CURSOR HOME PAGE   POSTED FEBRUARY 25, 2000-- EDITOR’S NOTE: We can’t beat around the bush any longer: Budd Rugg is missing. In early November our dealings with Rugg became even more difficult and perplexing than usual. It was clear that he was becoming increasingly frustrated with the arrangement he had with Cursor, and it was almost impossible to determine where Rugg’s personal problems –the seriousness of which we must now admit we may have been guilty of underestimating—left off and his professional frustrations –if they may be called such—began. Be that as it may, we were unable to keep him on any kind of a reasonable publication schedule. He blanched at any and all editorial suggestions, refused reasonable requests, and made increasingly ridiculous demands (when he was under the weather in October he insisted that we make an appointment for him –at our expense—with either WCCO’s Dr. Michael Breen or StarTribune columnist Dr. Mark DePaolis; when this proved impossible he was furious). It is always difficult to sort out the melodrama from the reality when dealing with Rugg, and he was becoming increasingly petulant in his dealings with Cursor. A strict accounting of Rugg’s irrational behavior in the last six months would fill a good-sized notebook. On November 6th of last year we received a telephone call from a local dentist’s office informing us that Budd –posing as an official Cursor representative—had attempted to "purchase" Pat Kessler’s dental records.  A few days later we were stunned to receive a bill from a private
detective who claimed that Rugg had contracted him to provide the address of Jerry
Zgoda’s home and a map of the property. Since Labor Day we had been pressing Budd to finalize his much-anticipated Mr. And Miss Sizzle Beach titles (his proposed annual coronation of the hottest and most fascinating local media celebrities of the year), as he had promised repeatedly to do since early in the summer. He eventually submitted a list of apparent finalists for the awards –well over a hundred names, including dozens of people we had never heard of (interns, apparently, Minnesota Daily reporters, obscure disc jockeys) and individuals no longer employed in the Twin Cities (Matt Baylow) or completely outside of Budd’s normal purview (Dayton’s pianist/cash cow Lorie Line)—and vowed to announce his winners by Christmas. Proposed deadlines came and went and we heard nothing more from Rugg. For six months we had played along as Budd claimed to be shopping his column to other media outlets; he was always purportedly "negotiating" with someone, engaged in talks and meetings. First we heard that he was having discussions with Pulse, then Mpls/St. Paul magazine, and eventually even Minnesota Parent and something called the Sun Sailor were said to be in the running. Nothing we heard from other sources indicated that there was any truth to Rugg’s claims, and we felt certain that if we waited him out he would eventually return to the Cursor fold. Throughout December our phone messages to Rugg went unanswered, and then, shortly before Christmas, we were alarmed to discover that his phone service had been disconnected. Within days of this discovery we received a large envelope postmarked from Omaha, Nebraska. The envelope bore no return address and included no explanation, but its contents were unmistakably the handiwork of Budd Rugg; there was a heavily high-lighted clipping of Zgoda’s astonishing piece from the StarTribune chronicling his unseemly obsession with Elton John. Among other clippings was the unforgettable profile –bearing the duel bylines of the StarTribune’s pop culture Woodward and Bernstein, Suzie Hopper and Neil Justin—of former Twin Cities television furniture Asha Blake, who is now co-hosting a program in New York with Florence Henderson. Just the sort of thing, we realized, that would make Rugg sick with envy: a major daily newspaper committing all the resources at its disposal to dispatch two crackerjack reporters to the Big Apple to bring home the big story. This, we realized, was a dig at Cursor, and it smarted; we have long regretted that financial constraints prohibited us from providing Budd with the funds necessary for him to compete for stories with the big players in town. The We were worried, frankly. In a year of mysterious
and disturbing absences (C.J., Tommy Mischke, and Willard Woods, to name just a few),
Budd’s disappearing act hit closer to home. Under the best of circumstances we are
always reluctant to engage Budd’s mother –Mrs. Rugg is a dear woman, but
difficult; suffice it to say that our limited encounters with her have made it abundantly
clear that the apple did not fall far from the tree. She has After initial discussions we have asked this
gentleman, a Mr. Claude Peck (no relation, we are assuming, to the StarTrib Anyone with information about Budd Rugg is asked to e-mail Cursor, or contact the local authorities. Reports that Rugg was recently seen outside of Chino Latino, after being denied admittance to a private party hosted by KSTP's morning meteorologist, Jim Guy, proved to be false. Finally, if we are lucky enough to hear from Budd, we would like to pass along your support in convincing him to return to the Twin Cities. Please feel free to e-mail him, with any words of encouragement for a safe and speedy return. Next: Mr. Claude Peck reports on how the media exacerbated Budd Rugg's personal problems. |
Omaha package was chock full of curiosities, many of
them inexplicable but virtually all very much in line with Budd’s obsessions. There
was a photograph of KARE 11 news director Tom Linder, crudely doctored to include a giant
prosthetic phallus. There were several apparent Spice Girl paper dolls, dressed in Riot
Girl clothing that appeared to have been clipped from the pages of Sassy magazine,
with photographs of Robyne Robinson, Laura Billings, Marla Matthews, and Julie Nelson
pasted over the faces. Also included was a paper-clipped sheaf of clippings, photographs,
and drawings all bearing the neat label "File: James Lileks": a crayon portrait
of a silver sports car; photographs of a video store on Lyndale Avenue and a Girard Avenue street sign;
an old issue of Grit stuffed with ‘Back 
Fence’ clippings; various
computer game reviews sporting Lileks’ byline, and a batch of random Star Trek
related material. The package also included a reminder of happier times: a photo of Budd
in his Barbara Carlson costume at the annual Cursor Halloween party.
always cast something of a cold eye
on Budd’s relationship with Cursor, and we have received some memorable phone
messages from her over the last several years. Regardless, the situation being what it was
we dug up Mrs. Rugg’s number and gave her a call. She was clearly and understandably
distraught and gave us quite an earful; in no uncertain terms she made it clear that she
held Cursor wholly responsible for her son’s disappearance. She had no idea
where Budd might be, and had heard nothing from him since before Christmas. We did manage
to eventually convince her of our genuine concern, and she gave us the name and phone
number of a family friend who was said to be working to pinpoint Budd’s whereabouts.
une employee
of the same name), to assemble for Cursor a brief account of his relationship with
Budd as well as an update on what he has managed to learn about his disappearance, with
the hope that it can shed some light on who Budd Rugg really is, where he has come from,
and what has become of him. We are fully cooperating with Mr. Peck in his search for Budd,
and have promised his mother that we will do everything in our power to assure his safe
return. In the meantime we like to imagine that Budd may be out there somewhere, reading
these words on some public library computer terminal. If that is the case, we want you to
know that we miss you, Budd. Your mother is worried sick. We are fully prepared, on a
moment’s notice, to wire you a one-way Greyhound bus ticket to the Twin Cities from
anywhere in the United States, no questions asked.