PUT-DOWN DEPARTMENT: Who or what is Stan Pantovic? Since away last summer during the Freedom Festival's polo tourn. when a rustic genius named Pantovic descended from Montreal to grace the scene with his polo skills, I have been printing his letters (the ones that are printable). Stan's idea of a practical joke is to spray paint a fly on somebody's head. His sense of humor has more than once shook the mailman around and aroused a great deal of curiosity about himself. I recently received a letter from Stan Rabinovitch (Ann Arbor coach) with this comment: Hi Tom: ...."So, the peasant slave" (alias Stan Pantovic) is keeping you in stitches with his funnies. Did you know that his dad coached me several (I won't mention how many) years ago. Quite a good coach too. About Stan though--therein lies the latent power to turn the world over. A yet undiscovered genius. We had lots of fun while swimming together"....since this is as good a biography as any, I'll proceed with M. Pantovic's works which include the following:

1. a protest from the sovereign state of Quebec over Foam-Fare pub.
2. a transcript concerning my English deficiency submitted to S. Cal.
3. an open card addressed to Thomas X in Dearborn during the Malcolm X furor.

His extremely subtle reference (in some cases) may be obscure, but the drift of it all will be clear to even the uninitiated reader. The following two communications (the latest) represent the climax of a James Bond-Fu Manchu type of correspondence that assumes I am behind some sort of plot to overthrow the world: this first was scrawled on the back of a napkin from a Greek coffee shop and included a folder from the Mormon Temple in L.A. for Gov. Romney.

Tom X:

Your insipid draft notice has somehow drawn the Canadian Government's attention to my activities. To escape I have been hiding in a Greek coffee shop. Only today I have learned that cousin Nick is not Greek, but really Cousin X (with a strong Slavic accent X sounds like a K). Now I am a prisoner in a Muslim war factory (I see your conspiratorial mind behind), and all I can do is cry for my uncle.

Hope they nail you
(like crucify, dad)

It is with great regret that the Home of Destitute Authors, Humorists and other Literary Figures of No Repute, announces the passing of brother Thomas X. Sullivan. Thomas X.S. (excuse the pun) was born in the year...(greatly adverse and catastrophic years are best quickly forgotten) in a quiet suburb of the great Metropolis of ...(Pompei too has been forgotten). At an early age his promise was great. Outstanding Freudian scholars are still unable to explain his socio-sexual tract: Populating the earth with the perfect specimen, subtitle: A Tommy in every home. After abandoning this project due to lack of energy (the previous word used has been censored) he quickly passed into his monumental study of history. Discovering the Teutons to be a superior race, he promptly bleached his locks to gold (thence the popular story "Goldylocks" which has been grossly misinterpreted), Modeling himself on his favorite historical character, as far as 20th Century laws would allow, he shed a few tears, and a few hairs as well, and there appeared upon a Startled world The Blond Nero. With great insight into the needs of the modern era, he abandoned all his previous ambitions and subjugated all his talents into his finest effort. He undertook to promulgate swimming. He created, edited, published, wrote, distributed and subscribed to Phom-Phare (Shades of Hefner, only on a vaster more panoramic scale) the Koran of swimming. In this immor(t)al periodical his "Ode to the backstroke turn" generated more discussion and excitement among the literati than any single work since the Tropic books. However, like many other great leaders in history, his mind deterio-