On Sunday morning, I was awakened at 3:00am by a ringing phone.
“Who in the hell is calling me this early in the morning?!”, I mumbled.
I grabbed my EVO, looked at the screen, and noticed that the call was coming from “Unknown Location”. Confused, I pressed the answer button, and screamed “Who is it?!!”
“Is this Seattle Rex?”, asked the caller.
“Yeah, who the hell is this?”, I replied.
“Rex, this is Emmett Watson”, came the answer.
I thought for a moment … Emmett Watson … Emmett Watson … Emmett Watson … I only knew one.
“Emmett Watson? The writer Emmett Watson?”, I asked the caller, “Aren’t you dead?”
“The one and only.”, Emmet replied, “It’s a common misconception that I am dead, but the fact of the matter is, Rex, that I am alive and well.
You see, ten years ago, I faked an aneurysm. I did this to get out of the public eye, and to get away from the BMW-driving bastards that had infested my beloved city. Now, I live in a secret hideout, 70 miles west of Forks. I reside here with my two best friends, Kurt Cobain and Tupac Shakur, a couple of fellows who also faked their deaths to get away from the pressures of public life.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear that you’re alive and well, Emmett. I’m a bit of a fan. Why are you calling me, though?”, I asked.
“Rex, I need you!”, he continued, “When I came here to live with Kurt and my nigga Tupe, I naturally assumed that a new president and CEO would be appointed to the organizations that I created, Lesser Seattle and the KBO. This hasn’t happened, though. Instead, the dickless wonders in local Seattle media have gotten on their hands and knees, and have relentlessly kissed the fuzzy beanbags of The Bastards. Did you see that whole tunnel debacle?”
“Yes, I saw it, Emmett, and I was as disappointed as you clearly are, but … where do I factor into all of this, Emmett?”, I asked.
“Well, Rex, as founder of both groups, I am hereby appointing you President and CEO of both Lesser Seattle and Keep The Bastards Out. Can you handle it?”, he replied.
“Gee, Emmett, I don’t know, I answered, “I mean, why me? I’m a transplant too. I was born in Washington DC.”
“First of all, in ten long years, no one else has been willing to do it.”, Emmett replied, “Also, there is a huge difference between a transplant and a Bastard. Truth be told, Rex, us born-and-bred Seattleites have always been a little hypocritical, two-faced, and fair weathered when it comes to our position on transplants.
Take, for instance, the music all the kids are listening to today … grunge. That’s what all of the youngsters are blaring from their stereos, right?
Well, Rex, Eddie Vedder is from San Diego. Matt Cameron … also from San Diego. Mike McCready … hell, he lived in San Diego too. Three fifths of Pearl Jam is from California, and the bass player is from Montana, but I’ll be damned if we don’t enthusiastically claim them all as our own!”
“I see what you m …. “, Emmett cut me off before I could reply, clearly not finished with his point.
“Kim Thayil is from Chicago. Hell, even my roommate and our most famous native son, Kurt Cobain, only lived there for two years and he wasn’t even particularly fond of Seattle. Look at the exhibits we’ve dedicated to him!
Dave Grohl is from your neck of the woods, but we love our Foo Fighters. Bill Nye our Science Guy is from your hometown too, Rex!
Our mayor is from New York! Our most notorious writer, Dan Savage is from Chicago. Howard Shultz … Brooklyn. Bill Boeing … Detroit. I could go on, but you get the point.
Face it, Rex, Seattle’s most notable and talented citizens have always been imported, and we’ve embraced them all as our very own!
And now, thanks to you, Rex, we also lay claim to the world’s greatest blogger!”
“I’m blushing, Emmett”, I replied.
“Most of our greatest talent has come from transplants, Rex, but those people aren’t bastards. They were never bastards!
Bastards are people who move here and complain about the weather. Bastards are people who come here solely for an education or a job. Bastards are people who move 15 miles from work, then start complaining about traffic. Bastards are people who buy $500,000 homes within months of moving here. Bastards are people with winter homes in Hawaii because they just can’t stand the rain (sorry Eddie). Bastards are people who would sooner slit their mother’s throat with a dull butter knife than let you into the lane in front of them. Bastards are people who are hell bent on turning the Pacific Northwest into someplace else. Hell, even lifelong residents of this place can be a bastard, Rex!
Bastards are people who take, take, take, and take some more from the Pacific Northwest while giving very little back. They are the people who have trashed what used to be the most livable city in the United States, while pandering to the interests of everyone but native Seattleites …”
“You mean like Lisa Van Cise?”, I asked.
“EXACTLY LIKE LISA VAN CISE!”, Emmett shot back.
“I see what you mean”, I replied, “but I’m going to have to give it some thought. I’ll post my decision within 48 hours.”
“That’s fine, Rex”, he responded, “I’ll be reading. But if it helps make the decision any easier, I’ll be happy to ghostwrite some content for you as time allows.”
Good old Emmett, ever the journalist.
With that, we both said our goodbyes and hung up.
Of course, I’ve been thinking it over ever since, and the decision has been difficult. I mean, don’t enough people hate me as it is? Do I really need the additional burden of running yet another company? A company that every moneyed person in the Seattle Metro Area will despise? Do I really need these people for enemies? Do I not have enough problems as it is?
Alas, I am what I am. Someone who is destined to be loathed by the masses for the rest of my natural born existence. If my fate has already been sealed, however, then why half-ass it? Had Jeffrey Dahmer eaten only the right half of his victims, instead of the whole body, would people have hated him any less?
Not only that, but when a journalist of Watson’s caliber asks me to do something, am I in any, nay ANY, position to refuse?
The answer, again, is no. No I am not in a position to refuse.
That is why yesterday, I registered the domains LesserSeattle.org, and KeepTheBastardsOut.org
Not only did I register the domains, but I also designed the new and improved Lesser Seattle’s first slogan, suitable for printing on bumper stickers, t-shirts, billboards, flags, and freeway signs.
And so it is.
Ladies and gentlemen of the great state of Washington, Lesser Seattle and the KBO are back. Back to do what needs to be done. Back to protect this great land of ours from the tireless invaders from the lower 47.
With your help, and with your support, our goal will be no different than it has been for the last 30 years.
And that goal is, to Keep The Bastards Out.