That Stupid Feeling

In the last month of 2009, a strange feeling came over me.  A feeling of warmth, and happiness, and wanting to reach out to people.  I realize now that it was a near miss with insanity brought on by a combination of snow, Santa, roast turkey, Jesus and Vaughn Monroe.  I have, thankfully, come back to my senses and returned to my grouchy, cynical self.

But during that time period, I did send out Christmas cards to friends and relatives that I hadn't contacted in years.  And to my surprise, I actually heard back from a few of them.  And three of them actually sounded like they were glad to hear from me.  So glad in fact, that they sent me their e-mail addresses and asked me to write them and bring them up to date on what had been going on in my life all of these years.

And like a total dumb fuck knucklehead, I did.  I sent each of the three a multi page letter, describing all of the highs and lows ... triumphs and defeats ... wins and losses in my cruise through the 30's, 40's and early 50's. All of these letters went out before the New Year.

And I waited for my replies.  And waited.  And waited.

No one wrote me back.  Knowing better, but giving these people the benefit of the doubt, and convincing myself that my letters had disappeared into the ethernet, I double checked the e-mail addresses and sent a second, toned down note to all three.

And I waited some more.  But guess what?  Still nothing.

I should have let it go, but I didn't.  I had saved the letters that I sent, and I went back through them, scouring them for any signs of mental illness, entreaties for large sums of cash or extreme cheerfulness.  It sure didn't look like it.  So I concluded that I had been "punk'd" by these assholes.  They were probably sitting there snickering at me for falling for their little game.  I felt like Elmer Fudd when Bugs Bunny had tricked him yet again, and his head became a giant lollypop, with the word "Sucker" written on the wrapper.

For a while, I considered sending the three one last letter, berating them in the vilest language that I could muster. But those are the actions of a lesser man ... an immature individual ... a spurned child.  I remembered that I had included the address of this blog in my letters, hoping that they'd check me out, and maybe become regular visitors.

I don't know if they ever did, but should they do so sometime in the future, I'd like to leave them these words of peace, conciliation and brotherhood ...

You guys are mean poopy-heads and I hate you!