Dear John Mayer...

Dear John Mayer,

I read your post about Jessica Simpson and her perceived bad-luck-bringing ways in the eyes of the Dallas Cowboys fans.
Isn't it weird that Jessica's defining characteristic is that she's a Texan? I know. I think so too. But it was nice of you to stick up for her and gain a Wednesday's worth of ambivalent press.

Sincerely,
Your #1 fan

Dear Chris Jessie (AKA Mack Brown's Stepson)...

oopsie!

Dear Chris Jessie (AKA Mack Brown's Stepson),

Before yesterday's game, no one knew who you were. Maybe... maybe some people knew you as Mack Brown's Stepson. But now, you are your own man. I mean, yeah, you shouldn't have touched the football... or pretended to touch the football... or stepped out onto the field... or been close enough to the field to even think about touching it. And really, you're a member of Mack's "staff"? But, whatever. You're FAMOUS now, Chris Jessie! Congratulations!!!

Hook 'em horns!
Your #1 fan

Dear Matt Damon...

Dear Matt Damon,

Congratulations on being named the sexiest man alive! I'm not sure what kind of selection process you were forced to go through, but I can only assume it was a rigorous test of your sexiness and manliness. There was probably some sort of weed-out exam administered by the Sexiness Testing Service. But, Matt, I know that those three years of Harvard came in handy in earning that smokin' sexiness aptitude score and compiling your no-doubt impressive CV. Your personal statement must have been right on the money with your combination of wit, sincerity, and sexy. And I'm sure your letters of recommendation from Brad and George carried a lot of weight. I'm glad you were able to make it through the hellish process and finally achieve your goals! So congratulations, Matt Damon, you earned this!!!!

Oh... wait... there was no application process? No CV? No grueling interviews where you have to sit there and look both sexy and manly at the same time? There were just some folks from People magazine who decided to pick you because your movies are successful and the ladies seem to like you? Even better! Congrats!!!

Sincerely,
Your #1 fan

Dear Formal Leotards...

Dear Formal Leotards,

This may seem like an odd letter, but after watching gymnastics on TV last weekend I have a new appreciation for you. The thing is, how can a leotard ever be formal?? You're not wearing pants! Yet, by putting long sleeves on, even though one is wearing the equivalent of a bathing suit, it is somehow now formal. Absolutely amazing. Often times, I too don't want to wear pants to work. Usually I solve this problem by wearing a skirt. Wouldn't it be awesome if a long-sleeved shirt was an acceptable substitute?! Alas, it is not. The power of the long sleeves only applies to the gymnast (and sometimes to the ice skater). Sure, long-sleeved button down shirts are more formal than the short-sleeved shirts, but both still require nice pants on the bottom. So, Formal Leotards, I just wanted to say how impressed I am in how you harnessed the strength of the long-sleeves; others have tried, but none have been as successful as you.

Sincerely,
Your #1 fan

Dear Spam (e-mail, not food product)...

Dear Spam (e-mail, not food product),

I don't really like you, but for a brief moment I thought you were pretty clever. You see, I took a moment to glance at my Spam mailbox for my Gmail account and scrolled through the 20 or so e-mails that had accumulated over the last week. All were very obviously spam, except for one. There was a spam message sent from my name. Now, I forward e-mail from different accounts to my Gmail and I also send myself messages, so I always have messages from myself in my inbox. Clever, I thought, you're really making an effort to get me to read these e-mails. Then I realized, NO, NOT CLEVER, I send all the e-mails to myself, I know which ones they are and when I sent them. Random spam with my name on them is a stupid idea because I obviously know whether or not it is from me! Stop that. Stop all the spam, no one likes you, you go to a special place where people don't even see you. Ever. And stop using my name, it just annoys me.

Sincerely,
Your #1 fan (briefly)

Dear Letter Jackets...

Dear Letter Jackets,

I know you go by many names... Letter Jacket, Letterman Jacket, Varsity Jacket... and that you come in many forms... felt jackets, felt jackets with leather sleeves, sweaters (as per the last scene of Grease)... All of this adds to your mystery; this strange quality that makes you an often-elusive, transient being in the lives of American teenagers. You are highly desired by many 13-18 year olds, yet only the academically/athletically/musically high-achieving students have the honor of your company. But then, as fast as you come into their lives, you are gone. You are sentenced to a back corner of the closet... alone. The moment a high school student graduates is the moment that you are no longer a coveted possession. Instead, you are merely a symbol of past adolescent prowess... of days gone by. But I want you to know, Letter Jackets, that you deserve to be worn again! Not only are you expensive, but you are a perfectly functional mid-weight jacket that would round out any wardrobe. Sure, your colors may be a bit bold and your two tone structure somewhat antiquated, but no one deserves to be relegated to the back of the closet when he has so much life left in him. I appreciate your service and to this date, 10 years after my high school graduation, I still wear you proudly. (well, not really... everyone would make fun of me... but I wish I could... I really wish I could)

Keep on truckin!
Your #1 fan

Dear Roger Federer...

Dear Roger Federer,

Seriously, Roger, does it get any better??? Four consecutive U.S. Opens, 12 Grand Slam titles, and a fan letter from me!!!

Watching you play is like poetry in motion. Your tennis is effortless and you make everyone else seem like a hack. Unless they beat you. In which case, they seem masterful. And you do it all without sleeveless shirts, on-court dramatics, and short pants. It is a pleasure watching you play. Thank you.

Sincerely,
Your #1 fan

Dear Heelys...

Dear Heelys,

I saw you this weekend at the grocery store. There was a kid rolling his way down the gently sloped parking lot to the car. I watched him go all the way down the hill, admiring how cool he looked and secretly hoping he'd hit a pebble or pot hole so I could see him trip. Not that I wanted the kid to get hurt, but it seemed unfair that I had to walk and he got to glide.

Reasons why I think you're great:
1. You defy the laws of English grammar... why aren't you Heelies? or Heely's? Oh, I know. It's because you're awesome.
2. Although I think you are hazardous to the health of anyone over 4 feet tall, I still want a pair.
3. Your promise FAME. Yes, FAME. Right there on your main page you list the things that members of your skate team will receive. First on that list is FAME.
4. "Freedom is a wheel in your sole"... ummm... just the best motto for a sneaker/skate ever!!! I feel all warm and fuzzy inside when I read it. And it makes me think that there is someone very clever and sarcastic working on your team.
5. Even though you only offer child sizes, you categorize your shoes into men's and women's.

Freedom is in my sole!
Your #1 fan

Dear Air Mattresses...

Dear Air Mattresses,

I think I might have slept on you once in middle school at a sleepover, but I don't really remember how that first meeting went. For the last week, however, you and I have been hanging out every night, and I must say, I'm very impressed! You inflate yourself, and you even come in the "elevated" variety so that I'm more than 6 inches off the floor when laying down! But, this has its ups and its downs. Mostly downs for me, since I have fallen off of you a few times. Twice in my sleep and a couple times while sitting on the edge. I don't blame you, I know it's my own fault for being an edge-of-bed sleeper, and I should know better than to try and sleep/sit on the edge of something squishy. And you think I'd learn, but I don't. Anyways, you are far preferable to sleeping on the floor or on a couch, and I think you would be way fun in a pool or at the beach!

Thanks for everything!
Your #1 fan

Dear Central Time Zone...

Dear Central Time Zone,



Growing up in the Eastern Time Zone, I was always kind of annoyed that TV stations would waste my time advertising for shows that were on at 10/9 central or such. I always thought that TV stations should understand that everything revolves around the Eastern Time Zone and automatically subtract that one hour. After moving to your area, Central Time Zone, I was reminded of how lame you are on New Year's Eve when we had to watch the ball drop in Times Square that was recorded an hour earlier! Boo!

Well, CTZ, it took some time, but I soon came to love that all the TV shows were on an hour earlier. I love my sleep, but I also love Conan, and when I am with you, CTZ, I can have both. I even like it that they say 10/9 central, so that we too can know what time shows will air without having to subtract 1.

Now, years later, I am in the ETZ again, and it is rocking my world. All the shows are on too late. I get sleepy and have to miss them. But really what I'm missing is you, CTZ. Can't wait to see you again!

Sincerely,
Your #1 fan