Dear C,

It has come to my attention that a kind and thoughtful reader has graciously taken the trouble to describe our musings as ‘viciously entertaining’  – praise enough to bring tears to this blogger’s eyes.  Not since the oldballandchain brought our brand new Lexus RX300 home from the hospital – I mean, car showroom – have I experienced a moment of such pure, unadulterated pride.  Doubtless, there are women reading this who will protest that giving birth to their children was the most joyful day in their lives, but give me a leather gearstick and wooden steering wheel any day.  (Let’s see: freedom and power V. being robbed of both, along with your last remaining shred of dignity.  Hmm.  You pick).

But I digress.  At the risk of sounding like Sally Fields on Oscar day, I want to thank our small but loyal band of readers for sticking with us these past few months, through thick and not so thin, and especially for not automatically recoiling in horror as we proceed to commit social suicide in cyberspace.  Oh, wait a minute, there’s someone at the door….is that Katie Couric I see hovering outside?  She would never do anything mean to us, right?

Faithfully,

P.

P,

I’m a little troubled by your remarks as I’ve always thought our correspondence was a private matter.  I am something of a voyeur myself, but what must my family think about me now?  Will it, as I fear, confirm their deepest and darkest fears?  Or worse, they won’t get me or it at all?

If it’s true that Katie Couric is hovering just outside, please give me at least a week to become the woman I want the world to know.  I wish I could share Brad Pitt’s view of "too much attention being given to celebrity" when so many other issues in the world need our immediate attention.  He, like so many others of his ilk, clearly doesn’t realize how much of our daily existence is spent eye to eye with Grim Reality, and why, even with the help of a Lexus, we need fame so desperately. 

In any case, I was going to tell you today about my early and unfortunate marriage but am feeling somewhat inhibited by our new audience.  Perhaps, much like the chic rehab centers so popular with celebs, there are clinics available for those of us still in need of learning how to express our private issues and deepest longings to the masses.

Oh, what the hell am I talking about, dearest P–this is the moment I’ve been waiting for, well, forever.  Perhaps instead of finding help to figure it all out, I can just join Tom Cruise in Scientology and ride the wave to crazy as the newest trend.  Or perhaps I’m already there.

Faithfully,

C.

Dear C,

I write to you on a matter of some urgency, concerning a delicate matter of social etiquette. My question for you is this: given the recently elected Pope’s advanced age (he is 78), and the fact that he has already exceeded the average American male’s lifespan by four years, do you think now is an appropriate to commence another Vatican Death Watch? I ask this because I would like to book our family’s upcoming summer vacation, and would hate to miss out on another funereal mass in Rome. Had I known that St. Peter’s Square was the happening place to be this past couple of weeks, I would have ripped off my Kabbalah bracelet, snagged a set of Rosary beads and hopped on a plane to Fiumincino faster than Madonna can bemoan the vulgarity and crass indecency of today’s consumer society. Come to think of it, several of my relatives are approaching this important age benchmark soon, so a swift response would be appreciated.

Benedicte,

P.

Dearest P,

As a friend who truly understands where your interests lie, I must confess that your concerns are, frankly, misplaced.  The next trend, by which I mean, quite naturally, the next important area of discourse in America, will be provided by the lesbian, pro-choice nuns wishing to be priests and are desperately seeking to remain a part of a church.  As we discussed just yesterday, we are ready to embrace at least some of this cutting edge lifestyle, so why not make the full commitment.  The beauty of this next wave is that it’s quintessentially American–we truly believe it’s up to any group to change for us and not the other way around.   Although demanding access is enticing, my only deeper desire is to be more like the British who are now installing toll roads, I understand, in the middle of the city of London.  Bloody brilliant way to keep the riff raff from all that their ancestors built, stone by stone.  I think perhaps gates to our own village may add a certain cache and trendiness to our lives.  As a big supporter of the people, especially those working for me, I know we can work out some limited access.  So forget the pope, dear P, and seek to create our own nirvana right here.  Soon enough there will be others demanding to get in and we can laugh at our brilliant plan to sell our crappy little abodes as the trendiest thing going.  Who knows, maybe we can even entice Madonna.

Faithfully,

C.