Seriously Terrible Holiday Gifts (Part 4)

(pretty in pink! perfect gifts for girls)

Dear J.C. Penney,

Well, you've done it again! I thought your Christmas catalog's gift selection for boys just couldn't be beat. But I was wrong! The pages for girls are even better!

I could tell immediately that I had reached the girls' section of the catalog. I mean, that bright pink background just shouts, "Calling all girls!" ... either that or "Pass the Pepto-Bismol, I TOLD you that salmon didn't smell right."

But no. You know I'm kidding! Every girl loves pink. And apparently every girl has an unrelenting, nearly-pathological desire to be a princess. Or a mother. Or perhaps a coy, coquette-ish Southern belle with pearls, gloves, and a hideous hat.

We could use more girls like this in the world, let me tell you. I am SO relieved that the "Women's Lib" movement that was such a big deal during my own formative years is finally, once and for all, completely forgotten.

I mean, honestly, what self-respecting woman wants to dress like a man and cart around an ugly brown briefcase?

I myself would much rather put on my crown, fold up my Majestic Magic Mirror Dresser Suitcase With A Real, Battery-Operated Hair Dryer ($49.99) and stroll over to a friend's house to try on each other's tiaras.

Happy Holidays to you and yours, J.C. Penney! Hats off to your Christmas catalog! Or maybe I should say "tiaras off!" Ha. Ha.

Sincerely,

Lesley

Seriously Terrible Holiday Gifts (Part 3)

(merry christmas, billy! hope you have a blast)

Dear J.C. Penney,

I just want to congratulate you on the outstanding selection of toys for boys this year!! Great job!! Whoever your toy buyers are, they totally deserve a raise.

Not that long ago, "gender neutral" gifts were all the rage. Remember that ridiculous trend? I mean, honestly. Anatomically correct male baby dolls with tiny camouflage-print diaper bags? Please. Any boy who would play with that, deserves whatever punishment his preschool pals decide to dish out. Not that I am condoning violence. Though, come to think of it, you probably wouldn't complain if I DID condone it. After all, the following images are straight from your catalog:







Wow. My muscles became more toned, my voice dropped a register, and hair began sprouting from my ears, just from looking at those pictures.

I just have one question. Can that Camo Marshmallow Shooter possibly be retrofitted to shoot something else? Gerbils, perhaps? Or tiny hand-made arrows? In next year's catalog, you might want to leave out the word "marshmallow." I really don't think today's parents want their boys playing with marshmallows.

Drop that word, and you'll have a whopper of a line-up for tomorrow's budding bank robbers, paramilitary stealth fighters and homegrown terrorists.

Fun for all!

Sincerely,

Lesley

Seriously Terrible Holiday Gifts (Part 2)

(ho ho ho. yes, i'm talking about you suzy)

Dear J.C. Penney,

I finally got a few minutes to peruse the toy section of your Christmas catalog. I must say, I was a little disturbed by this full-page image:

Oh sure, the picture is cute. The description is equally adorable:

NEWBORN BABY DOLL
Her own itty-bitty baby to love and care for. Birth certificate is included. $19.99.

Ok. But here's the deal. Even if Suzy is delighted with her own itty-bitty baby, Suzy's mother is apt to be less enthusiastic. I mean, who wants to be a grandmother at the age of 28? Apparently Suzy was not listening during those mother-daughter talks about abstinence and purity and not getting caught in the same awful, hopeless trap for the next 20 years of your life with a worthless no-good man who can't even find the time to get off his butt and apply for a job but boy, he's got plenty of time for hanging around Dave and Buster's drinking beer with his good-for-nothing friends.

I would recommend a disclaimer at the bottom of this page. Maybe something like:
WARNING: LIFESTYLE HAZARD. Not recommended for children with low self-esteem.

Just a suggestion.

Thanks for listening! By the way, I love your polyester pants. Nobody does elastic waistbands quite as good as J.C. Penney, I always say.

Sincerely,

Lesley

Seriously Terrible Holiday Gifts (Part 1)

(happy holidays! or not)

Dear J.C. Penney:

I just received your Christmas catalog in the mail. I knew right away that it was a Christmas catalog because it's red and shiny and it says WOW! YIPPEE! and FREE SHIPPING on the front. For me, those are the real sentiments behind the holidays. Yes, sirree. In fact, I bet that is exactly what the three Wise Men said when they reached the Baby Jesus.

WOW! YIPPEE! FREE SHIPPING directly from heaven!

What a heart-warming thought.

I do have a few questions about the catalog, though.

First, I was looking for a Dallas Cowboys t-shirt for my husband, and I noticed this picture of a headless, half-armed man:

I do think it's admirable that you use real-life, developmentally challenged people like this in your catalogs. Really I do. But this might be carrying it a little too far. Perhaps you could Photoshop someone else's head and upper arms onto him next time.

Just a suggestion.

I can't wait to see what's in the toy section of the catalog!

Sincerely,

Lesley

Foreword

(and so it begins ...)

Someone famous once said, "There's a book in each of us." At least, I think it was someone famous. If I had time, I would look it up. But I have a book to write. You'll have to look it up yourself. Sorry.

Regardless of who said it, or whether it was ever said at all, I think there is indeed a book in each of us. The question is, what is my book? Can I uncover the essence of my story? Can I find the words to tell it?

These are deep, important questions, which bring to mind other deep, important questions such as, Why are there so many keys on my key chain? I was pondering this question just this morning, when I realized that out of the mass of keys I carry around every day, I only recognize 2 of them. There's my car key, the big black one with the red panic button designed to go off automatically if you put the keys in your pocket and then sit down at a fancy, exclusive restaurant with your car parked directly out front so all the fancy, exclusive people are guaranteed to be noticeably perturbed when your lights start flashing and your car emits extremely loud beeping noises until you finally realize, duh, that is my car making all that ruckus and you dig out your keys and shut the stupid thing off.

Then of course, there's my house key. It's the silver one that must at all times be kept right next to the car key so I don't confuse it with the six other practically identical silver ones that have somehow appeared on my key chain even though I have no idea what they are for.

It's a mystery. What doors can these keys open? What vehicles might they start? Who put them on my key chain? What story might they tell?

Which brings me back to my original question. What story might I tell? Can I find enough stories to fill an entire book? If this foreword is any indication, I think I will manage just fine.

Time will tell.

~~~

Letters from my agent (5)

(it's a good thing i don't discourage easily)

Dear Lesley,

I regret to inform you that Rosetta is no longer employed by Trite & Drivel Publishing Company. She left no forwarding address, she has no cell phone, and her position has not been filled by anyone. In fact, we are no longer accepting submissions of any kind.

Rest assured, we will keep your previous submissions on file. Who knows? Maybe one day there will be a market for a 4-page novel about a scrawny child growing up in Connecticut.

But don't count on it. That was not intended to be encouragement.

Sincerely,

Matilda Crumpetbottom
Secretary

Letters from my agent (4)

(phooey)

Dear Lesley,

There seems to be a little misunderstanding. I was not referring to you specifically when I said "Success might be just around the corner." That was simply part of my automated signature. Believe me, it had nothing to do with your recent submissions.

Of course, if you dedicate yourself to your writing, success might theoretically be possible at some point. Anything can happen.

In the meantime, please stop lurking in my bushes. Even though you did get rid of the black fedora, I am 99% certain that's you.

Sincerely,
Rosetta Quakenbush
Literary Agent