Mister Fanboy is back after a long hiatus (it involved the Negative Zone, Adavan, and She-Hulk – don’t ask). We return today with a letter from a concerned parent. We’re sure her son wished we would have changed the names to protect his rep in school, but then what about our journalistic integrity?
Dear Mister Fanboy (if that is indeed your real name. I hope to God I don’t see you on Dateline and learn it was really Fan of Little Boys):
My name is Becky Lee Ann Summers. I am a 30-something mother of three – Mikhail, 13, Rajiv, 9 and Latonya, 6. Yes, you surmised correctly. Because of my husband Dan’s “problem,” we have adopted three ethnically diverse children. Why our little split-level out in the suburbs is a living and breathing Rainbow Coalition. Jesse Jackson (or is that Al Sharpton?) would be so proud. We live in suburban Tampa where all 3 of my children attend Our Lady of the Sea Catholic School (Go Fightin’ Tuna!). I am a homemaker who spends much of my free time (if there is such a thing for a mom in the 21st Century) volunteering with the local library teaching Cuban émigré’s how to speak English. They’ve only been here for 40 years, but I think they’re getting the hang of it. My husband Dan works for the state department of transportation as an Assistant Director for Accounting Services for the West Central Division’s Central Actuarial Office. We work hard to project a level of WASP-ish Catholicism in our domestic affairs, but still presenting a progressive exterior. I mean, look at our Ford Expedition’s new "I Love Mother Earth" bumper sticker! It shows we really care. However, I would never vote for that Hillary. Just look at her hair! As if I need to know anything else about her. Enough about me. Dan says I can go on and on about me and never get to the point. That Dan, he’s such a kidder. I mean, he keeps threatening to drive right into the lake just so he could stop my "yammering." Anyway, there is a reason I am writing to you.
Mikhail, our oldest, born to a Ukrainian prostitute on the outskirts of Chernobyl, is a big fan of your site (which, quite frankly, makes no sense to Jenny Abrogast, his English Lit tutor, who finds your writing trite, formulaic, and pedantic. And juvenile. She wouldn’t want me to forget juvenile.). Mikhail is also a huge fan of comics, which we encourage because it keep him preoccupied. Now, we realize that Mikhail is at that age where he is experiencing changes in his body. Why he’s becoming a little man just before my every eyes … it’s like every mother’s dream (sob!). I’m okay. Just give me a moment to compose myself.
While cleaning his room a few weeks ago, I found last season’s JC Penny’s and Sear’s catalogs under his bed, surrounded by a sea of wadded up used tissues. Of course, I cleaned up the mess throwing everything away. This got me suspecting that he was doing drugs. I mean, why else would he seemingly waste tissues? So that night I barged into his room, under a false “mommy pretext” as I like to call them, and surprised my son ... “pleasuring himself.” Dan thinks it’s normal. (Of course he would, he’s Canadian!)
And what do I see in his hands? No, not that! None other than this picture from an upcoming comic book, which he printed off of the internet.
Here it is again for your convenience. Look at this trash. But what does it really mean? I knew I needed help in interpreting the meaning of this objectionable material. I'm just a mom. How would I know?
So I consulted Drusilla
Alpenglow, or at least that’s what she calls herself now that she’s taken her Celtic name and joined her secretive Earth First commune. Or something. I do have trouble keeping it all straight ever since I went on this new prescription. Drusilla works at the local comic shop and leads a women’s studies
roundtable Tuesday nights at Ye
Olde Coffee Shoppe, followed by bowling. I mean, I never attended one of these "round tables," except for the one at the
Medieval Village Theme Park, but I am sure they are interesting and she says all of the right things.
Upon seeing the image, Drusilla went into hysterics. A-ha, I thought. Someone who sees the danger of this. But then she began to scare me. Honestly, she was babbling left and right and I could only get fragments out of her:
Boob Job … Breast augmentation …. Defies gravity … Objectifies women … Ruining the character … Power Girl is a character all about female empowerment and not cheesecake …
To be sure, I don’t know what she was talking about. I mean, who
doesn’t like cheesecake? Truth be told, I was also concerned about the message the woman wearing fishnets was sending
Rajiv and
LaTonya, my two youngest. Because as we all know, along with fishnets comes teenage pregnancy.
Then suddenly, Jimmy, one of Drusilla’s coworkers ,walked by. Pausing to look at the extraordinarily "busty" woman on the cover, he declared that she looked hotter than ever and that with her new “look” he was sure to buy that issue. Drusilla screamed up and down about sex selling and minds being corrupted. To be honest, all of that nonsense gave me a headache. Thanks god for my HEAD-ON (I hate their commercials, but I just LOVE their product!). She blamed some faceless multinational corporation. I mean, really, it got a little out of hand. Who could believe that a company like
Wal-Mart would be bad?
Sheesh.
I, on the other hand, think all ofthis has something to do with the terrorists. Although I can’t prove it, I’
ve got my eyes peeled. So why am I writing you? As I mentioned, my family is my life. Dan calls it an obsession, but he likes to watch soccer on TV so what does he know. I am writing you in the tried and true vein of the letter to the editor. In the past, my letters have praised our leaf blowing citizens and demanded an end to light pollution in the desert thousands of miles away from here. I implore you to
publicly post this letter so that other concerned citizens know there are others who feel like them.
Sincerely,
Becky Lee Ann Summers
Tampa, FL
Well thanks there Becky. Were not quite sure what your point is but we were glad to share it with our readers.