Name a Star - an excellent gift for any occasion.™
cc: The owner of the star, Polaris (α, Ursa Minor)
C/O Joseph R. Fritz, Trustee, in the United States Bankruptcy Court for the Middle District of Florida, Tampa Division, Tampa, FL 33603-4116
Case # 065-090551
Re: Debtor, Star Conveyances and Registration International
As one of Star Conveyances and Registration International’s biggest customers, I would like to express how disappointed I was to hear that as a sole proprietorship it has filed for a Chapter 13 reorganization of its company. As you know from my previous fourteen letters, I have a lot invested in their services, notably in Ursa Minor, or the more pedestrian label, the Little Dipper, where I am just three stars short of owning the entire naked eye constellation, those stars being ŋ UMi and Ɵ UMi, and of course Polaris, or α. I have to admit that I am relying on the Bayer System of star classification, but that agrees with the apparent magnitudes for the most part, which is what counts the most, in my humble opinion, when it comes to the affairs of the heart.
I think I explained at length why I relied on the Bayer System in letter #6. The whole of Ursa Minor doesn’t come cheap, as you well know. The stars already taken had to be bought from their current owners, but where money is no object, stars can be had. I currently have offers in for the aforementioned ŋ and Ɵ, and I expect their registrees to capitulate. As you know, the owner of Polaris has chosen to remain anonymous. I was relying on you to forward my message to him or her with my generous offer for it. Now, with this bankruptcy business, I can’t be certain of even that, and your total lack of response is beginning to concern me.
Let me explain yet again. I am in love with a lovely exotic dancer, Ursula North, my “little dipper,” my “little bear.” She is the unrequited object of my affections. I know she really cares for me by how nice she is when I go to watch her on stage or when she asks me to buy her a cocktail at the bar. I have been perplexed and chagrined, however, that she has been hesitant to engage with me in any outings, dates, meals, or even discrete meetings outside of her normal night shift employment at her club. To that end, I wanted to impress her in an “astronomically” big way, as it were. Imagine her intellectual surprise were I to present, instead of dollar bills or a purchase of another set of lap dances, an entire constellation deeded to her in your registry that will be, as you promise, copyrighted in a book within the United States Patent and Trademark Office!
True, one might think it would be more impressive to present her with Ursa Major instead of Ursa Minor, but she is diminutive and might take offense at the implication. Besides, although I am a rich man, Ursa Major has just too many stars. Ursa Minor is no slouch, believe me, and any whole constellation would be impressive, especially one that spans 256 square degrees of sky! (Thank God I didn’t fall in love with Andromeda, who usually takes the stage right after Ursula.)
Ursa Minor has the North Star, Polaris, for which I have been pining for a long time to buy, to complete my gift for my love. It should be obvious that anyone with a surname, North, like my beloved Ursula North, should really have the North Star for their very own. Assuming I am successful in procuring it, I hope it is not lost on her that Polaris is a Cepheid Variable. It certainly is not lost on me that it is also called the Pole Star.
“How nice, how very nice,” I imagine her saying to me outside of the dance club after she finally relents and agrees to meet me after work.
And now, just ŋ and Ɵ short of my goal—and Polaris, of course—Star Conveyances and Registration International is no longer registering any stars! Fie on my bad luck! If Ursula North were to get her hands on a Bayer Classification catalog, you can only imagine my humiliation at falling three stars short in her eyes. Her starry eyes.
I know everyone says the stars are whimsy and not important, but you know the truth, do you not? After all, you’re “in the business.” Whimsy, indeed! As we all know, the stars all began at once in an explosion that set into motion machinations that would one day produce the loveliest heavenly body to ever rotate around a pole, my Ursula. My North Star.
Sir, I implore you to help me complete my task, my constellational manifest destiny, when the company reorganizes, if not before. Please place me first on the buyers list when the conveyances resume. I must impress my Ursula. I must have my Ursula. I know there are other fish in the sea, as my mother told me she brought my breakfast down to the basement this morning (or should I say There are other stars in the sky?), but there is only one Ursa Minor in the sky and only one Ursula North in the universe. Please make them mine. Future generations--my own--depend on it. If the stars are in foreclosure, at least allow them this legacy. My legacy.
Bubber Tant, Ursa Minor enthusiast, collector, entrepreneur, and fusion paramour.