I think I have dad's chin.
I’m tired of living a lie. I’ve kept quiet as long as I could, but the time has come to speak out. I suspect I am the secret love child of Dave Barry and Erma Bombeck.
I have long thought that my “parents” weren’t really my PARENTS. They are worthy people, no doubt. They can actually be pretty funny at times, but there’s none of that rapier-like writing wit that must, must be my heritage. I feel it in my bones!
My quest for the truth started in earnest when I began this blog just a few, short months ago. “You remind me of Dave Barry,” someone said. “You remind me of Erma Bombeck,” someone else said. Coincidence? Empty flattery? My own delusions of writing grandeur? I think not.
Surely this must mean that their blood flows in my veins!
I know what you’re thinking. Given the fact that he’s not much older than I am, Dave must have been a rather precocious child. To which I reply – who are you to judge him?
I’m not going to delve into Dave and Erma’s relationship. That is their business. I’m sure they had their reasons. I ask that all of you respect my parents’ privacy and not indulge in prurient speculation.
I don’t want to hurt anyone by this revelation. My foster parents, Bill and Mary (as I now call them), couldn’t have been more wonderful if I had truly been one of their own. (Although Bill and Mary aren’t big on the internet, I’m sure some “helpful” foster-sibling will bring this post to their attention in a blatant attempt to have me cut out of their will. I’m hoping this testimonial is enough to at least get me through the door at the next family event.)
All I want is the truth, and my just deserts after more than 50 years of silence.
To their acknowledged families I say, I’m not looking for fame or money. I don’t want a share of anybody’s estate (although many would say that was my due.) All I want is a chance to get to know my real family. My roots.
It is sad that I will never meet Erma Bombeck. The world lost a truly gifted writer when she passed. From all accounts, she was also a genuinely nice person.
But there’s still time for Dave Barry and me to get to know one another. We can have a meaningful relationship in our remaining years. And so I ask, if you’re reading this, Dave……
Dad……..
Can I borrow the keys to the Miami Herald tonight?
p.s. I sent a link to my blog to Dave Barry this morning – he shouldn’t be the last to know – and just got an email back:
Dear Peg -- Thanks! Erma and I are very proud. Best, Dave Barry
What a fun guy! Dear old dad…(fond sigh)
Peg-o-Leg's Ramblings 
Funny post. Thanks.
Good luck on the Post a Week goal for the year.
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Thanks!
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Are you by any chance the often-ignored middle “foster” child of Bill and Mary? I sense some sibling rivalry issues…
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There are so many of us that most are middle children, of varying degrees. But I bear them no ill-will.
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Good riddens! More room for me to be one of the “legitimate” middle children (one of a mere SEVEN total) of Mary and Bill!!!
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Oh yeah? Well, they’re writing you out of the will for not being able to spell after all the $$ they spent on your education. Good RIDDENS? Good GRIEF!
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Hey, I ahm a dam goode spellher, darn it!!
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By the way, I think you inherited Dave’s facial hair, as well! 😉
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Patience Grasshopper…you too will enter that special time in a woman’s life known as “the change” and you too will also have hairs spouting from your face. However, your eyesite will also be faltering so you may not be able to see them. Menopause is kind of neat that way!
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And your memory will be shot so you’ll forget you had the sprouts in the first place! You’re right, Jane. It really is a magical time (or so they tell me.)
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Wow, I can feel the familial love flowing – get me outta here!
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When you grow up in a family w/9 kids, you come by your aggression honestly. Merely survival skills.
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Okay, I know there is a very thin connective thread here between your post and my comment, but I did once see an actual Dave Barry column a few years back that mentioned (and helped call major attention to) a gonzo new holiday a couple guys dreamed up called “International Talk Like A Pirate Day” (it’s true, Sept.19th the world over, you can look it up!) … and my point is … YOUR moniker here is “peg-o-leg” … a mere coincidence?? I think not.
“If Dave Barry & Erma Bombeck had a child …” is going to be a great phrase to start off the back cover blurb when you publish your own funny book. Please put me down on the order-an-advance-copy list. Oh, and “arrrrggh” … that’s pirate talk for “thanks for the smiles”. (It’s Dave Barry’s fault that I know this.)
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I am much struck by the logic of your comment. Hmmm (sitting looking gravely thoughtful).
Arrrrgghh!
(if you’ll look in your pirate dictionary, you’ll see that with 2 hs, the word becomes “thanks for the kind remarks!”)
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Peg, correct me if I am wrong, but I believe I came up with the Peg-O-Leg nickname. Could this mean…. no!…. perhaps?? Maybe Dave is my pa as well!!!!!! We’ve gotta have a talk with Mary and Bill!
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No, Lib. All that means is that you are a pirate. My dad (Dave) isn’t the only pirate in the world, after all, as I think Paula’s comments here have shown.
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Love yer pirattitude, Pirate Peg Leg!
Here a link for ye olde Barry family archives:
http://www.miamiherald.com/2002/09/08/100129/arrrrr-talk-like-a-pirate-or-prepare.html
Avast,
Paula
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I’m going to tell the “foster parents” and get you out of the will-more for us! MKC
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You always WERE the suck-up child.
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Great post Peg. Smiles for Miles! Oprah just found a long lost sister. Could it be that maybe you are also an Oprah sib. Food for thought.
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I’ve always thought there was a resemblance. BTW, I want to point out that was a real email I got from Dave Barry, not me goofing around. Well, I was goofing around when I sent him the link to my post, but he actually replied! Isn’t that fun?
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Notice that pegoleg’s family has to constantly humor her. I’m so happy, Peg, that the “health center” has found a nice activity for you to engage in. And you seem so lucid, too!
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We’re making pasta necklaces tomorrow!
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