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Sometimes I get to help out my dear friend Dotti Primrose tackle some of her thornier letters. Here's a couple of letters from the WWN site that I had a hand in:
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BOO-HOO, NOBODY WATCHES THE NETWORKS ANYMORE!
Dear Dotti: I've been a network executive for many years, and we are very worried. We are losing audience share to cable! We're trying a lot of things . . . racier story lines, raw language, partial nudity. It's not working. They just keep flipping the channel. We've eliminated opening show credits and theme songs, we're eliminating closing show credits, yet people keep turning the channel. What can we do next? -- Jeremy in TinselTown
Dear Jeremy: Why are you writing to me about this? I'm not a network programmer! With idiots like you in charge, the networks are in bigger trouble than I thought!
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My family is too fat to fly!
Dear Dotti: When my family and I tried to go on our annual vacation to Hershey, Pa., the pilot told us we had to get off the plane! They said that my husband, our two sons and I were grossly overweight and that they would not attempt to fly with us on the plane. We each paid for our two seats and if they're worried about us blocking the exits then they ought to make larger exits. I want to sue them, do you think I have a case? I believe I have the law on my side. -- Big Boned in Little Rock
Dear Big Boned: There are two laws working against you: The law of physics and the law of gravity. Take a train next time. A freight train.
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This dingy driver doesn't do turn signals!
Dear Dotti: Why are people always getting on my case about signaling at an intersection? That's my business! Right? Left? Why do the drivers behind me need to know? What are they doing— Writing a book? There are laws in this country protecting my right to privacy and it's none of their business where I'm going! If people don't like my driving, let 'em take the bus, that's what I say! -- Road Rage in Detroit
Dear Rage: Obviously you have an airbag where your brain should be. Do you honestly think anyone cares where you are going? On the road to common sense, you got off at an off-ramp!
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Fourth time is no charm for bad-news bride's parents!
Dear Dotti: I'm getting married again. But my folks say they're not going to pay for the wedding! It's not fair! It wasn't my fault that my first husband turned out to be a stupid jerk who didn't have two nickels to rub together and ran off with a showgirl. And it certainly wasn't my idea that my second husband refinanced my parents' home with a guy he barely knew who worked at the bank. My third husband thought he was doing my parents a favor by selling their TV and all their furniture and giving them some of the money. The judge dismissed all the charges against all three of my husbands, so why do my parents still hold it against me? -- Always the Bride in Chicago
Dear Always: If stupidity were a handicap, you'd have the best parking spot. You can get married as many times as you want. Just don't expect anyone else to foot the bill.
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MY STUPID SISTER WON'T STOP COPYING ME!
Dear Dotti: My younger sister is driving me nuts, because she is totally unoriginal and has to imitate every single thing I do. If I dye my hair, she dyes hers the same color, if I wear cowboy boots, she runs out and buys a pair. One time I got a tattoo on my ankle and the next day she was flashing one just like mine. She walks and talks like me so much people think we're twins, even though we're two years apart. This was cute when we were little kids, but now I'm 18 and I'm tired of having a "shadow." How can I make my kid sister get her own life? - Terri in New York
Dear Terri: Tell her you're planning to get a sex change, and give her the name of a doctor!
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Vacuums, not diamonds, should be my girl's best friend!
Dear Dotti: I can’t seem to keep my wife pleased. I never forget her birthday or our anniversary. Christmas is always special. Yet each time she opens her present, she makes a face and storms off. We're talking nice presents like a blender, a vacuum cleaner, a coffee-maker, and even a Dustbuster. What is wrong with my wife? -- Gifted Husband in Clearview
Dear Gifted: Here's a suggestion for you: Why not try giving her a gift that doesn't involve cleaning? Sounds like you're buying presents for the maid, not your wife!
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What’s the matter with you women?
Dear Dotti: Whenever I ask a beautiful woman if she wants to make out with me, she’ll say something like “I sort of have a boyfriend,” or “I have a doctor’s appointment,” or “I’m getting my nails done,” or “I’m having a root canal,” or “I’m washing my hair,” or “I’m gay,” or “I don’t think of you that way.” What’s wrong with all you women? How come you women are so hard to please? — Rocco in Brooklyn
Dear Rocco: You’ve obviously had a run of bad luck. But don’t despair. I’m sure there’s a girl out there who hasn’t a clue or is desperate enough to fall for a smooth talker like you.
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Telemarketer has got the blues!
Dear Dotti: I’m a telephone solicitor or as the public calls me, a “telemarketer.” I call people at their home and try to sell them useful things and services. But they keep hanging up on me. I like to think that I’m performing a public service since how else would people know about these wonderful items and companies unless I called them at dinnertime to let them know? It is a lonely job and I am discouraged. People just don’t appreciate my efforts. I’m just trying to help improve their lives. I am a patient man, but it’s getting harder and harder to maintain a positive attitude. Any hints? — Cold Caller in N.M.
Dear Cold Caller: Here’s a news flash for you: People don’t like to be bothered at dinnertime — or any time! Consider a new line of work, or get used to getting hung up on.
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I am losing my grip on reality!
Dear Dotti: Lately, I seem to be losing my grip on reality. It was little things at first, voices coming out of the radio and the TV when they were off. Then came the secret messages in newspapers and magazines. Then people who only I can see were giving me career advice and helping me solve lengthy math problems that won me a Nobel Prize. Now, here’s the weird part: I got this guy following me around, claiming to be a Hollywood producer, telling me he wants to make a movie out of my life! What do you think? — Pitiful Mind in Princeton
Dear Pitiful: It is true, you have lost your grip on reality. It’s time to seek professional help. Your life is like a math equation that just doesn’t add up.
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