All the FAQs from Mr. Eha's Place, First Edition
(revised and updated as of July 1, 2006)

These questions (edited for the sake of brevity) were gleaned from the voluminous number of queries I received from readers of the first edition of Mr. Eha's Place. Questions I received while publishing the second edition are answered in the numerous other FAQ pages listed on the Table of Contents. If your question did not appear in the original FAQ or does not appear in the second edition FAQs, please do not be offended. I may get to it in due course unless it is much too personal, silly, or complicated. The answers given here in the first edition FAQ are pretty much the same as they were when first published many years ago, but I may have improved my grammar here and there, added something I forgot the first time around, or included (in parentheses and in red) some recent information or development since the time I first wrote the response.

QUESTION: Will we ever see a recent picture of you at “Mr. EHA’s Place”? If so, when?
ANSWER: You have seen such a picture. The photo of me which appears here and there in this site was taken in the summer of 1997 at the stock ranch of a dear friend in Montana. I was 77 then--not bad for 77, eh? Dapper, even, some say.  As you can see, I don’t believe in letting oneself go. I have an even more recent photo of myself pouring coffee for Mrs. Underdunk, but I think that the stock ranch photo captures my essence. As you can see, I am a well-adjusted, attractive gentleman, not the ornery crank some have made me out to be. Why, I believe I could be on the cover of Modern Maturity! (As you know by now, that dear friend is now a former dear friend--Herb Garble.)

QUESTION: Why would Freddy and Mr. Brooks have wanted to ruin your life? Aren’t you just a little bit paranoid?
ANSWER: Freddy, Mr. Brooks, and the rest of that coterie were jealous of my many entrepreneurial successes following my return from the War. With just a high school diploma, a great deal of native intelligence, and limitless self-confidence, I was doing quite well for myself. (By the way, Freddy never even graduated from high school. He went just to play football, and when he was suspended from the team for unsportsmanlike conduct, he quit school.) Now and then I got the better of Freddy in a business deal, which sparked his always-smoldering mean-spiritedness into flame. He also knew it was I who spread stories about his gambling and his stealing from his own family. With his forceful personality, he was able to gather his cronies into a vengeful, venomous conspiracy dedicated to my complete ruination. Is that paranoia? I hardly think so.

QUESTION: Whom did you visit on your recent trip to Montana with Mrs. Underdunk? (Note: I had mentioned this jaunt at the Freddy-the-pig mailing list.)
ANSWER: First of all, my hat’s off to you for using whom instead of who. However, this is a good example of a question which is much too personal, and I must decline to answer. Other examples include: when (or if) Mrs. Underdunk and I will get married, whether I was probed by the Martians, and what medications I am currently taking. Please avoid such questions. (Well, I guess the way things worked out, this is no longer a private, personal matter--I always visited Herb in Montana.)

QUESTION: I don’t think you’re Mr. Eha at all. I think you’re one of those Friends of Freddy and that this page is just a spoof. Right?
ANSWER: This is a good example of a question which is much too silly! I am exactly who I say I am: Edward Henry Anderson, b. October 31, 1920, in Centerboro Memorial Hospital. You can check the hospital and Oteseraga County official records if you don’t believe me.

QUESTION: Are you a deconstructionist by any chance?
ANSWER: This is a good example of a question which is much too complicated! I looked up “deconstructionist” to see if I might be one, but evidently I am not smart enough to figure out if I am or not, even after struggling mightily with several paragraphs of some of the most dense and repellent prose I have ever read—much worse than legalese or art criticism even! So I still don’t know if I am a deconstructionist or not. Perhaps you should ask an intellectual. (Does anyone out there know if I'm a deconstructionist? Is it a bad thing? It sounds like it might be.)

QUESTION: Would you send me your autograph?
ANSWER: First of all, I do not sign autographs! Second, why would you even want my autograph? Third, you should always use the magic word “please” when you ask for something, not that that will get you my autograph anyway. And to answer the yet unasked question as to why I do not give my autograph, it’s because I am a modest, unassuming man who does not wish to be regarded as any kind of celebrity (or possibly to have his handwriting analyzed).

QUESTION: Do you have any children? Any brothers or sisters?
ANSWER: This question borders on the too personal, but I see no harm in telling you that I have no natural children. I believe that my exposure to large doses of radiation while assisting on the flying saucer project made it quite improbable that I ever would. However, I was so moved by a church mission appeal once that I adopted all the children of a village in India, I think it was. Or perhaps Bangladesh? That was when I had much more money than I have now. I have no brothers or sisters. I do have a cousin, Dougal (Yes, Dougal, not Douglas) Anderson, who was (thank goodness!) a very successful and well-respected lawyer in Centerboro.

QUESTION: Did the Martians ever take you for a visit to Mars?
ANSWER: I believe so. There is a period of approximately two weeks in 1955 that I cannot account for. It was a most peculiar situation. It seemed as though I suddenly “came to” in the Busy Bee one mid-afternoon in early June of that year. I did not have a stitch of clothes on and my beard was quite heavy—about two weeks' worth of not shaving. I felt weak and disoriented. When I tried to speak to the horrified customers and salesgirls, my words were slurred and my gestures rather spastic. They threw a blanket around me and called the sheriff. My cousin (see above) bailed me out and convinced Judge Willey that I had been suffering from the effects of my old head injury and could not be held responsible for my actions. Well, that was the official story, and I couldn’t show my face in Centerboro for a while again. My theory is much more plausible. I had become friendly with the Martians and had pitched them the idea of my buying up some property on Mars to be developed as a tourist attraction. They said it was a buyer’s market on Mars, and I could get vast tracts of attractive land for peanuts, literally. To us, peanuts are just a lowly snack food, but Martians metabolize peanuts in such a way that they are instantly addicted! Well, I bought a ton of peanuts in the shell from a wholesaler in Georgia, and the Martians, the peanuts, and I were on our way to Mars. The next thing I knew, there I was in the Busy Bee! I believe I had been taken advantage of. They used me to get a huge supply of peanuts for themselves gratis. Perhaps they have become the equivalent of a drug cartel on Mars, importing peanuts through willing human dupes on Earth. Thank whatever powers there may be that they were at least decent enough to return me to Earth (minus my memories and clothes) on what I believe is one of their regular visits. I believe the government may be involved in all this, trading peanuts for advanced technology from Mars. I say this because my receipt for the peanuts I bought in 1955 was one of the items I believe was confiscated by the government along with my pictures of the flying saucer and the Martians. Someday I hope to recover my memories of those two weeks and sell my story to TV or the movies. (Since I wrote this answer, I have been abducted by Martians a second time. The facts are elsewhere on this site.)

QUESTION: What would you say to Freddy if you had the chance?
ANSWER: (Expletives deleted)—that’s what I’d say.

QUESTION: If you could be any animal you wanted, what would you be?
ANSWER: Now that’s a fascinating question. I think perhaps a sleek and graceful Mustela nigripes.

QUESTION: Would you consider playing the accordion at my wedding reception? I can pay up to $200.
ANSWER:  This question is a bit too specific for this FAQ, but to put a stop to any more such requests, I must decline your offer (and all others of its kind). I am an amateur, and although I play competently, I must admit I do not always play up to professional standards. Also, you should know that the accordion ought to be considered a serious instrument, like a French horn or a bassoon, and therefore not likely to be featured as a solo instrument at a wedding reception for much less than $500.

QUESTION:  How long is a piece of string?
ANSWER:  I do not appreciate crank e-mail and silly questions like this one. I have received a large number of similar questions from different e-mail addresses; however, I know they are all coming from the same person with way too much time on his hands. I am going to block all mail from those domains, so don’t even bother sending me your asinine questions anymore. You know who you are! (I will admit, though, that I was a bit intrigued by the zen-like quality of the above question. My answer is: About this long.)

QUESTION:  Is Herb Garble, your old pal and Army buddy, still alive?
ANSWER: How would I know? I haven’t seen Herb in many, many years. I have no idea where he’d be even if he were alive. What makes you think I know anything about Herb? (Well, you know the story by now. And if you don't, go to the table of contents and find it.)

QUESTION: Which five people from any place or any time would you invite to dinner?
ANSWER: This is a hard one. Well, the inventor of the accordion, for one. I don’t know who it was, but I have some technical questions I’d like to ask him. I’d invite former President Jimmy Carter, because I believe he may know something about a Martian-U.S. government peanut connection. I would certainly invite the very talented and underappreciated actress Jayne Mansfield. I will always remember her lovely violin solo on the Ed Sullivan Show. And Lot from the Bible. I would like to get the particulars of the destruction of Sodom, as I believe there is clear evidence that it was the result of a nuclear explosion of extraterrestrial origin, and I would like to clear this up. Finally, I would have to include someone who could keep the conversation moving along in a lively fashion—either Oscar Wilde or Jonathan Winters. (On second thought, and no offense to Oscar or Jonathan, I think for the fifth guest I'd like to invite either Madeline Bean or Elmira Camphor, both of whom were just chockablock with fascinating travel and adventure stories.)

QUESTION: You really write these questions yourself and then answer them, don’t you?
ANSWER: No, I don't.

QUESTION: Do you have any pets?
ANSWER: I have a large, thriving colony of Sea-Monkeys® which I started in 1963. You can buy a starter kit right in toy stores now, I hear, instead of ordering from a comic book or magazine. My colony now requires a 60-gallon aquarium and a great deal of my time. (During all the hoopla surrounding my abduction earlier this year, my colony was given to the Centerboro High School Science Department who neglected it and allowed all my little monkeys to perish. I hereby remove the CHS Science Department from my will.)

QUESTION: Are you aware that there is no scientific proof that there’s life on Mars? And even if there were intelligent life on Mars, how come we don’t pick up their radio and TV signals here on Earth?
ANSWER: Part One: Of course I’m aware that the scientists say there is no scientific proof of life on Mars. They have such overly rigid standards of proof! Besides, not one of them was in Centerboro to see actual Martians in the mid-50s. As far as I understand it, the Martians live deep below the now-inhospitable surface of their world, although a handful of hermit-like religious Martians live spartan existences in caves along ancient, dried-up river beds waiting for the re-emergence of their Supreme Crustaceanoid from its centuries-long state of aestivation. Part Two: Martians do not use radios. They employ some sort of biocomputer-enhanced telepathy instead which we are incapable of detecting except in special circumstances. As far as TV, the Martians do not produce and broadcast any shows of their own. They abandoned TV centuries ago when it threatened to rot the cultural, spiritual, and physical underpinnings of their society. Instead, they receive our broadcasts, alien enough to them to pose no such threat. They are particularly amused by our nightly local and national news programs, which they regard as clownish and grotesque satiric comedy.

QUESTION: Will you ever show up at a Friends of Freddy convention?
ANSWER: You haven’t been paying attention, have you? No, I won’t. I am not about to be put in a position where I might be tempted to be unpleasant, shall we say. However, I am thinking of asking them if I might send some of my Mr. Eha’s Place Deluxe T-Shirts ® on consignment (@$40.00, which I don’t think is too much for such a high-quality item) to their next gathering as well as a small collection (one shoebox filled to capacity) of peanut shells actually shucked by Martians in 1955. I could be persuaded to part with this highly desirable collectible for, say, around $1000 or so.

QUESTION: You’re a very interesting man. Do you plan to do a public lecture tour ever?
ANSWER: Possibly. I have been contacted by several UFO-related organizations and am in the process of negotiating my speaker’s fee and the rental fee for my T-shirt display table. I have also been asked to speak at this year’s (1998) Centerboro High School commencement ceremony owing to, I believe, the popularity of my Web site among the Centerboro cognoscenti. If you know of any (paying) club, association, or organization which would like to engage my services, please have them contact me. Here is a list of my current topics, although I can tailor my talks to your group’s interests (within the limits of my expertise).

  1. “Strategic Real Estate Investing for the 21st Century and Beyond” (embellished with charts, maps, and graphs)
  2. “Is Martian Land Speculation for You? Practicalities, Possibilities, and Pitfalls”
  3. “The Accordion: A Study of an Underappreciated Instrument” (lecture and recital)
  4. “A Short History of Minor-League Baseball in Upstate New York”
  5. “The Foibles of Frederick Bean: A Case Study in Depravity” (with a slide presentation)
  6. “Cooking the Dixon Diner Way” (lecture and demonstration. I will perform in supermarkets.)
  7. “Across the Solar System with Mr. Eha” (a guided meditation and visualization experience)
  8. “What, Me Delusional?” (with a slide presentation and accordion recital)
  9. “My Dinner with Ollie Groper” (a two-hour dramatic monologue)
  10. “Centerboro Confidential” (a hidden-camera, multimedia presentation)

QUESTION: How can I get in touch with the Martians?
ANSWER:  Well, the short answer is that you don’t get in touch with them; they get in touch with you. Here’s something you might try, though, to tune in their telepathic emanations. Arrange eight boxes of aluminum foil (approximately 600 square feet) into a large rectangle in your backyard. You can reuse the foil several times if you’re careful. Lie in the center of this “receiver” facing Mars when it’s at its closest. (Check Sky and Telescope magazine for times.) You may pick up the faint messages which Martians direct at receptive humans now and then. By the way, I speak from experience when I say don’t let your neighbors see you doing this.

QUESTION: (Received from numerous readers). I’m very interested in purchasing the box of Martian peanut shells, but $1000 seems a bit high. Is this a firm price?
ANSWER: Well, I am not greedy. Therefore I have applied a formula (known only to myself) to adjust my initial asking price to a more affordable and reasonable level which is a firm price. No other adjustments will be made, and the box of peanut shells (with a certificate of authenticity) will go to the first person who is willing to shell out $782.99 plus shipping and handling. (NB: My inventory of Mr. Eha’s Place Deluxe T-Shirts ® is down to zero because of demand. I am creating a new design and will let you know when the next batch of shirts will be available.) (The peanuts are still available at the same low price. The new T-Shirt is still in development and not yet available.)

QUESTION: What is your theory about the famous “Face on Mars”?
ANSWER:  I assume you’re referring to the feature resembling a human face in the Cydonia region of Mars. I don’t have a theory—I know what it is. Here is the best-known of the images of the "face" and its immediate surroundings on Mars and my 100% factual interpretation based on my telepathic communications with the Martians.

A Mr. Eha's Place Exclusive

This image was transmitted to the Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena, California, by the Viking 1 Orbiter about 25 years ago. The main reason for the whole Viking program, which included landings on Mars, was to figure out whether there is life on Mars. Intelligent people have correctly ignored the scientific explanations of what you see on the image—explanations which discount the idea that these features on the Martian terrain could be artifacts created by Martians. So-called scientists pooh-pooh The Truth™, citing “lack of data,” and “...[low] probability that the features are anything other than natural in origin,” and frost and wind and running water erosion and Mars quakes in the ancient past. Hah! Nonsense! It is quite obvious to the meanest intelligence among us that the image shows a number of artifacts created by an alien race! And, through information I discovered by tuning in telepathic seepage among the Martians who visited Centerboro, I can inform you with 100% certainty that the area covered by the image includes only part of a recently exposed Martian junkyard. This exposure occurred in 1955 during particularly windy weather on Mars. Now, refer to the image as I explain what is actually there. Let’s start with The Face as a reference point. That’s just what it is—a giant human face, and mostly buried in sand just below it is the torso upon which it once perched. You can clearly see the neck and part of the shoulder. Directly below the torso are three objects which appear to be boulders. That’s what they are. Below them in the lower righthand corner of the image is a partially buried circular object . That’s part of an old airlock door and has nothing to do with the heads, faces, etc. It’s just junk. Scan over to the left of the torso and boulders, and you’ll see a larger head. A look to the left of that head reveals a sharply-defined, concave, disk-like object. That is a Martian multi-frequency receiver--an MFR through which they receive our TV broadcasts. It is cleverly disguised as an impact crater and is one of many such receivers spread over the entire surface of the planet, and its presence here is purely coincidental.  Down and to the left is a pyramid-like structure. At one time human civilization was all the rage on Mars. This fad reached its zenith many, many centuries ago and manifested itself in the Martians’ learning various Earth languages (Hittite and Babylonian were quite popular), adopting human behaviors (like posturing, drinking and eating toxic substances until stupefied, and taking themselves very seriously), and importing various human artifacts and specimens for both private and public collections. The jumble of sculpted figures in the Viking image were once part of a exhibit in an ancient Martian theme park. When the human civilization fad passed, as all fads do, this exhibit along with most other human-related stuff wound up in their rubbish dumps, just like hula-hoops and platform shoes did here. The Martians are completely unconcerned that we possess this and other such images of this particular dump site. They know that most people will be swayed by our scientists into seeing "natural formations," not artifacts. But, as the Great Crustaceanoid is my witness, you’ve heard The Truth™ here!

QUESTION: Can I drop in for a visit sometime if I ever pass through Centerboro? Would I need to write ahead of time?
ANSWER: Well, I don’t encourage visits because I value my privacy. However, if you wouldn’t mind paying an entrance fee of, say, $75.00, I might be persuaded to open my doors to you for fifteen minutes or so. For an additional $25.00 you could take a look at the flying saucer project remnants in my toolshed. For another $25.00 I could show you my scrapbooks and Sea Monkeys ®. For $250.00 more I could take you on a short guided tour of the following places: the former location of the Bean farm (now a middle-income housing development), the field where Boomschmidt used to pitch his circus tents (now the parking lot of the big-name chain discount store where I work part-time), the former Dixon’s Diner (now a vacant firetrap), and your choice of any other two places you’d like to see (within 2 miles of my house). If you want to do all of the above, I could accommodate you for the special price of $337.50 (10% off). If you drive, I’ll make it $325.00. All this would be, of course, on a strictly cash basis. No personal checks or credit cards. Now, I know that I may come across as money-grubbing, but I have no pension and just a measly income from so-called Social Security and my dinky job, and I would like to be able to keep up my house and wardrobe, do a little traveling out West now and then, and take Mrs. Underdunk out in style. Besides, even though I’m going to be, what, 78 this year, the entrepreneurial spirit still burns bright within me. E-mail me (use the Send Mail link on the Table of Contents) at least a month in advance of your visit, and I’ll get back to you. (Since the Sea Monkeys ® are gone, I can knock another $10 off.)

QUESTION: What do you know about the Horribles? Whom or what did Brooks base these guys on?
ANSWER:  Ah, yes, the Horribles. I know everything about the Horribles. So does everyone in Centerboro, even those born long after the demise of that band of beastly little savages. Their heyday passed years and years ago, but their memory is an unpleasant, ineradicable stain in the Centerboro chronicles. Originally the Horribles were nothing more than a number of neighborhood children from over on Elm Street (where my uncle Alexander lived). They would gather for sandlot baseball games, twilight hide-’n-seek, corn and potato roasts, explorations of the shadowy depths of the Big Woods, jaunts to the Bean farm for a dip in the duck pond with their friend Jinx....harmless kid stuff like that. Well, these kids gradually came under the influence of young Frederick during their visits to the farm. Before long, it was cow-tipping, cutting clotheslines, soaping windows, stinkbombs in the Busy Bee, prank phone calls, crude language in public...obnoxious, yes, but not terribly malicious behavior. Over a period of four or five more years, they graduated to seriously delinquent conduct. There were gang fights involving knives and zip guns with tough kids from Tushville and Plutarch Mills. The Horribles dabbled in burglary and serious vandalism (They once tipped over my toolshed!) Everyone knew what the Horribles were up to, but it was very hard to pin anything on them. It was common to be walking down Main Street minding one’s own business and suddenly find oneself rudely accosted and menaced by the hulking teenaged monsters. Around election time, Sheriff Higgins finally deputized a number of citizens who began patrolling the streets of Centerboro—with baseball bats. A few cracked skulls and reform school sentences later, and that was it for the Horribles. Their brief, but thoroughly disagreeable reign was over and peace and quiet returned to Centerboro—at least until Freddy reached his prime. Jinx was never really a part of the Horribles. He was a nice boy and disengaged himself from them when they started to go bad. Freddy never really ran with the Horribles either. He may have instigated some of their shenanigans, but they were small potatoes to him.

QUESTION: I’m going to try to communicate with Martians using your aluminum foil idea, but when exactly is Mars going to be in the best position?
ANSWER: You should do your own homework if you’re really that interested. But in the spirit of fostering interplanetary understanding, I’ll just tell you. I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait a while. The next Martian opposition (closest distance to Earth) will be on 4/24/99, when Mars will be only 53 million miles away.

A number of questions have been asked only once, so they don’t really belong in a FAQ. However, I don’t wish to disappoint anyone. Therefore, because the answers clearly suggest the questions, and to save space where I house this page, I am going to simply list the answers. And because this is an “all ages” page, I am not posting answers to certain questions. Here you are...

  • Red is my favorite color.
  • Just my tonsils out while in the Army
  • You can't beat sardines, saltines, and a cold beer.
  • Sure, the College of Hard Knocks
  • Red Skelton's paintings
  • The Pauli Exclusion Principle, I believe
  • The War of the Worlds
  • Six feet, one inch; 185 pounds; blue
  • My blazer is a Land's End wool blend.
  • Titanic? Haven’t seen it. Never plan to.
  • I’m left-handed.
  • No, no tattoos and no piercings
  • Mrs. U’s age is none of your beeswax.
  • No, we should not have dropped The Bomb.
  • Sea-Monkeys® make the best pets, although dogs have their good points, too.
  • Martians worship a "Supreme Crustaceanoid."
  • I suppose there wouldn’t be a sound.
  • Lulu lived to be 15.
  • I was awarded the purple heart for shrapnel in my backside.
  • I think Superman would win any fight.
  • I’d return the wallet with all the money in it.
  • I don’t know who has the best french fries.
  • The flying monkeys more so than the witch.
  • Yes, you should marry for love if you can.
  • My best is "Volare!"
  • A diversified portfolio is certainly the way to go.
  • Any store brand cereal without raisins
  • The punchline is: “Quit while you’re a head.”
  • Black with no sugar.
  • The saucer had an automatic transmission of some sort.
  • Burial under a magnificent headstone, the cost of which is being offset by the sale of advertising space on it.


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