Page One

To the Editor: 

On July 4, 2002, I went to Washington D.C., to serve a “3-day Notice to Perform or Quit” on the tenants of the White House. Said tenants were not living up to their lease agreement (the U.S. Constitution) and I, as citizen cum landlord, objected to their cavalier disregard for said lease agreement. 

Gingerly, I approached the fence around the White House, expecting at any moment to have Secret Service guys pounce on me and haul me off to jail despite my faith in the First Amendment (the right to petition the Government for a redress of grievances). 

Gingerly, I scotch-taped my three-day notice to the fence. 

Nothing happened. 

I had done my civic duty - and had actually gotten away with it. Some nearby tourists even applauded. 

Happily, I turned away from the fence - thinking that perhaps there was some democracy left in the land after all. Happily, I turned to walk toward the mall where the big Fourth of July fireworks extravaganza was about to go off. At that exact point, I tripped on a piece of broken sidewalk and broke my arm. 

So. Where does the Berkeley Daily Planet fit into this melodrama? Read on: The DC emergency room said that the bone I broke didn’t need a cast. The Alta Bates emergency room said that the bone I broke didn’t need a cast. But the bone still hurt. Finally, in desperation, I wrapped a copy of the Berkeley Daily Planet around my arm (the July 7 issue to be exact) tied it up with an ACE bandage and voila, got instant relief. 

So, thank you for your help. And thank you also for having just exactly the right size and shape hometown newspaper to fit safely and snugly between my elbow and wrist. 

Jane Stillwater 

Berkeley