Editor's Note:

If there’s one thing Napoleon Bonaparte, Julius Caesar and I have in common, it’s a fear of cats. It’s called Ailurophobia. I grew up with cats, and I’ve had a great deal of time to think about this affliction – especially in my formative years, which were spent cowering in the back of my parents’ closet. I don’t know about Napoleon or my main man Caesar, but I suspect they feared cats for the same reason I do: Cats are constantly in a state of attack. Animal kingdomly speaking, I get along quite well with furry little critters. I styled the doggie photo shoot you see on page 84. His/her (I didn’t check) name is Miso and we got along great. But cats … not so much. I have distinct memories of my cat Smokey, who had three legs, one ear, one eye and no tail. His condition was the result of a tragic Brush Hog mishap. Except for the tail thing; I did that by accident with a sliding glass door. This made Smokey especially sinister, and he/she especially hated me. But not as much as Boots. I lived on a lake as a kid, and Boots would swim out to my rowboat to attack me. I am not kidding about this. There’s a good reason people have ailurophobia. It’s because cats are after us. I lived in terror for many years, you must understand. A trip to the bathroom in the middle of the night was like running across a minefield. Cats would hide under tables and bat my feet as I tried to sneak by. I’ve only met two cats in my life that liked me, and I think they may have been lobotomized. Actually, come to think of it, they attacked me too, but just not all the time. Cats are sneaky, lurking, untrustworthy creatures. They really serve no purpose apart from providing single women support and validation that men are evil. But don’t take my word for it, just ask mankind. What are dogs called? “Man’s best friend.” Cats? “Face-gouging monsters.” Hey, it’s written. Fortunately, I’ve learned that the best defense is a good offense. And cats sense this. These days, when I enter a room, cats seem to know that my hands are tennis racquets and it’s match point. I’m just kidding, Humane Society. But for the record, they started it. Anyway, this issue is not about cats. But Senior Editor Chris Bushnell did write a hard-hitting article on pets and all the ridiculous amenities the Silicon Valley affords them, if you’re so inclined. It’s more about the dogs, though. Because, really, they deserve it more. Also in this issue, Features Editor Traci Vogel has an article (page 22) on another obsession of mine: beer. She painstakingly researched seven Silicon Valley microbreweries, going so far as to interview each Brewmaster. If you appreciate beer, this will no doubt inspire you to buy local from now on. Brew pubs are great places to hang out, relax and discuss world events. Like our big fat war, for example. Editor-at-Large Scott DeVaney’s piece on the privatization of the military (page 16) is a good place to start your discussion, in my opinion at least. Private corporations – made up predominately of ex-special forces and former Pentagon dudes – are literally getting away with murder worldwide. It’s crazy. Because they’re not government agencies, they don’t have to follow the same code of conduct as the normal tank jockey. Good old-fashioned war is a thing of the past, folks. Where’re Napoleon and Julius when you need them? Enjoy the issue, JOHN NEWLIN Editor-in-Chief john@thewavemag.com

Letters answered by the collective “we.”

And lastly, the bit about the Los Gatos Mile and the tricycle/scooter connection is a half-memory of the old Shooter Scooter Relay Race that was held on St. Patrick’s Day 29 years ago. It was started by Johnny Hannegan, myself and one of the original owners of Number One Broadway five years before C.B. Hannegan’s was opened. It was Johnny’s idea to get people to come to Los Gatos for St. Patrick’s Day instead of heading up to the City. I guess we succeeded. Head on over to C.B. Hannegan’s website ( www.cbhannegans.com) where we have a few pages on the old races. It’s another case where the truth is better than the legend.

Many thanks for the articles and for mentioning us.

Tom Ovens
C.B. Hannegan’s

Tom, great of you to write us and set the record straight. Or as straight as you can set the record. As you can imagine, in our interviews with the Los Gatos residents and old-timers, there were conflicting views on who did what and who started what and who drank what. We went, perhaps in error, with the general consensus under the “local lore has it” pretext. But your letter is really convincing, so let’s go with what you say. Also, every other person in Los Gatos claims to have invented the Chillum, so we’re going to credit you with that one, too. Thanks for the letter.

After reading The Final Last Word column in the Feb. 23 edition of

The Wave, I’m thinking of creating a Father’s Group. It will be a “fathers against groups of mothers getting together for extremist reasons.” I am still trying to get a name that has a cool acronym though.

I’m thinking, “FARMERS: Fathers Against iRrational Mother ExtRemistS.”

Sincerely,
Kenneth Smith

How about FATSO? Fathers Against The So-called Organizations. Just a thought.

I’m curious if you plan on refilling your boxes Downtown and in Campbell? I live in Campbell and work Downtown and it seems that if I don’t get to the boxes when you deliver the new issue within a day or two, they’re gone. I know you refill some boxes, but others you just leave empty … like my heart in search of your magazine. Why do you forsake me?

Tara Lee

We forsake you not, Tara Lee. But we can’t give you the information you need since you haven’t given us the exact location of the boxes of which you speak. True, we do refill many boxes that consistently empty faster than others. In fact, we’re increasing our distribution every month. All we can say is grab your copy faster. But here’s a special offer: for $9.95, you and your closest friends in the United States can have The Wave Magazine mailed directly to your home. It’s costing you money NOT subscribing. What are you waiting for? Call now! (408) 467-3200

Your Final Last Word column in Volume 5, Issue 4, was hard to read. It’s the people who write mean columns, drunk drivers and those in the White House who don’t want you to buy that ribbon or sign that petition or voice your dissent another way.

This country was founded by people who spoke up for their rights. Apparently, you don’t agree with them. I’m sorry to hear you are writing for a magazine, because you have the means to reach a lot of readers. I hope others who write for The Wave are more progressive than you seem to be.

A Disappointed Reader

Dear Disappointed Reader, thank you for the letter and sorry to disappoint you. But the column was questioning groups that march against causes that no one is for; causes for which there can only be one position, like senseless killing. Do we really need a group against senseless killing? No one’s campaigning for it.

Send your comments to editor@thewavemag.com

APOLOGIES

In our last issue, we stated that in 1931, Toni Morrison won a Nobel Prize in Literature. While Ms. Morrison’s birth in 1931 was probably poetic and award-worthy, she did not win the Nobel Prize until 1993. Oops!