Reaction is the lifeblood of any journalist – we need to know that what we are doing is actually being read by someone, that we aren’t sending our words out into the ether.
Whenever anyone is moved to put down their thoughts on paper or send an e-mail in response to a column, it’s always heartening. You really feel that you’ve connected with the readership.
Not all letters or e-mails are complimentary, of course, but it’s good to engage with people, good to swap opposing points of view.
It is, however, a while since I’ve had such a thorough missive as landed on my desk this week, and it makes such excellent points I thought I should share it with you in full, verbatim, exactly as it was written in a very neat longhand: DEAR IDIOT MY-GOD-YOU-MUST-BE-A- DESPERATE-MAN.
WRITING-RUBBISH-LIKE-THIS!!
HAVE-YOU-GOT-NOTHING-BETTER- TO-WRITE-ABOUT!!
A-GROWN-MAN-WRITING-UTTER- RUBBISH!
GROW-UP-MAN!
ARE-YOU-RIGHT-IN-YOUR-HEAD.
YOU-EXPECT-GOOD-DECENT- BRADFORD-READER’S-TO-PUT-UP-WITH-THIS-DRIBBLE!!
AND-ITS-NOT-THE-FIRST-TIME.
YOUR-COLUME-EVERY-FRIDAY!!
WHAT-THE-HELL-ARE-YOU- PRATTLING-ON-ABOUT!
YOU-SHOULD-BE-LOCKED-UP-IN-A-MENTAL-HOSPITAL!!
MY-WIFE-SAID-TO-ME-HAVE-YOU-SEEN-THIS-RUBBISH!!
HE-CAN’T-BE-RIGHT-IN-THE-HEAD!
GROW-UP-IDIOT!!
The letter is accompanied by a cutting of the offending column with the words UTTER-RUBBISH-SHEER- CR*P!! written on top, little labels pointing to my picture saying IDIOT and FOOL!! and a nice postscript, just in case I haven’t yet got the message, that THE-MAN’S-A-IDIOT!!
The column (or COLUME, I suppose) which generated such ire was last week’s posting about the loss by my son Charlie of a prized golden Bumpee – just a disc of plastic, really, the latest playground craze for school children.
Not the sort of hugely-offensive piece to send someone swallow-diving off the deep end, you might think.
The fact remains, though, that I don’t really need to come to work just to be called an idiot. I can get that at home.
And I should point out that the letter was unsigned. I’ve already been in to the Editor about it, and asked him if the next time he sends me a memo, could he at least put his name to it.
Until next week, dear friends, this is A IDIOT signing off.
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