Date: Tue, 12 Mar 2002

Dear Mister Wonderful,

You are my hero. I think you are so nifty.

Can you help me with my homework sometimes? I want to get good grades so I can grow up to be as smarmy as you are.

Yours Truly,

Sparky the Skatepark Kid


Dear Young Billy Shakespeare,

You know what, kid? That's a pretty good idea. Batman needs a Robin. I need someone to stall the Feds and carry the heavy equipment. You can be Short Round to my Indiana Jones -- we'll offend both racial sensitivity and the movie-going public for years. Then you become a Goonie and I'll pretend to forget you ever existed. Deal?

Back in the 50's, we had Junior Wonder Men. It cost you fifteen box tops and a picture of your sister to join. Didn't matter which boxes the tops came from; we used them to pad the crates of bullion we were shipping out of Kandar, which is an whole other story, believe me. As they grew older, many of these Jr. W’s who had seemed destined to live lives of desperate security and comfort wound up doing time for Grievous Bodily Smarm. After that they dropped out of society to form underground sarcasm cults. Which, honestly, is a total coincidence.

Anyway. Point is. Mister Wonderful has certainly had his share of youthful enthusiasts but none of them ever jumped off a roof wearing a lab coat. Booyah to you, Wayne. What I'm saying here is that Good Grades are fine in their time, but Good Friends will wear the Catwoman outfit when it's not strictly necessary. It is indeed, not what you know, but whom.

You wanna be like me, kid? Just follow the Three Loves: Love Wisdom (philo-sophia), Love Others (xeno-philia), Love Yourself (philo-selpho).

Write if you get work.