by Phil Goldstein | NorthFortyNews.com
When I’m not writing about precious pets and fascinating families for an area lifestyle magazine, I get to write more meaty stuff, including satire, here in North Forty News and elsewhere. Satire and its close cousin, lampooning, are my first literary loves. And while reader response to the puppy and people stories in that magazine has been gratifying, for some of my spoofing stuff, the feedback has occasionally been… well, let’s just say those stories bring interesting stories.
Some of those reactions to my work is because I take for granted that readers understand that the satirical, farcical and even facetious articles I write are not necessarily to be taken at face value. But occasionally, readers’ comments indicate otherwise. In other words, they don’t know that even if the shoe fits, they don’t have to wear it.
Relatedly, with some of my work I’ve inadvertently tested the bounds of what one can and can’t put in writing these days. This feedback involves publications’ editors, who approve my work before it gets to you. I don’t set out to push the envelope; it’s just that figuring out what’s socially and politically acceptable these days keeps getting harder.
To illustrate how wrong my assumptions have been at times about readers’ perceptiveness and/or editors’ discretion, I’m sharing five examples from past writings in NFN and elsewhere that illustrate how I may need to be more careful hereafter. Decide for yourself if my prudence is warranted.
First and foremost, I’ve got to be more careful when writing about marriage, specifically mine. On the occasion of our 25th wedding anniversary, I wrote a facetious (or so I thought) look at matrimony which included this observation: To avoid discordant domestic discourse, I’ve learned a more prudent means of asking her opinion on some matters. No longer do I express my opinion first then ask hers. Now I innocently raise the issue, ask her what she thinks, then heartily concur. Upon reading this, a neighbor chastised me for “patronizing disrespect” for my spouse. What could I say but, “I suggest you look up the definition of satire.”
The next example illustrates how easy it is to offend someone these days. I drafted a New Year’s resolutions column which included this pledge to my wife: To Amy, I promise I’ll not play my drums when you’re sleeping if you’ll not play the Kardashians when I’m sleeping. The publication’s (not NFN!) editor struck that line with this note: “That’s offensive to the Kardashians.” Never mind that said famous-for-being-famous celebs would have only found my article in the free publication box outside the Timnath, Colorado post office. I guess I should have been flattered that the Kardashians had time to read my stuff.
Then there was the column I wrote as my favorite special date, April 1st, was approaching. By way of April foolery, I wrote a story about an exciting new endeavor coming to Timnath: the Swetsville Zoo was becoming a real zoo with the Poudre River serving as the aquatic venue. Among the ‘gotchas’ with that one was the then-mayor.
I once wrote a column about the All About Me Game, my tongue-in-cheek look at the ease of keeping conversational narcissists thus engaged. That work brought a scathing admonishment from a reader insisting that I needed counseling—spiritual no less—for only finding fault with people. Taking the apparently well-meaning intent of that critique seriously, I went out of my way to explain how satire worked and that I hoped the reader might check out some Mark Twain. But I guess he didn’t buy it because we’re now off his party list.
Finally, showing that even members of my publication teams don’t get my style, there was another editor (again, not NFN!) who insisted on a rewrite to what I thought was a perfectly logical play on words in a column about my musical tastes. I offered: The state of popular music has been all downhill since Led Zeppelin took us up that Stairway to Heaven in 1971. She said she didn’t get it, hence the readers wouldn’t get it. The result: the seasoned publisher cautioned the young and inexperienced editor about cultural and creative cluelessness. But then, she doubled down and nixed another column’s statement that I find New Belgium Brewery’s Tour de Fat to be a religious experience. The publisher, also a TDF devotee, found another editor.
Thanks for reading, and keep those useful comments coming in.
Phil Goldstein is in his sixth year writing Tales from Timnath for North Forty News. Phil is a 16-year Timnath resident who is finally using his West Virginia University journalism degree after getting sidetracked 53 years ago. The views expressed herein are Phil’s only. Contact him with comments on the column at [email protected].