Dear Chris Sligh,

Dear Chris Sligh,
If I decide to use my anytime minutes to cast useless votes for a time wasting television program, they will be for you.
You are welcome,
Couch Potato

Dear Funk,

Dear Funk,
Funk, I wanted to offer a word of encouragement during this time of darkness. I understand that you were dealt a low blow. It may seem like you are at the end of your rope, alone in a sea of digitally sampled techno grooves and hip three minute ditties. I remember, your two best friends, R&B and Soul left you years ago for their new girlfriends Pop and Easy Listening. And now this. The death of the Godfather.
Funk, you will get through this. You will not die. You will get over this hump, and thrive in the years to come each time someone finds an LP copy of Gettin Down To It in a basement crate or spins Purple Rain on a bar Jukebox. Sure, you will show up in the chorus of a Chamillionare single and the kids won't recognise you. But its okay, because for every time that happens, someone will hear Funky Drummer for the first time, or dig out their old Parliament cassette from a box at their parent's house.
This time of year, concentrate on the gains instead of the losses, drink some Nog, and slap on Santa Clause Go Straight To the Ghetto.
Say It Loud,
A Woman or A Girl

Dear Mrs. Karhough,

Dear Mrs. Karhough,
You were a very memorable kindergarten teacher. Though not exactly Froebel in your teaching methods, a lot of little things we did in class stay with me as big memories. It occurred to me today that I may remember things incorrectly because of my five year old perception at the time I attended your classroom.
For example, skeletons tend to freak me out.(No, I'm not in a profession that requires I be in close proximity to skeletons. I'm just referring to models at school or in the chiropractor's office.) Not because they were once a person, I'm okay with that, and surprisingly, skulls are just fine with me. Its when they are on a whole skeleton that tend to make me crazy. Its because I'm always secretly waiting for them to walk or dance!
I remember vividly where this comes from. In your class on Halloween, we all dressed in our costumes and paraded around the school. Then, after all of the mommies and daddies went home, we sat in the circle to read a Halloween book, and then we got snacks. Because it was Halloween, you explained, we were going to have a special treat during snack, a cute Halloween cartoon that you loved when you were a kid!
For the next five minutes, I hardly breathed, because I was too scared. These horrible skeletons were dancing and dancing and dancing. This is all I remembered, until today. Sometimes in classrooms, during the years that followed, I would say a quick thank you to God or circumstance that I was not in said class by myself, since there was a skeleton model in it. What a horrible image in my head!
Today, I realized that I'm still afraid of the image, but I don't remember it! I thought rationally that if I could view the cartoon again, I could reclaim it, and properly store it where it belongs in my mental file cabinet: in "kindergarten cartoons," instead of "horror movies never to be seen again." My fear, however was that it was an obscure movie clip that could never be found again, especially with my limited knowledge and memory of it. It was black and white, and featured dancing skeletons.
THAT PROVED TO BE ALL I NEEDED! As it turns out, the short is actually called The Skeleton Dance, and is a 1929 Disney clip.
So I watched it. I re-filed. I'm okay now. The trauma is over.
But I'm not going to Lie, Mrs. Karhough, I had to watch it with the lights on.

Boo,
Big Kindergartener

For the Most Part, Christians are Embarrassing