Dear Robin / Dear Mom,

First I want to start off by thanking the Guggenheim Fund and the Guggenheim Fellowship. Then I want to thank Grandma and Grandma and Grandpa and Grandpa. Yadoo and Breadloaf too. I'd like to thank Dad. And I'd like to thank the entire city of New Orleans: Max and the Martians, at the top of that list, their song "Fever Dreamer" specifically. Hey Mom, hold on for a second... Dear Dad, I didn't mean to go right to Mom, and sound like a momma's boy. And Dad, I'd like to thank the MacArthur Genius Grant. I'd also like to thank God, and my brother William. Thank you, William. Dear William, this part of the letter is addressed to you, are you listening? There comes a time in everybody's life when their stories get published on the Internet, and it's no laughing matter. Dear William if this ever happens to you, you'll know bliss—everybody will send you candy. Dear Rachel, we've been married for six years, won't you please join me in saying thanks to the artwork of Ileen Kaplan, and the poetry of Joey Grantham, and the National Endowment for the Arts? No? No you won't do that? Well that's fine. Dear Grandma and Grandma, you're both dead and gone, but I hope you are with Grandpa and Grandpa if you choose to be. Finally, because I hear the horn honking and it's time to go, I'd like to thanks the Pollock Krasner Foundation, The Joan Mitchell Emergency Grant Program, The MacDowell Colony, and of course, Hearst Castle. See y'all later tonight.

Much Respect,

Bud Smith




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Read Bud Smith's story.

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