"Dear Dave, Can you tell me more about hunting wild mushrooms? What are your secrets? How do you have time with your busy schedule? Can I do it here in Costa Rica?"
Dear Rebecca, I'm glad you wrote. I only know about morels in the Rockies. I am thinking of going to California in the fall to take a class on some of the other varieties that are out there. But you should not put anything in your mouth that you aren't sure of, especially in Costa Rico and Houston. Next year look for a whole section on morels, perhaps a sister blog where I will skype and take people on real-time morel hunts with Bill Mixer serving as Master Guide.
This next letter comes from Steven Beirstat of Flatville, Indiana.
"Slap-dick, it sickens me to see you wasting your life with fungus and the like. You are probably a state employee and my tax dollars are wasted while you slap-dick around in your stupid rain jacket picking mushrooms, which are probably just drugs to get high with. You make me sick. Get a real life. PS--I hate your stupid face and your stupid visor you always wear."
Dear Steve, Thanks for the feedback. You have excellent instinct: I am a state employee. I work at the community college in Casper, Wy. These are golden and grey morels and I can assure you that they are in no way drugs. They do upset the stomach a bit, but that's all. As far as your tax dollars go, I'd like to point out that I could easily sell these morels at $45 a pound. If I do sell them you can be sure I will fill out the appropriate paperwork and pay my taxes. Thanks for being a great American. Dave