An open letter to Dave Barry regarding I’ll Mature When I’m Dead: Dave Barry’s Amazing Tales of Adulthood.
Dear Dave Barry,
I wanted to send you a letter expressing my sincerest gratitude for the existence of your book, I’ll Mature When I’m Dead: Dave Barry’s Amazing Tales of Adulthood. Your piece of literary genius has truly opened my eyes. Less than forty pages in, and I already feel incredibly compelled to express my feelings to you.
Firstly, thank you ever so much for explaining the concept of DNA to me. As a woman, I am obviously motivated solely by my naturally nurturing disposition, and I had no idea that men are so simplistically (and logically) driven by their dandelion-like urges. Since these urges, such as checking out the breasts of every woman they pass, and to copulate with absolutely everything with a vagina, are controlled entirely by their DNA, they are obviously not at fault if they act on such urges. In fact, we should applaud the efforts of such men, because they (as the rational sex) are simply obeying nature. They are doing what they are supposed to do.
Secondly, I am endlessly grateful that you so clearly and simply differentiated between men and women. After reading these first forty pages, I realize that this dichotomy is absolutely perfect, and that men and women can be categorized only by their physical sex. Their DNA dictates them, obviously! It was so, so, so, so silly of me to assume otherwise. Obviously, as your book proves, everyone, in the world, fits neatly into these dichotomous categories. I feel so embarrassed for the way that I used to think before; like that some folks do not identify their gender in accordance with their physical sex, or that some people are sexually attracted to people of the same gender! Ridiculous. Absurd. Your book has taught me the truth. Clearly, your dichotomous division is much more accurately reflective of the world we live in.
So thank you, Mr. Barry, for publishing your words. If only I had read your book four years ago! I would not have wasted my time and tuition money becoming educated in college. It was obviously a waste of my time, because my real life-calling is to be a nurturing caretaker. As a woman, that is the absolute best I could ever do.
Excuse me, for I must now be off to book the birthday parties of my unborn children, and to begin searching through stores for the perfect shoe ensembles for my babies. You have made me aware of my destined path. I will begin preparation for my heteronormative life with my future husband, who, as you taught me, will surely love beer and football, and will be repulsed by me post-pregnancy, and who will listen to me only in order to solve problems. The foremost of which, as you said, is getting me naked so that he can spew his dandelion seeds into my elephant uterus.
Thank you. I am endlessly grateful.