The Continuing Crisis

There is a panic rising within me, and the fear chews in my lungs, languishes in the depths of my bowels. At first, I dismissed it as a childish obsession. But now the crisis has worsened, and it is definitely a very real concern.

There are more of me. I ticky-typed about this before, but it was just a link and a baffled exclamation. Now that I have cleared my senses and delved deeper, I have discovered yet another me. I know that this is not the same impostor I uncovered before, for he was in middle school in Lansing Michigan in 2007, and this new pretender seems to be under the age of 7 and lives in the greater Houston area.

I decided to be proactive. I would compose a letter, a dignified and intelligent summary of my logic; namely that there can be only one me, that I was here first, and that he should kindly begin using his middle name as his first.

This has not happened for two reasons.

The first is that, as my spouse carefully explicated, most of my eloquent pennings are actually the incoherent scrawling of a seemingly mad-person. One arriving in the mail, unsolicited and uninvited in a crumpled and sweaty envelope, may be startling or downright frightening. Especially given my passion on this topic and my tendency to get carried away and off-topic.

The second (and I admit, more concrete) reason is, due to their age, these minors cannot be easily located. My first intention was to simply look up any Rademachers in Lansing and send the letter, addressed to Noah, to any and all of them. I was surprised to discover that 30 Rademacher families hold residency there, and not only would sending thirty copies of a letter be cost-prohibitive, there is also the real possibility that several of those households are related, and upon realizing they had all received the same postal rant, the police would be dispatched to knock on my door and analyze my mental health.

Sadly, I am at a loss for what to do next. Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated.