I have so much to say to you, I don’t even know where to start!!
My birthday was just a couple weeks ago and my daughters bought me a Carol Burnett Show Limited Edition DVD Collection of Favorites Chosen by Carol Herself. I was thrilled! Well, the name was a little long for my liking, but still, overall – thrilled.
Because of this, you’ve been on my mind a lot and I wanted to write to you.
One thing I’ve realized — you know that game where someone says “You can have dinner with anyone, alive or dead. Make your choice.” Have you ever played that? Well, in the past, I’ve always just responded “I pick DEAD!” because that way I could do all the talking over dinner. People kind of annoy me so I thought dead was a safer option, plus I like to talk a lot. But — at the gym this week, I realized it’s YOU! You are the one person I would love to have dinner with.
God, I hope you like Red Lobster.
I grew up watching your stuff . Your show was my favorite show on television and now that I have this DVD (don’t make me type that awful, horrendous title out again!), I’ve been watching some of the episodes and… well, there’s no other way to say it – CAROL – I MISS YOU!
I am definitely not one of those creepy stalker people. It’s not like I’ve kept up with your every move over the years, but occasionally you show up in the news or on an episode of Law & Order. It occurs to me that I fell in love with you in your career prime and you have managed to age into your golden years with a tone of dignity and integrity and I respect the hell out of that.
Carol, I’m glad you don’t look like a team of plastic surgeons worked you over. Thank God for that.
I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up. I’m 48 and I’m trying to figure it out. I do know that it includes writing and speaking and humor. I thought maybe if we could go to Red Lobster, I could ask your advice, because while I was watching that ridiculously-named DVD, it occurred to me that you didn’t get your show while in your 20s. I’m not sure how old you were and I’d hate to guess, but could be that you didn’t peak until your 40s. Could be.
I’m in Procurement, Carol. You might not even know what that means, but it’s the corporate equivalent of your mop-and-bucket job. I gotta figure out how to turn that into something more fulfilling before I’m too damn old to care any more. Holy shit, this just got a little too serious… let’s steer it back to lighter topics, OK?
Even if you don’t want to be a career advisor to me, the Cheddar Bay Biscuits are TO DIE FOR. I imagine people like you probably don’t get to Red Lobster too often. Let me bring the middle class to you, Carol. Over the years, you brought me so much joy – Cheddar Bay Biscuits are the least I could do to pay you back. We’ll have some laughs. I promise I won’t ask you to do your Tarzan yell.
Well, I won’t take up too much more of your time. Let me know if you want to go to the Lobster.
ps: I was going to make an open letter to Erma Bombeck because she is my humor-writing idol, but she’s also dead. I’m not calling you First Runner Up or anything – I loved you BOTH equally – you filled different spaces on my idol dance card. Still, I figured I had a better shot writing to you because of the whole not-dead-yet thing.
ps2: Could you and your old cast and Betty White do some sort of special? I love Betty White too, so I just needed to work her in there.
ps3: I’m funny. You can take my word or you can go read my tweets. Might be better if you take my word.