Dear Dearborn Police Officer With the Pointy Head,

Dear Dearborn Police Officer With the Pointy Head,

Hello, and good evening to you. I would like to extend my sympathies to you for getting stuck with a pretty crappy shift. I know that working on Saturday nights is always a drag, even if you are making time and a half. I understand the seriousness of your job, and appreciate the fact that you chose the demanding career of protection .
Though I have not gone through extensive training as you have, I feel I have a valid time saving tip to offer you, and would like to submit it now if I may. If you happen to see me on the road again, you needn't follow me anymore. I don't drink and drive. Ever.
I understand your need to be cautious with each car that pulls out of questionable locations, but your fishing is in vain when I drive past. Please see sales receipt enclosed below, with my portion of the bill highlighted.

Further, following me for several miles down Monroe street was not only pointless, but unnecessary. I would have been much happier to pull over and fork over my mug shot card and registration than nervously try to "drive normal," whatever that means. I already have a very slight case of nervousness driving in the dark, due to my less than stellar vision.

To answer your unasked questions, no, I didn't really want a slurpee, and yes, I was trying to avoid you when I pulled into 7-11. I gather you figured that out, but was it really necessary to follow me into 7-11, and then watch me pour my slurpee, all while acting like you were buying a candy bar? You are an officer of the law, I'm sure you could have checked me out and saved the 98 cents.
I'm glad you realized that only a sober person could hold a huge purse, two Slurpees, a bag of Cheez-its and a SlimJim, all while wearing heels.

Keep it Real,
Designated Driver

Me

Dear Music Fans,

Dear Music Fans,
When was the last time you listened to If 6 was 9?
I suggest you rectify the situation immediately.
Thank you for your time.

Dawson's Creek

Pacey: "Well, I hope you enjoy Rochester."
Miss Jacobs: "I hope you enjoy high school."

Books!

This is an old post, but I just got tagged by V to fill it out again, so I redated it. It is also a way better feeling this time around, since last time no one really tagged me. Another reason to re-post is that I don't think anyone that I tagged (except A Good Story) completed the tag. Ta-daa:

1. One book that changed your life: Maniac McGee, by Jerry Spinelli.
It is a YA fiction about a homeless teenager and a racially divided city. It made me think about and challange ideas that I held for no reason. ~Like, Wait a second..why can't white and black people get married again? Hold on, you mean, not all parents are good people? Are you telling me that sometimes people who used to be rich an famous can end up with nothing to eat? There are people who have nothing to eat?! ~ It also taught me how to LOVE reading and showed me what a book should be like.

2. One book that you’ve read more than once: Catcher in the Rye, J.D. Salinger
I have probably read it about 40 times. A close second is The Giver, Lois Lowery.

3. One book you’d want on a desert island:
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. I think the only way I would ever have time to figure out Joyce is if I were on a desert island.

4. One book that made you laugh:
High Fidelity, Nick Hornby. The movie is funny, but the book is hystarical. And moving, and insightful.

5. One book that made you cry:
A tie.
All Quiet on the Western Front, Erich Remarque. Lord of the Flies, William Golding.

6. One book you wish had been written:
Instructions on How to be Kind in All Situations - A Church Mom Handbook for Closet Wenches by Della Darty

7. One book you wish had never been written:
Any book of hate. Mein Kampf, and the like. I wish they had not been written, but I think that since they were, it is right that they were published and that we still have copies. Now they can be used as learning tools.

8. One book you’re currently reading:
Praise Habbit, David Crowder. related quote "On the way to Red Robin I had David Crowder on and I was making up a song about my new Bible being red and sitting on my seat. I think I was finding God in my car."~Kristin

9. One book you’ve been meaning to read:
The Myth of a Christian Nation: How the Quest for Political Power Is Destroying the Church, Gregory Boyd. I have purchased it and have decided it is a topic I want to explore. Now I have to find time.

10.One book you will eventually read again:
Custom of the Country, Edith Wharton. It is such an involved story line that spans almost an entire lifetime. Yet, it is a quick read in relationship to how long it is. Its just...great.

11. Tag 5 others: AndieAnn, Lindsay, Juliane (on facebook if you have to), Stefanie, and Kristin

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

.

arrogant: >adj. having or revealing an exaggerated sense of one's own importance or abilities

For the Most Part, Christians are Embarrassing

Dear Blogger Beta: A Retraction

Dear Blogger Beta:
Please accept these words as an apology, and consider retracting your libel lawsuit.
I misunderstood your ways, and wrongly assumed that you were hindering me from editing HTML as I wished. I felt that this was cramping my style, especially in my sidebar, which i regard with high esteem. Now, Beta, I realize that I needed to look outside of my narrow "edit template" focus, and realize that all along, you allowed my free spirit to add a "script page element." YAY!
We see eye to eye now, beta. Sorry for the misunderstanding.
Later,
Enlightened Blogger

P.S. Hey, why don't you make it so that I don't have to type my whole email address in to log on? You might want to do something about this before I retract my retraction.
Be afraid. Be very afraid. Site users are not content to sit back and let platforming changes roll past them. Just ask Mark Zuckerberg.

To Blogger Beta:

To Blogger Beta:
You are ruining my life!
To Be Continued.

a conversation

Scene: Joe and Angela in Ranger.

Backdrop: Eureka Road and Telegraph area.

~A Conversation~

Joe: *silence*

Angela: *silence*

Joe: "So. What are we going to do about your public speaking?"

Angela: *silence*

Joe:"What?"

Angela:"What?"

Joe:"Hello?"

Angela:"I guess, when I'm in public, only ask me about tennis, crocheting, and camping."

Joe: ~mute chuckle.~*inaudible*~snort~

Angela: *silence*

The OAD, and such

We have recently been schooled on the joys of the OED. I, too, sing its praises daily. I happen to have a bad back, so my volume is electronic. True, it doesn't smell like a basement, and it doesn't provide the same satisfactory "thwack, thwack, thwack," page flipping sound as its bound counterpart, but it the spell checker and calculator function help me get over it.
Mine is actually an Oxford American Dictionary. Though the war wages on as to whether the OAD is as comprehensive or academically relevant as the OED, I find that every word I have cross checked is present in each.
Proof: "bloody" is found as "a vulgar slang" (with origins noted the same,) in both editions, except mine mentions that it is "chiefly British." That's helpful anyway, because I wouldn't want to go around saying chiefly British expressions, for fear that I could be misidentified as such.
This has a point, I promise.
Because I have a "history" function, I thought I would share the last five words I looked up.
1. pasha
2. Pict
3. Nahuatl
4. debauchery (for origin purposes)
5. Navarino, Battle of
There is also a phrase search, which has only been used once in earnest, for looking up "hell for leather." The remainder of these searches is chiefly made up of Joe and I wondering just what kind of phrases it offers to define. ex: "up a creek."

Dear Pope Benedict XVI,

Dear Pope Benedict XVI,
First things first: can I call you P? I think that it would do wonders for you image if you didn't mind things like that.
I wanted to write and let you know that not only do I admire your argumentative skills, but also wish to commend you on sticking to your guns, and only acting like you want to apologise.
This seems like the only rational thing to do, and wanted to let you know, just in case you maybe having second thoughts, that the technique you are employing ALWAYS works for me. Sure, you may be the leader of a world wide faith community, and I may be a B- student from Michigan, but I think we have a lot of the same things going: a big mouth, a volatile public, and reasons not to lie.
So you said some things about Muslims. Wait, you didn't even say them. You quoted a really old dead guy who said something about Muslims in the 14th century. People are mad that you said it, and are demanding an apology. That's okay, P, don't sweat it. Just keep doing what you're doing. What you did was great. You said that you were sorry that they were upset, but didn't mention anything about being sorry that you said it. And that's because you are not. We know this.
This is a technique I often find helpful myself. Here is a bit of example dialog from a day at work that I feel will help you relate my situation to yours:
Lisa: did you do the membership filing?
Me:yes
Lisa: I really wish you wouldn't have, because now I have to go back through all of them to make cards
Me: I'm sorry you don't like making cards.
So, P: You didn't accidentally let an archaic quote slip out during a sermon. You weighed your words, did your homework, and let them have it. Now don't back down!
Sincerely (for real!),
An Apology Faker

Note: Here is something to wrap your mind around. People were so outraged by a comic about Muhammad (in a Danish newspaper that felt their country being threatend by Islamic extremists) that they rioted for days, displaying what the Pope may call "evil and inhuman," because of what they viewed as disrespect for their leader. Once they feel threatend by The Pope, however, they have no problem burning him in effigy.
I know that having an "us," "them" attitude about world events is not productive, or even healthy. Saying simply "they" is a non specific stereotype. And to this, I plea "I'm sorry" in true Pope style.

Dear Jonathan,

Dear Jonathan,
Everyone was so happy when you were born! Your five sisters were so happy to have a little brother, and all of us in the family were buzzing about how your mom finally had a boy! When your family came up to see us the next month, I felt very lucky that I was the only one of the kids that got to hold you, because I was 10, which was a very big deal. You were so small and your fingers were so long! I was scared that I may drop you, but you just looked at me and grinned your Jonathan grin.
When I visited your grandma last fall, I saw from school pictures that you were growing to be a very handsome young man. Now, you have been reduced to a headline.
Two weeks ago, at your sisters wedding, I am told you were charming and polite, as usual. I'm sorry that I was not there. As I look at the invitation now, the air fare doesn't seem to be as unattainable as it had seemed to be a month ago.
I miss you already, Jonathon. We all do. I don't know why you decided to follow the crowd. You knew better than this!
My heart hurts for your Mom and Dad. For your sisters. For you. I know that I should feel consoled that you trusted Jesus, but right now I'm too busy missing you. Good Bye, Jonathan.

You Will Be Missed,
LOVE,
Your Cousin

Note to potential commentors: the word "sorry" is not allowed to appear in any context, language, or order. Thank you.

A Brief Reprieve

Dear Gameboy,
You are cool, but I'm going out to see the glory.
Bring it on!


I never did like the word mediocre
I never wanted it to be said of me, oh, no
Just point me to the job and I’d go over, over
Looking for the very best that could be
So what is this thing I see
Going on inside of me?
When it comes to the grace of God
Sometimes it’s like …

I’m playing Gameboy standing in the middle of the Grand Canyon
I’m eating candy sittin’ at a gourmet feast
I’m wading in a puddle when I could be swimming in the ocean
Tell me what’s the deal with me
(I know the time has come for me to)
Wake up and see the glory

Every star in the sky tells His story, oh
And every breeze is singing His song
All of creation is imploring
Hey, come see this grand phenomenon
The wonder of His grace
Should take my breath away
I miss so many things when I’m content with …

Playing Gameboy standing in the middle of the Grand Canyon
Eating candy sittin’ at a gourmet feast
Wading in a puddle when I could be swimming in the ocean
Tell me what’s the deal with me
(I know the time has come for me to)
Wake up and see the glory

How could I trivialize it
This awesome gift of God’s grace?
Once I have come to realize it
I should be speechless and amazed

Wake up and see the glory
Open your eyes and take it in
Wake up and be amazed
Over and over again

God’s love is calling to you and to me
Wake up, wake up
Open your eyes
-Steven Curtis Chapman
(Because he's off the chain, son.)

Preview (a lengthy one is cooking)

A Letter of Appreciation:

To All Taylor Festival Attendees

Thanks for the Memories :)

Please Welcome A Guest Blogger

Dear Gas Pricers:
I wanted to drop you a quick line and let you know that I have never been fooled by the "9" you place in the "tenths," place in the price of gas on the signs. Yes, I know that when you list the price of regular unleaded gas at $2.89.9 that it is really only a tenth of a penny away from being $2.90. Yes, I know that if I fill up my tank with 10 gallons of gasoline at the "higher," price the difference would total a whopping ONE CENT.
So, might I suggest just putting the freaking whole number on the sign? I've noticed many of your establishments running out of space now that the #2 must go first. Why not just drop the nine? I doubt that you are going to change, but I felt obligated to let you know that I am onto your game and from now on I will actually buy one penny less of gas each tank just so it all works out.

Regards,
Mike

Dear Hungry Man in Detroit,

Dear Hungry Man in Detroit,
I would like to commend you on your exceedingly effective change collection tactic. Others, with a cup or an outstretched hand, implore the baseball watching masses to give what they will. A passerby can easily dismiss them by simply looking the other way, or internally reasoning that the person wants too much, or that they will use said donation on vice or the like.
You, on the other hand, have honed a technique that could easily take the panhandling profession by storm. Combining a stalker/specificity approach, you were able to squeeze me for every last dime I had. Literally. Granted, Joe and I together had a grand total of $2.25 (in quarters) to our names, but, after said technique was employed, you walked away a richer man than we.
As a courtesy, I will now clue you in on my side of the transaction, as I’m sure your market research budget is somewhat overdrawn at this juncture. You were effective in acquiring our change because:
1)You were specific. Naming the amount you wanted, 75cents, put things into perspective. I probably had 75 cents, and I could most definitely spare it. It was in no way an unreasonable request, and it made me think that maybe you were going to buy food with it* because I, too, have scrounged for quarters (in my car seats) in order to buy two sliders.
2)You put forth effort. Though I did not think for one second that you actually cared about the outcome of the baseball game, your inquiry instantly made you a person. This directly combated my former change keeping maneuver, that operated on the premise that those without a face or voice could be ignored, because I could quickly forget about them. Once someone is a person, I cannot imagine him or her away, like we selfish suburbanites often do. Instead, I must internalize you as a fellow human, just like me, in need, and not a “huddled mass” that can easily be overlooked.
3)You were semi scary in a passive way. Walking towards us from across the street showed that you were speaking only to us. This made us realize early on that we could not rely on fellow sidewalk travelers to address your concerns. Beyond that, your dedication to imploring us past our initial shoulder shrugging, and the adjustment of your gait to match ours signaled that you might have actually got in the truck and come home with us if we did not find anything to give you right then.
4)You made me think about you. Evidence: this letter.
Good luck in future endeavors.
Sincerely,
Tigers Fan

P.S. Next game, as part of my own market research, I’m going to make you a sack lunch. Do you want strawberry or grape jelly?


*Foot note to point #1: I, in no way, care what you did with the aforementioned trifle. Unlike some people that I have recently spoken with, I don’t have a problem feeding whatever it is that is keeping you warm or alive. I am not your judge, and cannot imagine ever being that condescending.

Dear A Stapler,

Dear A Stapler,
A letter of thanks is in order at this time, and I intend to deliver it, as late as it may be. This thank you is all inclusive, and applies to both the sturdy rubber bottom desk stapler and the mini backpack stapler, the electrically driven automatic stapler and the Bob Vila style staple gun, for you handy types.
Of all desk effects, you are the most taken for granted, and yet, the most functional. You are as dynamic as your title of compound machine suggests. Your subtle presence screams office building, yet affirms home. Your ability to puncture flesh lets us know that you are not messing around, and that next to the paper shredder, you are the one to watch. And yet, your simple ease of use and performance asserts a sense of comfort and dependability.
You are the golden retriever of office supplies. You sit patiently, waiting to helpfully bind pages of homework, receipts, or litigation. You are loyal and bring together.
You are also an absolute necessity when any kind of paperwork is to be done. In fact, I would have a slight knot in my stomach if you were missing in any kind of paper situation. Your work is quick and permanent, unlike your inept associate, Paper Clip. Unlike Clip, your clamping does not slide off unexpectedly, or hide in inconvenient places like the bottom of pen holders.
Sure, you jam up sometimes and occasionally run out of staples every 300 clicks. But Stapler, I know this is just to remind me of your presence and gain some needed attention. You do a good job, Stapler, I will write you a recommendation anytime.

Sincerely Yours,
A Receptionist

P.S. I didn’t forget about you, A Staple Remover. I know that you are underappreciated, and are always there to clean up after A Stapler, who gets all the glory. Stay strong, your time will come. Keep your chin up.

Note: I was inspired to write about my love of the stapler while reading John Mayer's Dear A Pear.

Dear Grandma-

Dear Grandma-
Thank you for inviting me to your Mother's Day banquet. I know this note is a little late, but I did not want to send it along without photos. I originally was hesitant about attending because I thought it would be a room full of women that I didn't know singing juvenile Sunday school songs and eating mediocre catered roast beef. Instead, it was a room full of wonderful women I didn't know singing charmingly juvenile Sunday school songs and eating mediocre catered pork chops. It was great! Thank you for being the ultimate matriarch.
Love,
Your granddaughter
P.S. I promise I will get baptized. Sometime soon. Okay, well, before the rapture.