Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, December 19, 1993 TAG: 9312190012
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: C1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: Ed Shamy
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
"Come on now, Mr. Shamy, with all you pick on other people, how can you write [a cassette tape] `packed into an empty box of lime gelatin'? How can it be empty and also full simultaneously?"
J.S., Salem.
Dear J.S., At the time, "into a box from which the powdered lime gelatin mix had been emptied, a cassette tape was packed and subsequently mailed to me," seemed a wee bit wordy. I'll be more careful next time.
"Dear Ed, . . . you have been made aware that there are now 31 days in November. This is one of the very first results of the passing of NAFTA. I was worried that something like this would happen. That extra day in November has been imported from Mexico. The problem is, it was manufactured by workers making only 34 cents an hour. Granted, we have to pay American workers more than that, but let's talk about quality. (And what's going to happen to our day-makers?)"
H.F., Newbern.
Dear H.F., But think of the trade-off. We can sell them February or some other useless month without paying tariffs or all that red tape.
"Dear Mr. Shamy, Shame on you! A rubbed index finger sharpened and pointed at you . . ."
T.C., Christiansburg.
Dear T.C., Your finger, not mine.
"Dear Ed, I've been having a recurring nightmare and I need your help. Here is my dream: After a very pleasurable round of lovemaking with my dear sweet wife, I drift off to sleep and, much to my horror, awaken to find she has cut off my manhood. To add insult to injury, she then loads me up in the family sedan and throws me out on the shoulder of the road. The worst part is she keeps my most prized organ on the table beside our bed . . . "
J.A., Roanoke.
Dear J.A., This must be the harmonic convergence. I've had that dream, too. And so have many others.
"Dear Mr. Shamey, You were referred to me as a serious golfer. Therefore, I have selected you as one of a very restricted group of golfers to receive this offering . . ."
Jerry Heard, the Heard Golf Academy, Canton, Ohio.
Dear Jerry, The oaf (curse him!) who referred me to you deserves to have his tongue ripped out. He considers me to be a serious golfer? I've golfed four times since the Yankees last won the World Series! Besides, he misspelled my last name. One more piece of your junk mail and I'm coming after you with my nine-iron. If I can find it.
"Dear Mr. Shamy . . . As you can see, I got turned down for parole last year, and incidentally I've just received another denial . . . If there's anything I can do for you, please let me know."
H.C., Powhatan Correctional Center.
Dear H.C., You have a nine-iron I can borrow?
by CNB