A few months ago (February 15) this poster came down the line at the mothership and jumped out at me and I did the same thing then that I did yesterday when a second version came down, texting and emailing a shot of it to a select few. You know, those in-the-know. Not that Dean, that Dean.
To most people this poster doesn’t mean shit, or at the very least, it’s kinda boring. If you’re in law school at UW, perhaps it means something to you.
However, to a group of former Zen Couriers and other Seattle messengers, this poster brings up some bad feelings, some fuck-yous, a few fuck-that-guys, as well as a host of other PTSD symptoms.
In an alternate reality I would find a church basement we could use every other Tuesday night and all yall could straggle in and sit down in a circle of folding chairs and share your stories. An ad hoc former Zen Courier support group in an effort to let go of the loads and loads of shit you’ve been carrying around. Anyone else with Zen stories to tell could come by and join in. 39 would visit often.
Elliot would start the more recent story telling and 87 would have plenty to add from yesteryear. These two reacted right away to this photo, with visceral no-joke-fuck-offs. I know these two have a lot of stories to tell and a lot of hard feelings lingering from their time with Zen.
Just off the top of my head I know a few others who would join in. 33 John could talk for hours about Zen, including his road rage incident at the construction site for Benaroya Hall, his arrest, court case and judgment paying for the damage to the hood of the guy’s car he inflicted with his fists. I have no doubt he was already pissed off in a heightened Zen state before the guy in the Honda fucked with him. Just sit right back and you’ll hear a tale, like 33 repeated repeatedly into the mic dispatching at Elliott Bay one day back before his Zen days.
Brian Harris could add some stories too even though he only did a brief stint at Zen – Dean told him he needed to dress more like a “messenger” – more spandex and less button down shirts & khaki pants. Brian quit Zen after a few days and went on to become Seattle’s highest paid messenger dealing strictly in title insurance and real estate documents at Champion for a few years.
Before I was a messenger I wanted to be a messenger and I read about them and their zines in Bicycling Magazine where I learned more about Iron Lung from Seattle. I sent Iron Lung a letter and they published it and I got a couple issues in the mail and at Wright Bros and in one of those issues I read about Mr Zen courier and his bike touring travels with his wife. no joke. for real really.
Dean was always cool to me, but I never worked for him. I did however get a lot of second hand smoke over the years and that law school poster jumped out and struck a chord. A creepy off key minor chord.
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