a young girls troubles by clara tomahawk *** this old lecher max walked into the court house and says he is a vista worker and a new york city bastard and can i type *** i said whaddye think paleface i am night school graduate of slippery elm business college but all i have is a beatup typewriter as old as you. *** max said in his finest elizabethan prose and slightly resembling richard burton after forty years of liz tailor *** hardly that my noble little redskin *** you and i comma pale-face and redskin united comma will lick the gd typewriter even if it don't have a shift key or caps or punctuation *** so fasten your brassiere comma shift to your shift comma release your girdle two notches and together we will lick the world if father connelly *** dont stick his nose in the door comma so here goes nuthin ***

the way this thing started out anne and grace said to me max why dont you get out a paper for Utah 3 dedicate it to us loyal lovers of the noble red man *** sitting bull crazy horse for instance *** who are willing to forget what they did to custer and the 7th cav *** and 96402 poor white trash *** question mark *** well my dear granny god bless her tea drinking soul sent me a sawbuck from yonkers where she is laid

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up with charley horse parenthesis which is not an Indian parenthesis mussel sprain *** so granny bless her vodka-soaked heart *** wrote me as follows *** sonny heres 20 bucks dont break the bank at monte carlo *** so loveable vista peons heres your g d newspaper as promised and may all your children have kwashiorkor. *** so we will start with my bon voyage party at the u p station in mormonville on december 5 *** carol the glorious peasant threw around my luggage like a russian weight thrower *** phoebe who is prettier than dr anderson cried crocodile tears *** donna wished i was a horse *** sue mourned for another horse and named harry *** I felt like wrong way corrigan when he landed in gallway *** i recovered slightly when my handicap boarded the train in rawlins with a rocky mountain goat and that horrible cap *** we are keeping barnes in a dungeon cell next to Jerry roback an arizona state renegade,who is almost as repulsive as his cell mate *** there are seven or ua vista slobs here *** barnes roback and i are staying in a big house with the olsons *** a middle aged married couple *** in keshena the cranes are a fine young couple who live in neopit *** twelve miles away ***in a nice cottage *** which, i will inherit with a car starting dec 22 while they take their 7 day leave *** millie can come up and take her baths and anne harris can accompany her on the harp *** am writing this in the kitchen while 35 menominee ladies are meeting in the living room cackling and laughing loudly *** so far we began weekly movie showings in 3 towns *** have a weekly radio program *** barnes took 2 bus loads nearly 100 indians to the milwaukee museum *** the group was on tv and returned with 4 blonde scalps *** he also mislaid 3 nuns who were chaperons *** they enlisted in the peace corps to-duck the draft *** note from clara to greg comma i

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ironed maxs four shirts and he gave me a hershey bar the cheap scottish barrister *** so with many thanks I remain that loveable old stinker max

*m*

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Vista News from Far & Near Editor - Max

The Southern Ute Tribal Council, Ignacio, Col. Drew a prize winning trio. As if they didn't have enough troubles, they inherited the Glorious Peasant (Carol Erickson); the one-time running mate of Marry the Horse (Sue Elders) and the Baltimore Colt (Dick Hoffman).

Dick writes that they "have found many different and challenging areas in which these people can use assistance - including education, recreation, political awareness, a newspaper and alcoholism - the biggest problem."

For the benefit of our readers, the giant brains of HASTA LA VISTA are working with Dick on the booze matter.

Dicks goes on "Our girls have a beautiful apartment with a living room, kitchen, 2 bedrooms, bath, fully furnished and immaculate. They are quite content!" I'm sleeping on a beat-up army cot in the bedroom of the B.I.A. agent. Both B.I.A.s are great but I haven't room to unpack and hope soon for a permanent place.

"Ignacio is a nice, little town - charming, in many respects and I like it very much. Chaotically, Dick."

The Flying Finn, Carol Erickson, writes "our faucets are labeled opppositely and turned on and off backwords. I'm glad I went to college because I figured this out within 2 weeks."

"Our bathroom tub doesn't drain and we haven't figured this out yet." Editorial Note - Ralph Rodgers doesn't have this trouble because he has water faucets but the nearest water is Wolf River, seven miles away. Ralph carries water in a pail on his head he looks fetching indeed, traveling through the woodland dells.

Continued editorial note-we have phoned Saul Blockman and he is flying a Culligan water expert out to Ignacio to figure out how to get the water out of Carol's tub.

Carol continues "we three have met and talked with tribal officials and department heads and have visited many of the dwellers in this strange little village. Many ideas and projects are now milling around in our heads.

Ralph Rodgers is comfortably ensconced in a trailer with toilet, shower, hot water heater, sink but no water. He is known as the Sultan of Mole Lake because, abutting his trailer, is another one housing 2 lady VISTA workers of unknown antecedents. Ralph also has two Indian lady sponsors chasing him with a butterfly net. Between showings of colored slides of African orgies, the Vista workers are really getting places in community problems.

Dave Dix - 1401 North Angus, Robinson, Ill. Writes that he wishes us all good luck. It is possible that Dave might help direct the Indian Pageant at Menominee Country Open House later in May.

Ron Fritz-Box 503 Shiprock, N.M. is till helping our the Lord with his chores but isn't getting much help from Gregarious Greg Bader, the Flushing Outcast. Greg's address is Huerfano Trading Post, Bloomfield, N.M. Where he is probably by now selling wooden nutmegs and broken beer glass

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to the noble redman.

Greg says "Bill Brooks and I are up to A holes (Ed. Note-he probably means arm holes) in snow. We haven't seen an Indian yet. The roads here 4 lane cowpaths and I'd like to see Paw and Maw Kettle driving on them. If you thing the Ute reservations was the sticks, you can drive 60 miles here and all you see is a hungry buzzard. Enough about my sad plight, have a merry-Greg"

Bill Brooks, address same as Gregs, wishes everybody a cool Yule.

Joan Reidy, one the original N.Y.B.s wishes everyone the best from Box 244, Cass Lake, Minn. As does Ann Ferguson, same address.

Ann writes "The C.A.P. wants us under the wing. Joan is working juvenile delinquents and doing well at it." Ed. Note-This is certainly to be expected because Joan narrowly escaped being one herself. She was valedictorian of her class at the Queens Finishing School for Gunmolla and a post commander of the Hollis Huskies, the scourge of Long Island.

"As for little me, I am just a poor, wee geologist tutoring and doing medical social work." Ed. Note-Ann means she is working on VD, prostitution, abortions and multiple pregnancies.

"There are 12 VISTAs here." Ed. Note-one VISTA to every Indian. "Tina Hudson and Barbara Dunlap are here, same address as ours for a while. Best of luck to all Vistas-Ann."

Big Chief Osceolo has two prize winners in Nancy Emminger and Marcia Coletti. You may recall Colette, she was a blonde with black eyebrows the size of a dog bisquit. Nancy will be recalled as the authority on Animism and it's Cultural Significance to the plains Indian.

Anyhow, when Chief Billy wins back Miami Beach of the Seminoles he is going to give the Roney-Plaza to VISTA as an old-age form for VISTA works with tired blood and this editor is reserving the first rocking chair on the sun decks. The addresses of the 2 colleens is Box 4172, West Hollywoood, Fla. C/o Chief Billy's Rainbow Shirt Co.

God help us, what happened to Crownpoint, New Mexico should happen to Kruschev! This poor settlement was just getting adjusted to WASP culture when they dumped a load of assorted VISTA vultures, headed by Milly Kaeling, the Louisville Slugger, Phoebe Reeves, the Quaker Anthropologist, etc. Milly writes "We have a two bedroom apartment, modern kitchen (she means with sink), dining area (toilet seat?) and a nice living room (she means a chair)."

"All twelve of us stayed in Farmington for orientation. We were on T.V. When we left Farmington, we went to Gallup for a few days off. Dana, Cheryl, Phoebe and I did a half hour radio show. Phoebe and I did a little pub crawling Gallup observing alcoholism at a close range."

Phoebe, the loveable young marijuana addict writes "Everything is going along fine. Millie is behaving herself quite well. We let her out of her straightjacket in the daytime and she acts almost human."

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"The only single man in Crownpoint has been over twice to see her. "Ed note-Milly says 'the jerk comes to see Phoebe'.

The latest from Millie is a postcard which she says on her way home for Xmas. In case anyone is moronic enough to write that crowd of half-assed, cast-off rebels, their address is simply Crownpoint, N.M. The postmaster, the sheriff, the vice-squad and the town dogs all know them well.

End of Max

Note-We are sending a copy of HASTA LA VISTA to all whose address we have. We will hold stencils until February 1 if anyone wants additional copies. Cost is 10 cents each, you cheap jugheads. Cable address HASTA LA VISTA - Keshena Wisc.

From Joe Simington, we learn of a trek cross Washington that is surpassed in hardship only by the Mormon journey to Salt Lake. Besides, the Mormons had God and the sea gulls on their side. Joe had nothing going for him but the Division of Volunteer Support and $3,462,981.48 in Federal Funds. He could have done much better with 3 sea gulls, or event a few pigeons. Here are some the historic details.

Following an hour layover in Boise, he had a 5 hour wait in the Spokane airport. After another 1 1/2 hours he was told to meet his sponsors at an uptown bar. From there to his residence, all was relatively simple. All he did was ride in a car that had a top speed of 20, which also required periodic beatings on the carburetor (the beatings being a normal process in getting the car to function). Halfway home at 1AM, the car took a dislike to the beatings and went on a permanent sitdown strike. About this time, a friendly neighborhood policeman happened to come along, and nearly arrested them, for reasons which are not yet clear. After a ride to a nearby bar, our weary travelers got a ride with someone else, who liked to use both sides of the road, for reasons that may be found at any bar.

I have no ideas when Joe finally reached home, of if he every got there at all, but these are the only facts that have reached our ears. Anyway, Joe says he "slept good."

Joe's first job was to get his sponsors car out of a gully. It seems that the car smelled a beating coming, so during the night down a hill. Aside from these minor difficulties, Joe tells that he is beginning to like his assignment. When he recovers fully (in about 2 months) he may even enjoy himself. As yet, he has no car-but it is most likely hiding in some ditch.

The adults of the area are building new homes, drilling wells, etc. Joe is planning a youth club, a newsletter, scouting, recreation, medical problems, cattle raising, AA, and a few other things. He also admits to doing a little dreaming. His address is Box Cusick, Washington 99119.

Donna Loomis writes that she misses the Barnes Taxi Service. BTS misses her company too. She recently went on a three hour walk and got nowhere. May I suggest that she was probably making large circles, a problem easily

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cured by 142 Geological Survey maps, a compass, canteen, back pack and dog-sled? She could also end her difficulties by watching TV.

Donna says that she is moving to a Trading Post soon. I have $23 worth of slightly used trinkets (used only once) that I will gladly trade for her. I hear that these trinkets bought a nice island some time ago. I will even throw in a retired dentist, if he will promise to stay in Arizona long enough for me to get to Tasmania.

Her letter included no mention of Kathy. May I suggest that she has probably put on her Indian suit (or was it her birthday suit) and became an enrolled member of the Cheyenne? With a month she could get 1 anthropologist and 3 VISTA volunteers to study her culture and reduce her poverty. The new anthropology texts should soon bear a remarkable resemblance to the histories of ancient Greece. Donna and Kathy get their mail at P.O. Box 217 Farmington, New Mexico.

From the Denners, we learn practically nothing, except that Mike still won't let Sue talk, even in a letter. He says things are fine-I wonder if Sue agrees. He promises to write as soon as he throws off the effects of 6 consecutive VISTA parties in his motel room. Box 247, Lame Deer, Montana.

I would like to request that everyone write to Bill Brooks (Huerfano Trading Post, Bloomfield, New Mexico) as much as possible. It seems that he was parachuted into an area populated by nothing but cactus plants and water lilies. Since he will soon get cabin fever, it is our duty and obligation to keep him occupied in answering our mail.

So far, he has taken to reading Kafka and the Book of Mormon. As Christians, we must to all in our power to prevent the spread of heresy. Bill has also invented a new game, called sheepcrunch, which is gauranteed to produce instant soup. It is played with 1 old car, preferably the only one for 102 miles; 1 VISTA volunteer with 15 minutes to go 20 miles, preferably to get an extension cord for his electric razor; and 69,428 sheep, preferably without the owner present.

The object of the game is to hit as many sheep as possible before totaling the tribal car. The winner gets 3 barrels of mutton stew and the loser all the repair bills. At this writing, Greg Bader (the doctor's favorite dummy) holds the current record with 13 sheep in a half hour. However VWs do not have to sheepcrunch capacity of American autos. Bill Brooks has also taken up photography. His first role of pictures includes a study of the inside a lens cap, a Najavo nudist colony, and a wilted cactus. Since then, Eastman stock has dropped 2 1/4 points daily.

Some of the less fortunate volunteers will, of course, remember this joke. But since it is the only one I know, and in the hope that there are at least two people who have not heard it before, I repeat it here.

At a picnic, a young lady named Anna had the misfortune to seat herself on a large anthill, with the expect result. Her brother, George, after leaving her at the hospital, desired to inform her parents of the situation. However, he had only enough money with him (high doctor bills) to send a six word telegram. After careful consideration and profuse headscratching, he wrote:

About 10 seconds before we gave out the call to "roll the Presses" for this scandal sheet, a letter zipped in by special delivery carrier pigeon from Harry (W)recher, Harry boasted "I feel like a pioneer. I'm writing this letter by oil lamp light...Paul Berube and I are sharing a 16X20 foot log cabin with running water, outside potty and no electricity."

By now, he continued, we should have electricity, as Paul is wiring the cabin. I maintain that by now, Paul, has been treated at the local USPHSS clinic at least 4 times for electric shock. Someone should inform him that is not always good policy to connect the ground wire to the faucet.

Harry says that he has repaired their furniture, is washing all the dishes, and even does some of the cooking. He admits to doing this in order to clear his conscience for all the dishes he left for Max to do at the U&O. You may write to this Latter Day Lewis and Clark at Box 247, Lame Deer, Montana. You might even include a cookbook, and a do it yourself wiring manual.

K.B. Das ist alles. Er dumbkopf wnitenmachinen ist kaput.