to use his spelling of each, for which he will undoubtedly lay the blame on his Anglican ancestry).

----Mike:----

I would accept that until we see Martha's evidence we agree to refer to BOMPA by a name on which we all agree. That name should be GRAMPA DAVE not "Grandpa Dave" as you say he shall be "so-called until this issue is resolved." What are you thinking? Nobody ever called him GRAND PA Dave! He wasn't GRAND PA! He was GRAMPA! (when he wasn't being called Bomp or Bompa that is) And don't try telling me "Grandpa" is pronounced "Grampa." GRAMPS doesn't spell his name G-R-A-N-D-P-S does he?

----Dave:----

I don't know -- you tell me, Mr. Fastidious. Whatever you choose, I will graciously acquiesce to whatever spelling of Grandpa tickles your fancy. As long as you promise to spell Bampa correctly once the truth be known.

----Mike:----

Finally, your attempt to flatter Martha by complimenting her on all her lovely A's is pathetic. Like I told you before, she's the anti-Nixon, she can't be bought.

----Dave:----

Yeah, well, I was hoping that, since things can apparently be bought even from Democratic Presidents in the last couple of hours of office, she might have changed her tune a little and succumbed to a little schmoozing. But I guess the letters were already in the mail anyway, so it probably made no difference.

----Mike:----

PS: I DO have a fax machine, and it never snows in Virginia, so when the mail comes I'll fax you the results and then you can send out the recall notices for those erroneous 10 year old shirts (can you say "Oscar Robertson?").

----Dave:----

Ascar Rabartsan.

----Marth:----

While you're both waiting for the mailperson, I had a thought (only one) --

One of the documents you are about to receive is a Xerox of a card signed by our grandparents. I believe it is in Nana's hand because the letter written on the inside of the card is from her. Nonetheless, it is signed

Love, B...mpa and Nana

To prevent any outbursts, sword duels, or pie-throwing melees at the forthcoming reunion, perhaps, Davie, you could scan this document and have it reproduced on the tee shirts???

----Dave:----

Hmmm -- yeah, if it can be worked in aesthetically, I think that's a great idea! It would eliminate any queries from the one or two relatives who might question that BAMPANANARAMA is spelled correctly.

----Marth:----

Again, Mike, Happy Birthday. All day long.

----Dave:----

Yeah, Mike, even *I* hope you don't get a bone stuck in your throat.

----Marth:----

P.S. (Who's Oscar Robertson/Ascar Rabertsan ???)

----Dave:----

The "Big O" was a tremendous basketball star mainly in the '60s, top-scoring NBA guard of all time, but I'm afraid that Mike's comment went over my head too.

----Mike:----

I'm prussed fer tym. Inlike my hiely sucxesfull cuzin, eye wil bee wurkin til eym sevinty, ann evin tho itz my birfday, I got tuh wirk. Nolong messig tuday butt tuh tellya dat...

Oscar Robertson was one of the greatest basketball players in NBA history - his nickname? THE BIG "O"!!

----Dave:----

Pret-ty lame, Mike.

----Mike:----

Sunny and clear in Charlottesville...be heading home soon to check the mail...hope you guys aren't buried too deep in snow!

----Dave:----

No, not *too* deep -- just deep enough. Sheesh. I've attached a pic taken out our front window today around noon. It's still coming down and, in fact, the intensity's picked up quite a bit over the last couple of hours. What masochists New Englanders are.

----Mike:----

Also, I've forwarded our entire dialogue to Janet, and in advance of your groveling and apologizing, I've explained to her that your contempt for the Postal Service is not shared by the rest of Nana's and BOMPA's decendants.

----Dave:----

Well, I've also been compiling our dialogue (trialogue?) into a compendium for the purpose of distributing same to folks like Janet, John, Joe (but probably not to any in the VA branch) after you've conceded. Of course, out of respect, *I* was going to run it by you first to see whether you'd like any of your foul remarks edited. But I see that you've not shown me that simple courtesy, and allowed Janet to be privy to my light-hearted, well-intentioned, flippant comments about those extremely few Postal Service employees who've wandered off course. So therefore I'll forward our dialogue to John and Joe, including that vile, insensitive, disdainful, bilious statement that you made regarding Micky's overbearing child-rearing proclivities.

----Mike:----

Nice try at backpedaling on your contempt for all our fine public servants...no need to edit my statements, I stand by all that I've said (you could do me a huge favor and correct some of my mispelled words...no! wait a minute, you're trying to trick me into saying I might have mispelled BOMPA)...

Um, I'll have to check, but I don't think I said anything of the sort regarding Micky's warm, wonderful, maternal, loving, and inspirational micro-management of Ethan's life.

----Dave:----

But I gotta tell ya -- this postman of mine is a real piece of work. Always about six days' growth; long, greasy, stringy hair; schnozz a foot long; *always* a cigarette sticking out between his teeth, of which about every other one is present; makes every attempt to throw my mail as far underneath my car as he can when he shoves it through the mail slot in the garage door. I'm virtually certain that he's the one who stole my table saw a year ago -- he's the only one who knew it was there. And I tip him well at Xmas! No way am I gonna see Martha's letter for another couple of days.

----Mike:----

Until you mentioned the table saw theft, I thought you were describing Johnny. But I know he only steals from Joe.

----Dave:----

Actually, I was pretty sure that Johnny *was* the culprit -- he has one just like it that he keeps on MV and I thought that he borrowed it for a project in Medfield and "forgot" to tell me. But he claims otherwise, and whom can you trust if you can't trust your own brother? Wait, let me think about that...

One more minor point, yet so compelling, incriminating, and damning:

Our Mr. Moraghan, "fastidious practitioner of proper spelling", ends his last message as follows, and I quote precisely:

"...BOMPA's decendants."

>>> I REST MY CASE!!! <<<

----Mike:----

Thanks for pointing this out. I've noticed that not only is my color card malfunctioning, but some of the keys on my keypad either stick, or don't produce a letter when I tap them. That can be the only possible explanation for the missing "c" in "intellectuals" and the missing "s" in "descendants." When you are as fastidious as I am, this kind of technical problem is most frustrating. I'll have to proofread more carefully, but again, my main concern throughout has been the correct spelling of BOMPA (!).

----Dave:----

Pret-ty lame, Mike, pret-ty lame.

----Mike:----

Soooo, Big Dave, what's your fax number?

----Dave:----

Now, Mike, really. If you faxed me Martha's letters, and they apparently supported your bogus position, do you think for an instant that I'd be convinced that those A's were really O's? After all, we all know what an expert you are with a bottle of white-out.

Besides, you're obviously bluffing.

----Mike:----

My only concern is to expedite the process. I know you've had difficulty sleeping; the guilt you carry from circulating all those mispelled tee shirts 10 years ago has obviously been troubling you. If I'd known it was going to affect you so, I would have just kept my mouth shut and bought another bottle of white-out after B*MPANANARAMA II.

So the sooner we both know the truth the better. If you really think I've doctored the documents you can always compare them with the originals when they arrive in mid-April. Are you suddenly feeling less confident, or do you simply need more time to craft your apology?

----Dave:----

But what's the point? What am I supposed to believe in the meantime? I mean, I know damn well that you wouldn't fax me documents laced with Bampa after Bampa.

----Mike:----

You're right. Because that would mean I would have changed all those "o's" to "a's"

----Dave:----

Well, I happened to be watching out the window when the mailman pulled his mailjeep into my driveway. He made it about halfway up and then slowed and his wheels started to spin. At that point, I grabbed my coat, jumped into my boots, and ran out the door, hoping to catch the bastard before he gave up. Of course, he *could* have walked the rest of the way up to the mail slot, delivered the mail, and *then* driven off but, well, I've already described my mailman. Anyway, Marth and Mike, you've both been here and you know that it's quite a distance between my back door and the steep part of the driveway where he got stuck (unless I went straight down the hill through the snowdrifts, which I wasn't about to do). Needless to say, by the time I got to the driveway, shouting and arms waving, the mailman was already heading off down the street (grinning and puffing on his fag, no doubt).

----Mike:----

Hey, at least he didn't steal your snow shovel. And I'd be thankful you didn't catch him. Look at it from his perspective. There he is, battling the elements, wrestling against ice and wind and bone-chilling temperatures, concentrating like an 82nd Airborne infantryman bearing down on the Normandy beaches, when suddenly, out of the blinding snowstorm a madman with steam-covered and crooked glasses, dressed in pajamas only partly covered by a heavy coat, comes flying though the storm, arms waving wildly, shouting something that sounds a lot like "Bomb!..Bomb!" Any sane person would have reacted just as he did and gotten the hell out of there.

----Dave:----

By the way, I've finally resolved the pronunciation dilemma that's been plaguing us all along. It all boils down to a subtlety of our language that apparently we've all played down over the years, since it didn't see to matter: It's not Bampa -- it's Bämpa. (In case your email software doesn't display it, it's Bampa with an umlaut [them two dots] over the first 'a'.) This explains everything! In fact, I'm prepared to offer a compromise: We'll do the tee shirts as BÄMPANANARAMA (with the umlaut)! Then it'll be both spelled *and* pronounced correctly!

Whaddaya say?

----Mike:----

Hmmm. That would also be a nice way of honoring Bomp's German ancestry. But I dunno, it might be a little confusing to some of the less sophisticted family members. Then again, we could always have Ethan explain it to them. Hmmm...

No, nice try. I see what you're up to. There really is no "pronunciation dilemma" and this is just a way for you to get that "A" in there like you've always wanted. And I can hear you now, explaining to everyone how the tee shirt people messed up and left off the umlaut. No way, buddy. NEIN on the UMLAUT!

PS: Better check the "m" on your keyboard. Then again, it may not see(m) to matter.

O.K., Davie, I'm heading home to check the mail. This is your last chance to give me your fax number. I give you my solemn word, as "Jane's litle boy" (as your Dad used to call me) that I will not tamper with any of Martha's evidence, and if I am proven wrong in my assertion that BOMPA is spelled BOMPA, I will apologize profusely, and defer to you on all future interpretations of family history. Whaddaya say?

----Dave:----

Look, I've thought about this more and more, and I really think that the umlaut the ultimate solution, the perfect compromise. I think that it was just a matter of time before we *both* came up with it. As you say, it honors Bämpa's (and thus our) German ancestry. It's not at all confusing -- every grade-school dictionary has a pronunciation guide, and my old Merriam-Webster says that 'ä' is pronounced as in "bother, cot, father", certainly the exact way that Bämpa is pronounced. Bämpa was obviously originated by someone's (mine? Martha's?) attempt to pronounce Grämpa, not an arbitrarily-created nickname like Bompa. And if your objection is that I'll somehow cause the tee shirt people to mess up and leave off the umlaut, then I'll promise to let you approve the artwork before it's submitted to the tee shirt folks. And finally, I will *eat* every tee shirt that comes through without the umlaut (as long as I can put salsa on it and wash it down with homebrew).

Come on, Cousin Mike, how much must I bend? Surely the Irish and Swamp Yankee blood in your veins ought to be able to yield a reasonable compromise between pig-headedness and practicality with which we can all live. All eyes are on you. I beseech you to think carefully and do the right thing.

----Marth:----

Enough of this argument about the symbol invented by Jacob Grimm. Just go with the way Nana wrote/spelled it by scanning her cursive writing directly from the card onto the teeshirts. That will surely bring World Peace .....

----Mike:----

Write On Martha! I agree! Obviously our cousin Däve Prätt has lost all confidence in his case, and is now trying to finagle the A onto the tee shirts with diversionary tactics like "the umlaut."

----Dave:----

On the contrary, here I am, isolated from the world by a freak of nature (actually, two freaks of nature: the blizzard and the postman), not having received the letter that should have arrived on freaking Monday! Mike has surely received his by now, yet he hasn't proffered any sort of victory speech, so one must conclude that it contains evidence not to his liking, and it's *he* who's trying to salvage whatever little shred of respectability he can from his folly.

So last night I called up both John and Joe and asked them each, independently, how to spell Bampa. They both replied, "Whaddaya mean? It's B-A-M-P-A. How *else* would you spell it?". I mean, we practically *lived* with this man! It's "Bampa" that we wrote on all of our Xmas presents year after year. It's "Bampa" to whom we wrote from summer camp. It's "Bampa" that was painted on the back of his milking stool. What's going on here? I mean, he was Bampa Dave! That's who he *was*! You can't change that just because it doesn't please your sense of phonetics!

Damn, I'm hyperventilating here and...anybody know what heart palpitations are supposed to feel like? I can't stand it any longer -- I don't know whether the mailman will even attempt my driveway today. Alright, Mike, fax it to me -- 603-907-8186. (Yeah, that's a NH number -- it's a service called eFax that sends faxes to me electronically.) I can hardly wait.

----Mike:----

Dear Dave,

I appreciate that you trust me enough to provide me your fax number. And now, I feel a little guilty that I sought the number only as a means to annoy you with a fabricted document. My exchange with Martha from yesterday follows. I feel particularly embarrassed by this, as having received Martha's packet of letters late yesterday, I now know the truth, and the prank I would have foisted upon you now seems both unnecessary and a bit like rubbing salt into a wound. I send it to you now as a matter of public record, that you may add it to your compilation of our trialogue. My formal speech, composed after examining Martha's documents, will follow shortly, as will a fax of the documents I received from Martha.

Sincerely, Your cousin and friend, Mike

Marth,

I'll let you in on a little practical joke (one which I'm sure BOMP would have liked), but you must promise not to tip off Davie. I have a letter (a forgery I admit) which I plan to fax him (if he gives me his number!). I enlisted Felecia to pen the note, as it needed a feminine hand. Since you don't have a fax machine...the letter is as follows:

September 21, 1962

Dear Martha,

I hope your are enjoying Manhattanville. I know you must miss your little brother. He is the cutest and smartest little boy I've ever known. Bompa is always saying, "If only Davie had half of little Mike's talent and brilliance."

Les and Millie and Bomp and I are playing music at the Grange this weekend. Everything else here is fine.

Love,

Nana and Bompa

(Do you think he'll know its a fake?)

----Marth:----

Your composition is very funny. But no matter how you worded it, Dave wouldn't believe it. And Felecia's handwriting is much rounder than Nana's, whose was more angular. I expect that Dave won't believe even the real ones I've sent aren't doctored at this point.

----Mike:----

DOES THIS MEAN ITS REALLY AN "O" AFTER ALL?!

----Marth:----

You're reading entirely too much into this, Mike. I am not hinting either way. Just wait patiently for the mailperson!!!!

----Dave:----

Aw, don't bother with the fax, Mike -- I've had Martha's documents since Monday! I already have them scanned for the tee shirts. My formal concession speech will quickly follow your victory speech. I do reserve the right to retract my concession, however, should new evidence come to light, like if Martha doctored the docs or something, and, if this comes to pass, I hope that you won't be snippy with me.

I still can't believe it, though -- this is like being told about Santa Claus.

P.S. No, I wasn't really hyperventilating -- rolling on the floor laughing is more like it...

----Mike--The Victory Speech:----

My Fellow Pratt/Moraghans:

First let me say that without the loving support of my wife, my daughter, and all my supporters, this campaign could never have been fought, much less won. We, as Pratt/Moraghans, are a family of teachers and writers, artisans and artists, athletes and intellectuals, musicians and entertainers, engineers and educators, and dedicated public servants. We are a family that is devoted both to the grand schemes and to the minutia of daily life. We, as Pratt/Moraghans, are a family that seeks truth in all things great and small, and our love and respect for all who have come before us is what drives us to be the greatest family on the face of the earth.

But now is a time for healing, a time to end our bipartisanship, a time to right the wrongs of the past, a time to move forward, and to embrace all vowels from "a" to "u." It was never my intention to abolish all "a's" and I admire my astute adversary's affection and adoration for the letter "a." He is, by all accounts, an A+ American. He made straight A's in high school in Terryville, Connecticut, and he made straight A's in college at Worcester Polytechnic. His wife is an artist. His mother, Barbara, his grandmother, Ada, and his eldest cousin, Martha, have names filled with the letter A. He drives an Alfa, and he has been known to go long periods of time surviving strictly on ale. We have shared an argumentative arena, and now affirm ardently, to aspire to be allies, not antagonists.

I now realize my belief in the letter O is often obsessive, occasionally obnoxious, and for this I opologize. My opponents have accused me of many things - everything from mispelling the descendants of intellectuals, to accepting only dogs whose names start and end with the letter O. Yes, I named it Otto. And you know the kids love that dog and I just want to say this right now, that regardless of what they say about it, we're going to keep it.

But as much as I love the letter O, I have always appreciated the great contributions of all the vowels, and there is nothing quite like a name that contains the letter A. My wife Felecia's name ends with an A. With my daughter Sarah, my mother Jane, my sisters Jan and Martha, my father and grandfather both named Marty, my Uncle Randall and two Aunt Barbaras, my grandmother Ada and great-grandfather Ard, his brothers Arad and Abijah, and truly, all the many Daves in our family, how could I not love to see the A in any name? But the greatest name of all, the name that contains both an O and an A, is BOMPA.

It was our grandfather, David Pratt, known affectionately as Bompa, who embraced all people, who could make everyone smile and laugh, be they farmers or legislators, type A personalities or O positive blood donors. So it is most appropriate that in his name, the O and the A work together, like the index and middle finger of a hand forming the peace sign. He scoffed at the notion of renaming Big Oak Farm to Big Ark Farm because he understood the evil of segregating O's and A's. His favorite musical group was "The Torquays," and O-A words like "harmony," "apostle," "oatmeal," "avacado," "Thomaston," and "afro" rose easily from Bompa's lips.

And so we too should be guided, not by the avarice and oppression of the past, but by obligation - to teach our children and our children's children that its A-O-K to disagree, but that life's greatest ovations are given to those like Bompa, who welcome all to their breezeway. We can, and we will, make this family great once again, and the 2001 BOMPA-NANA EXTRAVAGANZA will be the greatest family reunion in history. Thank you, and may God bless Plymouth and Litchfield.

----Dave:----

Good God Almighty, Mike!

I can't possibly top your victory speech, and I'm not even gonna try! Why, you must have been working on that ever since you received Martha's documents on Monday! I think it's a super way to end the fray.