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FeaturesJune 22, 2001

Don't get me wrong. I could write a real column this week if I wanted to. But it's time to get rid of this stack of letters, e-mails, voice mail and messages written with words cut out of old magazines and pasted on grocery sacks. So here goes: Q. Mr. ...

Don't get me wrong. I could write a real column this week if I wanted to.

But it's time to get rid of this stack of letters, e-mails, voice mail and messages written with words cut out of old magazines and pasted on grocery sacks.

So here goes:

Q. Mr. Sullivan, I am a young journalist who aspires to be the best in the business. In fact, I want to be just like you. I read your column every week on the Southeast Missourian's Web site, and it's the best thing in print anywhere. Believe me, it really is. Right before I graduated from college, I showed some of your columns to my professor of world literature, and she said she couldn't imagine why you don't have a book on the New York Times best-seller list. She uses your columns all the time in her classes, and her students are the best college writers in the country. Believe me, they really are. Mr. Sullivan, is there any way I could come to work for you at the Southeast Missourian? My career aspiration is to be a columnist for a big newspaper somewhere like Moline, Ill., or maybe even Puyallup in my home state of Washington. Believe me, I just know that learning from you would be the ticket. So what about it, Mr. Sullivan? Do you think you could ever see your way clear to give me a shot on the finest newspaper in the Midwest, possibly west of the Mississippi River? Believe me, you have no idea what this would mean to me.

P. B, Pullman, Wash.

A. Dear P.B. Believe me, if you have $10,000 or something of equal value to bribe me with, I'll give your request serious consideration.

Q. Hey, Joe, this is your old buddy, E-Mail Steve. I hope you don't mind getting 60 or 70 e-mails a day from me. I know they spice up your day. How come you never reply? I thought you would get a kick out those last 20 or 30 about my ingrown toenail. Don't you think you owe me the courtesy of replying once in a while? It takes a lot of time and effort to send you all those e-mails. The least you could do is let me know what you think now and then. Would that be any skin off your nose?

E-Mail Steve,Cape Girardeau.

A. Dear Steve. First, let me say ... . Oops, there goes that darn delete button.

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Q. Dear Editor Sullivan: I recently had occasion to meet you in person, and you're not anything like your picture or the columns you write. As a matter of fact, if I just met you on the street and had never seen your picture or read your column, I'd think you were just another white-haired, grumpy senior citizen. Don't you ever smile? I think your columns are halfway interesting sometimes, which is the only reason I bother to read them in the first place. Besides, I have a lot of time on my hands ever since you dropped the daytime TV listings, which means I don't have a clue what to watch. I must say your column is a poor substitute for Maury Povich. Couldn't you at least write about dogs -- I'm especially fond of collies -- once in a while?

E. M, Jackson, Mo.

A. Dear E.M: I am halfway flattered that you read my columns at all. I am smiling in that picture. I laughed once, but I didn't care for it all that much. "Maury" is on at 4 p.m. every afternoon, day after day, week after week, year after year. And I think it was the wonderful Will Rogers who said something like: "I never met a dog I liked."

Q. Joe, what's this crazy rumor going around that you got a BB gun for Father's Day? Tell me someone just made that up. Aren't you a little old for toys? What a hoot!

Bobby K., Potosi, Mo.

A. Dear Bobby: Good to hear from you again. I'm still shaking my head over our last telephone conversation when you told me about your parole hearing. I hate to say I told you so, but I reminded you over and over that the parole board wouldn't take kindly to your career ambition of shooting animals whose time has run out at the city pound to save on vet bills. I thought that was overboard, Bobby, and I don't even like dogs (see above). In response to your question, let me first say that it's not a BB gun. It's an air rifle. And it's not a toy. I know that because that's what it says on the box as well as in the comic-book safety instructions. You might also be interested in knowing that I also got an electronic scope for the air rifle, which has proven to be accurate within a sixteenth of an inch at 25 feet. I'm having a lot of fun with my air rifle (made by the company that supplies the official air rifles to the U.S. Olympic team). It's the first time I've ever used one, since my mother wouldn't let me have one when I was growing up, and I wouldn't let our sons have one either. My mother still thinks it's never too late to shoot your eye out. And my sons now have their deepest and darkest fears about me confirmed. Keep in touch, Bobby. And remember, good behavior is the backbone of early release.

Q. Hey, Buster. If you think that Downtown Golf Course is ever going to get built, you've got another think coming. It's toast, just like that dadgum River Campus they keep talking about. Why don't you get something new to write about instead of boring us all to tears (boo-hoo) about fairways on barges and Broadway musicals at the old seminary?

R.R., Cape Girardeau.

A. Dear R.R. My name isn't Buster. Not anymore.

~R. Joe Sullivan is the editor of the Southeast Missourian.

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