Hey, boys and girls! What time is it? It’s time for Answer Man! The show where we delve into inquiring minds and show you how little is on ours. Please note that all answers remain the exclusive property of the Yarbrough Worldwide Media and Pest Control Company located in Greater Garfield, Georgia, and may not be rebroadcast, retransmitted or refried without the expressed written consent of Major League Baseball. Let’s take our first question:
Dear Answer Man: My wife has indicated that she is interested in running for president of these, the United States of America. She has a wonderful role model in a former president who not only brought peace on Earth but also found a novel use for cigars. Does she have a chance? By the way, if this isn’t a convenient time for you, I can meet you on the airport tarmac and we can talk about this and our grandchildren. (Wink! Wink!)
Dear Awesome: This is America. The land of equal opportunity. Women can aspire to be anything they wish from president of these, the United States of America, to CEO of a major corporation to an entrepreneur, an astronaut or an astrophysicist. Just not a Southern Baptist preacher. However, given that I think I know who your wife is, the Baptists just might be right for once.
Dear Answer Man: This really isn’t a question. It is a fact. You are a terrible writer. You are ugly. You chew with your mouth open and your socks don’t match.
D.T. from NYC
Dear D.T.: Thank you for the observations. It could be worse. I could have orange hair.
Dear Answer Man: Those of us under the Gold Dome who are beholden to the nefarious, deep-pocketed special interest groups that fund our re-elections and write our legislation took umbrage at your characterization of us as “bark lickers” in one of your recent columns. Your implication was that we would lick the bark off a tree if told to do so by these selfless organizations that only have our best interests at heart. That is patently wrong. We would, however, lick their boots. Would you please correct your erroneous depiction of us? Somebody might accidentally read your column and get the wrong idea.
A Bunch of Boot-Licking Intrepid Public Servants
Dear BLIPS: Thank you for bringing that to my attention. Please accept my apology. I wouldn’t want anything to damage the deep mutual respect we have for one another.
Dear Answer Man: Do you go out of your way to offend people or does it just come naturally?
Coalition of Humor-Impaired Persons
Dear CHIPs: You obviously have me confused with someone else. I only offend supercilious liberals (or is that redundant?); right wingnuts; loud-talking Yankees; people who voluntarily choose to live in Malfunction Junction, aka the city of Atlanta, where the sewers don’t work and neither do a number of its citizens; You-Know-Where Institute of Technology athletic supporters and a guy in Acworth. And only because they deserve it.
Dear Answer Man: Do you believe that there is a heaven and when we die we will go there? We anxiously await your theological perspective.
A Group of Readers Deeply In Prayer
Dear DIPs: Yes, there is a heaven. It is called St. Simons Island but I hope nobody else shows up there — dead or alive. Developers will just use that as an excuse to cut down more trees and build more condos and mini-marts. That would be hell on Earth.
Dear Answer Man: Could you please verify that the University of Georgia is the oldest state-chartered university in the nation and is located in Athens, the Classic City of the South? I think I read that somewhere.
Dear Uga X: I am pretty sure that is still correct. By the way, did you know the University of Georgia also has had 23 Rhodes Scholars? I think I read that somewhere, too.
Oops, looking at the clock on the wall, I see we are out of time, boys and girls. I hope you will tune in next week when Answer Man will present a special report on how broccoli may be hazardous to your health and why banana pudding could be the only known cure. Thanks for being with us and always remember that Answer Man’s work is so secret, not even he knows what he is doing.