In honor of Shane’s funny letter series on his blog (www.longstraighthighway.com — links still not working on this site), here is one of mine, sent to the Washington Post in December 2006.
Dear Editor,
During a holiday season where our country is at war, many issues fade to the background and appear trivial in comparison. I am not as concerned with receiving the right Christmas presents this year; I am simply happy that my family will be joining me for the holidays. Additionally, I chose to wrap the gifts I am giving this Christmas in old issues of The Washington Post (decorated with paint and stickers) to be environmentally friendly. My 20-year-old brother derisively called it “Kira’s Al Gore Christmas.” However, I was dismayed today by a problem that may initially seem trivial, but that I have decided, after much consideration, is off great importance. I am writing to you to express my heartfelt dismay and dissatisfaction at my Friday horoscope in The Washington Post. It read:
When it comes to love, there is no reciprocity in your
stars today. Someone loves you, you love someone
else, and that person loves a dog.
Seriously. A dog? What kind of horoscope is that?
Please, do not stop reading…allow me a moment to explain. I am a senior in college, and the real world is staring me in the face. Due to a refusal to acknowledge said real world, I am spending my holiday applying to graduate school. Personal statements, resumes, and other application paraphernalia can make an individual feel nearly worthless despite their academic and personal achievements. A difficult job market means a difficult market for graduate school. Speaking of the job market, I was recently informed by the Washington education firm where I have interned for the past two years that I would not be invited to return this holiday due to unspecified “budget issues.” I’ve been in Washington long enough to know what that means.
With all this weighing on me, I decided to turn today to the friendly advice of your horoscope advisor, Holiday Mathis. In my experience, horoscopes are either encouraging, or at least refreshingly dispirited. As a psychology major, I know that they normally subscribe to the so-called “Barnum effect” rather than the movement of the stars. Basically, this effect–named for the famous circus family–alludes to the fact that astrologists utilize general, vague, but well-written and clever statements to create information that could apply to many people. In turn, people project their own experiences and feelings onto the information and consider it to be accurate. I know this. I turned to my horoscope for comfort.
I got unrequited love, and a dog.
Please, dear editor. Speak to Ms Mathis and to the stars. Let her know that there are plenty of twenty-somethings out there dealing with the real world. There are plenty of middle-agers with unhappy love lives and dead end jobs. There are all kinds of people who turn to the horoscopes and the surrounding comics for a well-needed break. All we ask is for a horoscope that does what it is meant to do. Something like Aquarius got (”Whatever you do, your popular appeal makes it a hit”), or even Taurus (Just when you’re motoring on, troubling thoughts about the past could slow everything down.”) I can take gentle prodding to think positively. I can take vague assurances about an (admittedly non-existent) love life. But I cannot, will not, and should not have to take a love triangle that includes a canine.
Thank you for your kind attention, and happiest holidays to you and your own.
Sincerely,
Kira Walsh (Virgo)