For our ARE YOU KIDDING ME dept . . .

Here are a few reading and writing tidbits I heard just this week that made scream, "Are You Kidding Me?"

Recently a United Methodist Bishop (who shall remain unnamed . . . but YOU know I'm writing about YOU Mr. Bishop) was given an 8-week vacation from his bishopin' duties so he would have the time and attention necessary to write a 120 page book that would, supposedly, have a deep impact on the church as we know it. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Next time, Mr. Bishop, give me a call. I'll ghost write the darn thing for you in 48 hours and you won't even have to skip your ecclesiastical shower or miss any of those lively, non-boring meetings with your attentive cabinet.

On another front, last week I had an "offer" from a publisher who told me he would be interested in my new book if I shifted the focus from people to themes and rewrote the 60-page proposal from top-to-bottom a third time so he could "have a look at it again." ARE YOU KIDDING ME? No thank you, Mr. Publisher . . . I've known offers before and believe me sir, that's no offer. Your idea is like telling a candy maker that he needs to take the nugget and peanuts out of his PAYDAY and put in more brown sugar and syrup and call his concoction a MILKY WAY. No thanks. I like PAYDAY and I'm sticking with it, even if no one takes a bite.

And now that I'm getting old and crotchety and hair is sprouting from my ears like tufts of everglade grass, I also noted that the New Yorker has published several pieces of humor that aren't nearly as funny as the stuff I've sent 'em of late . . . ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Okay, so humor and satire are according to taste, and I know the competition is in the tens of thousands, but next time I send along a nice piece of my tail to New York, someone could at least take a peek at me. After all, my wife doesn't, and I went to all the trouble of fixing myself up and double-spacing the manuscript. Really, Ms. Editor, call me. I'm available on Saturdays after 6 p.m.

Until next blog . . . .