'Matter of Laugh or Death,' a humor column

By Bill Dunn

Interesting observations on this thing we call life

(appearing each week in the Republican-American newspaper, Waterbury, CT)

LOVE NOTES FROM THE FANS

A lot of fan mail has poured in commenting on recent columns. Instead of quoting excerpts from many different letters and emails, I’ll just summarize the general sentiment of these love notes, with a few parenthetical observations interspersed therein. (Such as this parenthetical observation: what in the heck does “parenthetical observations interspersed therein” actually mean? Don’t be goin’ Ivy League on us, fella.)

Most of the fan mail begins something like this:

“Dear Jerk-head: What’s your problem, anyway?”

(Well, my main problem, as my financial advisor Morty told me last week, is that my personal pension program is severely under-funded. But I don’t think that’s what you meant.)

“Who do you think you are, anyway?”

(Um, last time I checked it was Bill Dunn. But next month it might be Bruce Willis.)

“All you do is make fun of people every week in your stupid column. In just the last few weeks you made fun of figure skating, downhill skiing, and cheerleading. If you think those activities are so easy, I’d like to see you try them!”

(I didn’t say those activities were easy in my stupid column, I just said they were, well, stupid. And I didn’t make fun of downhill skiing, I made fun of one particular downhill skier, Bode Miller, who decided it would be more interesting to try and win a gold medal right after chugging a case of Budweiser. He finished 94th in a field of 92 skiers—two Ski Patrol guys also beat him. By the way, why is it whenever I comment on something, people immediately say they’d like to see me try it? This is especially true when I comment on funerals.)

“My friend Darlene thinks you’re kinda funny, but I think you’re a stupid bonehead, anyway.”

(I thought I was a jerk-head. Anyway.)

“If you don’t have anything nice to say about people, then don’t say anything at all! I’m living proof that it’s always better to be nice to people than to be mean to them, you stupid boneheaded four-eyed, jerk-head, weasel Red Sox fan!”

(Yes, I see your point. I’m sure that particular approach to life is the source of your serenity and peace. But you see, if I don’t make fun of people, er, I mean, if I don’t try to make some lighthearted humorous observations about people, then I won’t be able to meet my 600-word quota per column, and then the newspaper won’t mail me a check, which is how I currently fund my personal pension program. Hmm, that may explain why Morty is concerned.)

“The worst thing you ever wrote was last week, when you insulted Jesus! You’re going to straight to Hell, Mr. Jerk-head!”

(I didn’t insult Jesus, or at least I don’t think so. I was trying to make fun of all the people who claim that the images of Jesus and/or Mary appear to them on everyday items such as potato chips, sheet metal, and grilled cheese sandwiches. Of course, I made my point by claiming that Jesus appeared to me on the frost of my car windshield, so maybe it WAS kind of sacrilegious. But let’s hope this only costs me, say, an extra month or two in Purgatory.)

“All I can say is I’m never going to read your stupid column again! And if you make fun of anybody in next week’s column I’m going to call the editors!”

(If you refuse to read my column, how will you know— Oh, never mind.)

“Anyway, you’d better knock it off, Mister. Signed, a Fan.”

(Thanks for your support. Anyway.)

©2006