LETTERS

Dear Las Vegas Weekly,

Shouldn't you at least have credited National Lampoon's famous cover ("with apologies to ... ?????"). Sure, the phrase has almost become a cliche now, but I'll bet most of your readers weren't alive to see the Lampoon in the early 1970s, and they should know it's not an original idea.

Editor's Note:
By all means, yes, we were inspired by the well-known National Lampoon cover.

Dear Las Vegas Weekly,

I was just handed by my co-worker the column Wink written by Sonja. Since I have had fun "girl talking" with the darling Sonja in the past, but have never read her work, I was curious. I just want to say: Sonja ... please give Ben my e-mail address. This redhead could get him to the altar.

Ciao!

My Dear Nora,

It has just struck me. I came in at half past eleven. Since then I have been sitting in an easy chair like a fool. I could do nothing. I hear nothing but your voice. I am like a fool hearing you call me "Dear." I offended two men today by leaving them coolly. I wanted to hear your voice, not theirs.

When I am with you I leave aside my contemptuous, suspicious nature. I wish I felt your head on my shoulder. I think I will go to bed.

I have been a half-hour writing this thing. Will you write something to me? I hope you will. How am I to sign myself? I won't sign anything at all, because I don't know what to sign myself.

Dear Madam,

I have been shown in the files of the War Department a statement of the Adjutant General of Massachusetts that you are the mother of five sons who have died gloriously on the field of battle.

I feel how weak and fruitless must be any word of mine which should attempt to beguile you from the grief of a loss so overwhelming. But I cannot refrain from tendering you the consolation that may be found in the thanks of the Republic they died to save.

I pray that our Heavenly Father may assuage the anguish of your bereavement, and leave you only the cherished memory of the loved and lost, and the solemn pride that must be yours to have laid so costly a sacrifice upon the altar of freedom.

Yours, very sincerely and respectfully,

"The post-office is a wonderful establishment! The regularity and despatch of it! If one thinks of all that it has to do, and all that it does so well, it is really astonishing! So seldom that any negligence or blunder appears! So seldom that a letter, among the thousands that are constantly passing about the kingdom, is even carried wrong— and not one in a million, I suppose, actually lost! And when one considers the variety of hands, and of bad hands too, that are to be deciphered, it increases the wonder."