Dear Bob Odenkirk-
I just received a copy of your memoir “Comedy Comedy Comedy Drama” that you were so nice to autograph. I’m sure you remember since you likely sign hundreds of items each week. My book is special since you also wrote that you are reading my blog. While I doubt this is actually true, (it’s ok, I’ve been hurt before), I figured it would be highly amusing to take a shot at a genuine thank you note just in case that you weren’t full of shit and you are actually reading these words along with my thousands of other loyal readers. I should write a thank you to them, but this is much more fun because I can just make stuff up and see if you actually answer. In sweetening the pot, if you do email me (pmoes@comcast.net) I’ll post your reply as long as it’s PG-13 or lower. Now, my NORMAL readers…no pretending to be BOB and sending me a message UNLESS you are very very creative.
When I was a kid, I discovered that music and drumming were my passions. It took me a long time to realize that these were also great vehicles to meeting women, but more about that later. In grade 7, I was introduced to the music of Rush, the Canadian power trio excelling in lengthy and complex musical compositions called “prog rock.” You know this since a Rush poster appears briefly in an early episode of Better Call Saul in a dark alley while you are pulling a scam as Slippin’ Jimmy. (We Rush fans are nerds, but I’m too lazy to look up exactly which episode). Anyway, as a kid, I worshipped the playing of Rush drummer Neil Peart. In fact I still do, but as a youngster I read about him in drum magazines, air drummed in my bedroom and dreamed about meeting Neil. While reading about Neil (see, drum magazines = no girls yet) I wondered what would happen if I wrote him a letter to thank him for sharing his gift and talent with all of us up and coming rock stars. I dismissed the thought and scolded myself for being a nerd-boy-fan.
Years later, after seeing Rush live many times, and covering some Rush songs with my high school rock band (a little closer to meeting women, but not so many women Rush fans….still struggling with my game), I found out that pre-internet and by keeping things relatively quiet, Neil answered each and every fan letter BY HAND that was sent to him by young drummers around the world. Modern Drummer magazine ran a story about this and Neil was quoted as saying that he did this until word got out and he got too many letters to answer. A couple of lucky fans had their letters reprinted in the story (kid writes, Neil writes back, kid saves letter and gets published later. Colbert plays Bob plays Colbert who keeps asking Jim to show the movie clips…you get it no?)…Of course I thought DAMN, why didn’t I write to him? Well, someday I will make up for this. That day is today, and you are the realization of my childhood dream. OK, this whole thing is a stretch, but so is you discovering that I’m a funny bastard and hiring me to do….PR? A short sketch? The Return of Mr. Show? I hate telling the same joke twice…
Anyway, it’s intimidating to write an open letter to a writer who writes. What? I always kicked myself for not writing to Neil all those years ago, and so now I’m making it up and sending you this open letter as a distant second place. As I tell my middle school students….don’t think of it as second place….instead think of it as “first place loser!” I love building adolescent self-esteem.
In closing, thank you for sharing your gift(s) with us. The world is a difficult place to survive and thrive in at times and your comedy comedy comedy drama makes everything a little more tolerable while providing a much needed distraction from time to time. It also proves that there are people on the planet who have the same outlook as me, which saves me from having to be committed by myself, or calling for a vacuum cleaner part and never being seen again. If you do read this post, I hope you smile and know that there are many fans out here. Fans of you as well. What? Seriously, thank you, tell David St. Hubbins that I love him too… all the way back to his Lenny days. Do keep in touch.
Stay safe, stay awesome, and stay tuned.
Your new, not creepy friend,
Patrick
PS: Best line ever for me: What kind of asshole moves a cone? Then….the shot of a high end BMW….perfect…I pissed myself for at least 3 minutes when that aired. Later in life I did attract more ladies. Usually I pretended to be a doctor and looked for women who were named Elaine. One of them is Vanessa, my wife. She just proofed this and told me that “I’m pathetic” and that “I have problems.” Huh? I got game honey!!!
Patrick moeschen 