Mom...you're not NAKED, are you? A Collection of Humor by Donna Abear
After almost six years of writing my weekly humor column, “Life’s A Bear”, I decided that I had paid my dues. I was ready to join the ranks of the Rich and Famous, people who would more likely name their column “Life’s a Snap…Bring Me a Martini, Raul.”
Unfortunately, my bank balance wasn’t ready. It still read “FAT CHANCE”.
So, I began to think of ways to hit publishing paydirt.
First, I wrote a book called “Forest Gumbo” about this not-too-bright guy who kept making history by accident, but more than one person told me that not only was the title suspect, the story was also suspiciously similar to some movie called “Forrest Gump”.
Beats me…never heard of it.
Anyway, next I decided, “What the heck! Maybe I’m not rich and famous yet, but if I write a book about rich and famous people, I soon will be!”
This was by far my best idea, until I realized that I don’t KNOW any rich and famous people. And I have no idea how to contact them. Those folks must have a separate phone book.
I was almost out of ideas, when suddenly I remembered that all those writing magazines that I buy and deduct on my income tax every year always include the same piece of advice: “Write what you know.”
So, I asked myself, “What do I know?”
Hmmm…no book material there.
Finally, I was just about to forget the whole thing when I was throwing out some empty pop cans and noticed a strange word on the recycle bin: “RECYCLE”.
BINGO! A book idea was born. Instead of using up my brain’s precious resource of new words, which at my age is limited, I decided to recycle some old ones, and put together this collection of some of my favorite “Life’s A Bear” columns.
Besides, I’m sure there are at least one or two…MILLION people out there who never read them the first time.
By the way, the title, “Mom, You’re Not NAKED, Are You?”, came to me in a dream. At least, I think it came to me in a dream. Either that or it was the name of one of my columns and I thought the word “NAKED” would sell books.
Who knows? It’s all a blur. But, God willing, if I sell enough copies of this book, I can buy a new pair of glasses. And my husband promised that if I make enough money, I can call him “Raul”.
Now, if I could just figure out how to get in touch with Oprah…