yeah, you know, son of sam.

i dropped an ice cube into a cup of hot tea this morning. as i watched it crack there was a moment where i wondered if the little cube felt any pain.

throughout the 90s and into the beginning part of this century my uncle andy had a christian radio talk show on nyc's WMCA 570. it aired from 2pm-4pm monday through friday.

one sunny, summer afternoon i went to visit aunt kay. i arrived around 2 and uncle andy's show was on. she listened to her husband every day. i sat at the kitchen counter as she made us lunch. as we listened to uncle andy and had our own little conversation my eyes started to wander to the stack of mail sitting to my right. a plain, white envelope rested on top with the address type-written. the return address field read:

David Berkowitz
c/o Sullivan Correctional Facility....

it was addressed to my uncle andy.

lb: aunt kay?
ak: yeah?
lb: this envelope says that it's from david berkowitz...
ak: mm-hmm. you know. son of sam.
lb: yeah. i know who he is. why is uncle andy getting mail from him.
ak: oh, your uncle andy's had him on his show a couple of times. he's born again, you know.
lb: oh, no, i didn't know that.
ak: it's a really nice letter. do you want to read it?
lb: kinda.
ak: you know, your uncle andy got a lot of shit for having him on the show. but i don't know what people are so upset about. it's not like he's going anywhere.
lb: yeah. i guess not.