"Hiatus" or "We've Got Letters" Apologies to Letterman

Well, it’s time for another story. I know my legion of fans has been disappointed that my career has been in haitus. I apologize to my faithful readers, but remember, your subscription is still free. Even with my soaring costs, < i. e. postal increase early 1991 > your subscription is still free. That is an offer you can’t refuse.

Lately my mailbox has been deluged with many letters from my fans. I thought we would hear from some of our readers today. The first letter is from a Ms. Olga from San Francisco:

“Really enjoyed your story on McDonalds. I never worked there but my brother did. I am now a wee bit more careful before biting into my favorite McDonald’s sandwich. I look for hair, dust, roach entails and any other foreign material inside the bun before indulging. Also, our last visit to McDonald’s last Sunday confirmed the notion that black people only eat fish fillet sandwiches. A Black family of four was munching on fish fillets and orange drinks. What synchronicity! Can’t wait for the follow-up. Please more stories of this kind!"

Dear Olga, Yes, it is true that African Americans like fish fillets and orange drinks. And strawberry milkshakes-no chocolate. Probably why at H.W. that chocolate chess pie and chocolate pie were not big sellers. Back inna day they also pronounced the "t" in fillet. And blacks liked cheeseburgers-not too many indulged in plain old hamburgers. Sure these are generalities and politically correct it ain't, but it was the truth 95% of the time. And as Walter Cronkite used to lament, "And that's the way it was." Thanks, Olga. Btw, Since you hail from northern California, would you happen to lean towards the left?

A Martin Cordina, also from Northern California, wrote this past week: “Loved that story about your Aunt Mad. What a hoot. However my Aunt Matilda could give Madeline a run for her money. Aunt Mat once peed for 3 minutes and five seconds one Saturday afternoon on our way back from San Anton. I had recently been given a stop watch for Christmas, and I timed her. Coincidently, she used the expression “sqeeze my sponge.” I thought Aunt Mat was the one who coined that phrase. What gives?”

Dear Martin, Yeah, right. Aunt Mad was the real deal and coined the phrase "squeeze my sponge." Your Aunt Mat is an imposter. You will soon be hearing from my lawyer. Copyright infringement, eh? Btw, do you know an Olga who lives in the liberal city by the Bay.?

A Babe G. from Edowah Diddley also wrote this week. “Your story on the Catfish’s 1990 Christmas really pulled at my heart strings. But a grown man sitting on a whoopee cushion is a bit much. You need to grow up. And making fun of your mother-in-law, who seems like a really sweet and together individual, is indefensible. I may cancel my subscription. You're the one who's grumpy. And I don't slurp my tea."

Dear Babe: Grumpy is as grumpy does. And, yes, you do slurp your tea. And the way you eat the food on your plate-carefully manipulating each morsel into a dress rehearsal reminiscent of a Broadway play grates on my last nerve. But I still love ya.

A Ruby B from Pond Jovi writes: “You are the best writer since Hemmingway. You have a way with words that is unrivaled in this century, maybe forever. Faulkner would be envious. Lewis Grizzard, take a back seat. I think you should charge for your column. The sky’s the limit. Your work reminds me of an early Plato. Keep up the good work. Charge for your services.........”

Dear Mom, er, Ruby: Thanks for the kind words. But you forgot Twain and Shakespeare.

A Fred B., ironically from Pond Jovi, wrote also. [ not sure if he and Ruby B. are related ] “Enjoy reading your column. Sometimes I’m confused with hizzoner Mayor Fred B. of Golden Pond. Does that ever happen to you? Reallly enjoyed your story on McDonalds. I have quit eating there since reading your column. I now only eat at Whackadilly Cafeteria. Could you do an investigative piece on Whackadilly and see if it’s safe to eat there? I’ve heard that some people have found grassshoppers in their turnup greens and pieces of cardboard in their broccoli. Is this true?.......”

Dear Fred: Last year a guest found parts of a rat in a bowl of turnip greens. I report you decide, but tell me how rat parts [ tail, thigh, stomach ] and turnip greens could co-exist in one tiny bowl. And green worms have been found in the fresh broccoli. Which is better than cardboard, eh? Protein, ya know. I, personally, will never step foot in another Whackadilly Cafeteria. Whose new motto is: "Living La Dilly, Loca."

A Kitty C. wrote in these comments. “Burst at the seams reading your hilarious story about running out of gas in the middle of winter. Hilarious is the word. I can relate to that story. Having to wake the kids, who just went to sleep, just to go get a bonehead husband was a riot. Hope that story wins the Pulitzer. Can’t wait for the next one..........”

Well, fans, the story you eagerly awaited for is here. The hiatus is over. And thank you for writing my column today. And unless Ruby B. has her way, your subscription is still free.

The above story was written circa 1991 on an Apple 2 C computer. And added onto/embellished in 2006. Happy New Year. From v.c. and the clan!