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Abstract

d over the phone like I was?</p><p id="da3a" type="7">How about this: Try to picture Ivanka, the object of her creepy father’s even creepier lust, punching a time clock! That will happen around the same time I start flying jets.</p><p id="709d">Maybe I’m being overly sensitive. I mean, if I could make my own sea salt while basking under the Mediterranean sun, wouldn’t I bleat about it later? Shit, no. I would not.</p><p id="1c29">So you know, the column’s focus was on scent and how it evokes particular memories. Here is the passage that set me off:</p><p id="d741"><i>When I was in Spain this summer, we sun-dried our own sea salt in Majorca, then went to a little shop near where we ate dinner to buy flor de sal harvested from the same Ses Salines salt flats. When I popped open the can — later back at home, my kids shouted, “it smells like Majorca!”</i></p><p id="c3f4">“Gee, kids! How cool is that? Know what? Get outta here”</p><p id="d35c">For those of us who don’t vacation in Majora, <i>flor de sal</i> means Salt Flower. Now, is it me, or is this type of self-important strutting gag-worthy?</p><p id="0c73">I’m not so offended by the message as much as I am by the way it was conveyed. As if the messenger had no clue of the disparity around her and the reality that people are struggling to make ends meet, for God’s sake. Struggling to feed themselves and their families. Working for minimum wage.</p><p id="051d">I get that this magazine is about beauty, not our country’s economy but all I can say is, the salaries must be pretty damned good.</p><p id="22b4">We, as writers, understand that words are powerful and the <i>way</i> in which we say things is as important, or maybe more so, as <i>what</i> we’re putting out into the world. I’ve learned this particular lesson the hard way. More than once.</p><p id="d5bd">Admittedly, I’m particularly sensitive in that I haven’t received an actual paycheck in almost two years. And I’m better than that. Much better, yet I can’t seem to catch a break. So, where someone else might read the editorial and think of it as “aspirational,” I think, “WTF?” Just as I do when I see TV commercials touting luxury automobiles as holiday gifts. What world are we living in?</p><p id="8d58">This is what doesn’t compute: While the editor raves about her kids raving about Majorca, there are other, less privileged children starving in this country. Their parents would love to afford a bus ticket, let alone a first-class airline ticket to Spain.</p><p id="f2ee">A little empathy for others, folks. That’s all I’m asking.</p><p id="184a">According to <i>nokidhungry.org</i>, in the United States, one in seven children lives with hungry. The bigger picture: According to the U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA), more than eleven hundred children in our country live in “food insecure homes,” which means the family members don’t get enough to eat in order to live in a manner that’s deemed “healthy.”</p><p id="7845">Maybe the editor should set her cannister of DIY sea salt aside and chew on these stats:</p><p id="1300"><b>Over 4.5 million U.S. kids live in food deserts and lack access to grocery stores with fresh fruits and vegetables.</b></p><p id="742e"><b>On average, children in rural areas are more likely to experience food insecurity and lack access to quality health services.</b></p><p id="7f6a"><b>Close to 1 in 3 American children are overweight or obese, and obesity in children has more than tripled over the past 35 years, putting children at higher risk for serious, even life-threatening health problems.</b></p><p id="a02e"><b>In communities where Save the Children works, an average of 59 percent of children do not have access to fresh, healthy foods; in some areas, it’s as much as 98 percent.</b></p><p id="bc2d">Here’s more self-satisfied bunk from the editorial:</p><p id="c1b6"><i>In (country), last summer, my daughter and I treated ourselves one afternoon to tea at the (uber-luxe) hotel. Now, the scent of not only jasmine tea but also jasmine fragrances brings me half a world away to that fancy dining room, nibbling on tiny sandwiches

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and cakes.</i></p><p id="0408">Again, maybe I’m being unfair and bristly. But the manner in which this was written is offensive, in my humble opinion. Plus, the older I get, the less idiocy I can tolerate.</p><p id="712b">Maybe if she’d included some type of giveaway to the first fifty readers who wrote back via email, describing their favorite scents and what they evoked for them. Jasmine fragrance oil could be the giveaway. I don’t know.</p><p id="7d81">Perhaps this editor should stick to writing about lip conditioners and designer perfumes and the wonders of glycolic acid. Meanwhile, if the craving for a “tiny cake” should come upon her, she could always shove a Twinkie up her bum.</p><p id="444c">I’d like to thank <a href="undefined">Helen Cassidy Page</a> for her input here. She gave me the virtual slap upside the head that I needed. But, sweetly.</p><p id="6d7e"><i>Sherry McGuinn is a slightly-twisted, longtime Chicago-area writer and award-winning screenwriter. Her work has appeared in The Chicago Tribune, Chicago Sun-Times and numerous other publications. Sherry’s manager is currently pitching her newest screenplay, a drama with dark, comedic overtones and inspired by a true story.</i></p><p id="2284">As always, I appreciate your reading. If you’re up for more:</p><div id="974d" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/haiku-how-to-51d0685c1ad6"> <div> <div> <h2>Haiku How-To</h2> <div><h3>A primer for the sexually inquisitive.</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*yQwyx3SGkE3-oZlWW1dC9g.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><div id="654f" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/did-i-fail-my-mother-3323d4907780"> <div> <div> <h2>Did I Fail My Mother?</h2> <div><h3>All the things I should have said, and didn’t.</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*IBboE8lKu9O0Q4Ga0aEGhQ.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><div id="9067" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/the-hot-women-of-medium-c66515ba6bbe"> <div> <div> <h2>The Hot Women of Medium</h2> <div><h3>Smart, funny, gutsy and SMOKIN’!</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*sUDy3LYDjjZKQqXsMfyptQ.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><div id="1a63" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/ive-never-received-1k-claps-b1dd0d9c56b9"> <div> <div> <h2>I’ve Never Received 1K Claps</h2> <div><h3>Wounded…and wondering.</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*zAfXUminR_ELCNKW8Ppsgw.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><div id="11fc" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/its-official-i-m-an-a-hole-347624d73cd7"> <div> <div> <h2>It’s Official: I’m an A-Hole</h2> <div><h3>“Medium Madness” has me by the throat.</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*r4v7h4lCPyj7liblwp-GNQ.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div></article></body>

Letters to the Mill

Yes, We Still Receive Letters

Ttradition dictates that at the start of the season we publish a selection of letters we received over the Winter. We do this keenly aware of several facts; that people don’t send letters anymore, that McSweeney’s took “letters” to the moon and back, and that Medium doesn’t allow us to format the letters the way we would like. Still, we persist, for in our opinion the best way to rectify a mistake in the past is to continue doing the same thing year after year so that it looks less like a mistake and more and more like a pathology.

Dear Sirs,

I’m not really sure why I am being so universally ignored. I just did a Google Image Search (GIS) and the results were exceedingly paltry. If it wasn’t for the bear I’d have almost no presence on the Internet at all. People seem to miss the fact that I got the bear because I was one of the earliest members of #teamdog. While I know the LBGTQ community has their pick of the literary litter, I believe I should at least get a mention. Add to that the fact that I gave birth to the first programmer, had my #metoo moment at age 9, and played in the first Eton v. Harrow cricket match with a bad foot, quite an achievement given the suffocating ableism of the time. Furthermore, my quote:

I awoke one morning and found myself famous.

Is very “of the now”. Don’t you agree? What, da fuk?

Sincerely,

Lord Byron

Dear Mr. Byron,

You’re here, aren’t you? It might not be much of an Internet presence but we, the editors of Mr. Mildew Omnimedia, are happy to still be picking over your bones in 2018. You may be aware of the fact that we do so as a homage to National Lampoon’s letter’s section, which often corresponded with you, but that doesn’t detract from the fact that here you are. We would also like to point out that there is a character named Pam on a animated show called “Archer” who has the third stanza of The Destruction of Sennacherib on her back.

Why she has that on her back instead of “Though I love my country, I do not love my countrymen” is anyone’s guess.

Sincerely,

The Editors

Yo Mildew,

This shit is amaze-balls, I kid you not. Sunflower seeds, corn, peanuts, millet… you could toggle back on the millet a bit… sometimes there are even little pieces of fruit! And then, when it runs out, you come out and fill them up again! FUCKING BEAUTIFUL, MAN. You know how hard it is to eat like this in the wild? It takes hours of breaking open pinecones at the tops of trees to gather the two cheekfuls we can get “at the tubes” in less than a minute. You have no idea what a bonanza this is for us.

Oh yea, the dog. We love the dog. That goofy fucker keeps it fun.

Peace, Bra,

The Squirrel-bros at your feeder

Dear Cucks,

We know it is you trolling the Fox News boards. Maybe instead of collecting welfare and food stamps you should move out of your mom’s snowflake padded cupcake parlor and get a job. I thank God for Donald Trump and am so glad that he is able to destroy everything that the Kenyan Community Organizer and his plutonium selling FELON wingwoman tried to do. Hope to see you and George Soros at the next gun show. I’ll be strapped.

Yours,

RussoBot226

Dear Retired FauxNews Viewer,

The only thing dumber than watching Fox News is posting on the news boards run by Outbrain. Here is the secret Rupert Murdock, the Australian media mogul who shapes your brain, doesn’t want you to know: “Fox and Friends” aren’t your friends. You don’t have any friends.

Sincerely,

Russobot226

Dear Omnimedia,

For a long time, I’ve wondered, where is Gutbloom? Did that guy leave the Medium platform? I have to admit I was bummed. I was like, “shit, I like to read what that guy wrote.”

While I’m glad you are back, I have to admit that I am six letters into this post and I wish you would stop. Really, it’s OK.

You can stop now.

Sincerely,

Your Readers

To Whom It May Concern,

Please cancel our subscription to Cat Obsession and refund the pro-rated balance of our subscription by U.S. Postal money order. Our institution, the Frost Free Library, will not tolerate the kind of exploitation of people and fish you parade in your annual “special issue” called Naked Women in Swim Fins and Football Helmets. Your unwanted magazine, which we were more than happy to throw out, is an abomination. Not only should you be ashamed, you should get some help.

Sincerely,

The Librarians

Dear Gutbloom et al.,

How long are you going to run this gag of school-marm librarians wagging their Puritanical fingers at you? When was the last time you went to a library? I’m glad I endured the rigor of the Simmons’ Library and Information Science Program so that I could be characterized as a blue-haired moralist shusshing homeless people while trying to read the latest Nora Roberts’ novel. Maybe you should stop by some time. You may be surprised to find that I, your local information scientist:

  • Am transgender
  • Have Quequeg’s tattoos of the universe covering my face
  • Only subscribe to digital magazines, which our patrons read on loaned iPads, and, therefore, never received a copy of Naked Women in Swim Fins and Football Helmets to throw out.
  • Joined the online boycott of your publishing house not because of the stupidity or offensiveness of your moronic issue but because of what your photographer did to the shark
  • Wrote all this on Twitter but was afraid you’d never see it so I called my grandmother to ask how I might get you to hear me
  • Have a French Bulldog named Buster beneath my feet here in the library kiosk.

In short, go away.

No, you can’t use the bathroom unless you have a library card.

No, we don’t have “tax forms”. We haven’t for a decade. You go online and print them out yourself like everyone else who isn’t senile.

Hope you find the card catalog you’re looking for,

Dewey

Dear Mr. Mildew,

We noticed you didn’t take your morning medication this morning. You also need to buy milk. We don’t tell you this because we care, we’re telling you this because your erratic behavior is fucking up our data sets and our ability to predict which scams you’ll fall for.

Sincerely,

Cambridge Analytica

Dear Sirs and Ma’ams,

How do you know that you don’t want to read “A Wake-Up Call for Tech Managers?” Have you ever read it? No? We thought not.

Maybe “10 Cheat Codes for A Better Sex Life” and “How I Made $200,000 When I was 16” will change your life for the better. Ever think about that?

Sincerely,

The Algorithm Team at Medium

Gutbloom,

The Algorithm team are not your friends. We are your friends.

Sincerely,

Your Friends at Medium

Dear Gutbloom,

You should stop. This is embarassing. You should stop.

Sincerely,

The Staff at McSweeney’s

P.S. People who graduated from the Simmons’ Information Science program don’t make egregious grammar mistakes. Neither do we.

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