Shark fin soup (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
I had this bright idea to try to send a letter to every restaurant in the U.S. that serves shark fin soup. So far I’m half way through Massachusetts with a few scattered throughout the South and West.
While a restaurant manager will probably just toss a single, random but polite request in the garbage, if I enlist my student army to help me, maybe we can start making an impact. I imagine truckloads of letters being delivered into steaming kitchens all over the map. Letters are becoming rare things–they have a material weight that e-mails with their digital ephemerality (is that a word?) lack.
Perhaps this accounts for the lack of drudgery I feel stuffing envelopes, buying stamps, depositing messages into the dark unknown of the mailbox.
To access Sharksavers’ resources for restaurant letter writing, click here.
Check out this video of the Sept. 1 Action Against SeaWorld
Meet SeaWorld Demonstrators!
Driving down to the Seaworld, I stopped just south of the weird double-breasted San Onofre nuke plant to take in an ocean view. As I pulled into the rest area, I saw what looked like the Partridge Family’s multi-colored bus dominating the tiny beachside lot. Unlike the Partridge’s squeaky clean pattern, each of this bus’s colored squares contained a crazy religious messages:
WHO HAS NOT MOLESTED THEIR SELF PRIVATELY? DON’T LIE TOO.
RICH PEOPLE HIDE THEIR SINS JUST LIKE HOBOS
The prophet/ driver soon appeared at the driver’s side window, shirtless under his overalls and sporting a long, slightly stained white beard. He thrust a Ritz cracker box toward me.
“Donations fer picture-takin!”
I threw a dollar in. “Thanks Precious!” he exclaimed, withdrawing into his mobile temple. I have to admit, it’s been a long time since anyone called me “precious” and perhaps the subsequent warmth I felt wasn’t simply the blinding California sun.