Welcome to Friday Feedback, our weekly effort to dig under the blog’s big toe nail bed to sniff, peer at, and eventually discard the gunky contents of our customers’ critique.
Grossed out yet? Good, so am I. Moving along…
Let’s talk about the positive stuff first. Here is a FB message I received this week:
I read every word you write! It’s like my escape for a couple of minutes each day…..if you don’t post, then I just read a past post. You Rock! You are very hilarious…..is it wrong to crush on a married woman for the fact they are hot and intelligent and know the law? Can swing a driver and hit a golf ball with accuracy and can articulate with correct pronunciation? Is that a bad thing? That is my question for Ask Robin
– Reader Dan
All joking aside, and that is seriously difficult for me, your message means a lot to me. Starting over at the ripe old age of, um, 36? has been both incredibly exciting and frightening. When I get a note like yours, I am (unfortunately for people who hate my blog) encouraged and emboldened to keep going.
As for my being hot, you must be referring to my peri-menopausal night sweats. How did you know? Should I be worried you are watching me from afar?
Come to think of it you clearly aren’t, because you alleged I can hit a golf ball with accuracy. Mr. Patience and Understanding can confirm that the only time the balls go where I want them to is when I shove them back into my golf bag in a furious rage.
Want some proof I suck at golf? Here you go:
Yes, this happened. No, Mr. Patience and Understanding did not give me a mulligan.
Thank you for the love. Feel free to crush away, Mr. P.U. is used to it. I have a whole slew of male admirers who are patiently waiting for him to become less patient and less understanding, including Mr. George Clooney who only married that hideous woman because I turned him down.
And now, for the hate mail:
Well, there seems to be no bottom you won’t scrape to get “attention” and “laughs.” Since your parents obviously never told you I’ll tell you making fun of people with disabilities is NEVER funny. ESPECIALLY CHILDREN.
I hope you get the “help” you NEED because there is something wrong with you.
NOT a “Fan”
Dear Robin DesCamp’s Biggest Fan:
Thank you for reading and critiquing How Independent Should My 12-Year-Old Be?
I’m hopeful that if you take another look at the piece, you will realize I was not making fun of anyone except myself. See, the joke was that I am so dependent upon automation in the bathroom that it took a mentally handicapped child to assist me with the paper towel dispenser.
In addition, unlike you I don’t believe that there are any off-limits when it comes to comedy, or what I do which I suppose some would call “attempted comedy.” Race, religion, retarded children, one-legged redheads with cancer in the one leg, alimony queens, fat people, anorexic people, and the good old-fashioned knock knock joke that ends with the rape and murder of the woman opening the door: these are all game.
Oh, by the way, see what I did there with those quote marks around “attempted comedy?” That’s proper writing. Your use of quotation marks is downright incorrect and irresponsible.
And leave my parents out of this, they are embarrassed enough as it is.
Comedy is tragedy plus time and a way for humans to process difficult emotions and relate to things that hurt in a way that encourages laughter rather than suicide. Because if you think about the state of the world too hard these days and can’t laugh at how horrible it is, you just might lose your mind.
If what you want from comedy or entertainment is a constant reaffirmation of your value system, you should look elsewhere. I suggest the Propaganda section at your local Christian bookstore.
OK folks, I gotta run. I’m making dinner for my new family branch tonight, as we have another engagement in the hizzouse! As my family continues to grow, I am reminded of how lucky I am to have them, even though the only reason they come around is for my porter ale-braised short ribs.
Have a wonderful weekend, everyone!