The following is copied from what I wrote on the feedback page here. And I must admit he got more spelling mistakes *sigh*
I am typing in the dark next to my sleeping wife on her new netbook, a computer with very small keys and a nearly complete lack of light aside from the white background on the feedback page, so I apologize if there are any major spelling or grammatical errors.
I was curious why your weekly column was missing from Salon last week. They gave no reason, just a simple "His column will be back next week," as if you were simply enjoying an extra cappuccino on one of your walks around the country and lost track of the time. I figured if there was anything more important, such as a stroke or a heart attack or being mobbed by a bunch of angry drunken Danish bachelor farmers, bellicose from drinking too much fermented cider and wanting to know when you would talk about them for once, that they would probably tell me.
This assumption is really my only mistake in the matter but it is a costly one, as I don't know if you will read this letter in any sort of a timely fashion, let alone enjoy it. You do have a show to work on and I am looking forward to hearing it this weekend. Or the next weekend, or whatever weekend it is that you are cleared for the heavy-duty work of live radio again. I can wait, I'm used to waiting for good things, and your show is a wonderful thing to me and my family.
I wish you a speedy recovery, continued good health after your recovery and as many more years to drink in the wonderfully absurd as you would like. As I am Jewish I will also wish you a happy New Year - I know, its not your holiday, but we could all use a happy new year right about now.
I've been listening since the late 70s. I was a young child when my parents first put your show on the radio, WGBH out of Boston, and it was fun and enjoyable and your monologues reliably put me to sleep. Either I've gotten older or you've gotten better as now it only puts my children to sleep about half the time whilst I reliably stay awake, amused, wishing for a desperately-needed nap. Or perhaps I should embrace the power of And. Its a powerful word.
Again, all my best.
I am typing in the dark next to my sleeping wife on her new netbook, a computer with very small keys and a nearly complete lack of light aside from the white background on the feedback page, so I apologize if there are any major spelling or grammatical errors.
I was curious why your weekly column was missing from Salon last week. They gave no reason, just a simple "His column will be back next week," as if you were simply enjoying an extra cappuccino on one of your walks around the country and lost track of the time. I figured if there was anything more important, such as a stroke or a heart attack or being mobbed by a bunch of angry drunken Danish bachelor farmers, bellicose from drinking too much fermented cider and wanting to know when you would talk about them for once, that they would probably tell me.
This assumption is really my only mistake in the matter but it is a costly one, as I don't know if you will read this letter in any sort of a timely fashion, let alone enjoy it. You do have a show to work on and I am looking forward to hearing it this weekend. Or the next weekend, or whatever weekend it is that you are cleared for the heavy-duty work of live radio again. I can wait, I'm used to waiting for good things, and your show is a wonderful thing to me and my family.
I wish you a speedy recovery, continued good health after your recovery and as many more years to drink in the wonderfully absurd as you would like. As I am Jewish I will also wish you a happy New Year - I know, its not your holiday, but we could all use a happy new year right about now.
I've been listening since the late 70s. I was a young child when my parents first put your show on the radio, WGBH out of Boston, and it was fun and enjoyable and your monologues reliably put me to sleep. Either I've gotten older or you've gotten better as now it only puts my children to sleep about half the time whilst I reliably stay awake, amused, wishing for a desperately-needed nap. Or perhaps I should embrace the power of And. Its a powerful word.
Again, all my best.