Dr. Laurie Speaks -- from February 2009

Another Dr. Laura parody -- one of my favorites:

Have you ever wondered how another, well-known dispenser of advice to the lovelorn and alienated would handle these letters? (Note: any resemblance to a certain obnoxious, insensitive radio personality who uses the title “Doctor” is purely intentional). Prudie may be obnoxious herself, but she’s a creampuff next to: Dr. Laurie!

Dear Dr. Laurie,
My wife and I have been married for a thoroughly enjoyable three years, but we've recently fallen on hard times. At nearly 30, I now realize becoming a screenwriter should be Plan B, although I still have to find Plan A. My wife is a 24-year-old student. We'd like to start a family but can't for a few years. She has suggested egg donation. From the various listings, it sounds like we could make $6,000-8,000 per shot. As she sees it, we'd be helping a determined couple have a family, we could use the money, and she's just "flushing them down the toilet every month" anyway. Any child would be lucky to share her genes—she's smart and gorgeous. But I have concerns. First, I think these hopeful parents should consider adopting. Second, despite the technicalities, I have a hard time seeing her eggs merely as genetic material. Part of me feels that since any child that results from this would be half my wife, I would feel a sense of responsibility for it and its well-being. What should we do?
—Leggo My Eggo

Dear Hollywood Dad:

A 30 year old screenwriter? Really? Do you really think that you have chosen a profession in which you can provide for a wife and children, or are you just selfishly chasing an adolescent dream? Also, as I recall, “screenwriter” (at least in California) is a code word for “loser on unemployment and/or welfare who sits at Starbucks all day and pretends to do something useful.”

Allow me to suggest a dynamite idea for a screenplay: Daddy Dearest and Mommy Moron, in their quest to gather enough money to buy a new Hi-Def TV and take that dream vacation to Hawaii, grub for funds by selling their future children. Regrets and drama abound when they realize that they have sold their precious ones to complete strangers, who turn out to be abusive and derelict parents. Courts can’t help and the law can’t help, because they signed away all parental rights for a few shekels.

Stop playing a dad on TV, and be a real parent and husband. Find a real job (maybe barrista at your favorite coffee shop). Exercise your prerogative and forbid this dangerous nonsense! Your wife will thank you later, when you are gainfully employed and surrounded by your darling rugrats. Remember, folks – it’s all about the children (born or unborn).

Dr. Laurie, responsibly.



Dear Dr. Laurie:
I am an only child with a single mother who's very dependent on me. She is a smart and passionate woman, and we have a sometimes-stormy relationship. We have worked hard to develop a friendship as I approach my late 20s. She recently moved across the country to be near me. She knows no one here and has made me the focus of her life. I encourage her to develop friendships, introduce her to people, and help her engage in new activities. However, I am feeling suffocated, largely because of Facebook. She recently "friended" me. Now, she posts embarrassing, nasty, and downright weird messages on my page about my personality and even my behavior as a child. Most of the comments would offend me if she said them to my friends, let alone put them where everyone I know can read them. I have tried to casually mention this, but she laughs and brushes aside my concerns. What do I do? Is my only option to "defriend" my mom?
—Friends With Mom


Dear Electra in an Electronic Age:

Your mom was a “single mom” who raised you as an only child? What happened to Dad, or were you the product of donated sperm? (Yes, people, it happens both ways. Just like eggs, every sperm is sacred and should not be wasted). Obviously, you hold a lot of anger because your mom was too selfish to raise you with another parent of the opposite sex, and your mom now resents you because parenting by yourself is like rowing a boat with only one arm. Going in circles, dear – circles. I have no doubt that you had to work hard to be civil to each other, and I question whether this “friendship” with your mother is really “barely repressed fury and resentment under a veneer of reluctant politeness.”

I also question whether you are following your mother’s trend of questionable decision-making. Seriously, is Facebook the sole repository of all your friendships and relationships? Close the account and find another way to meet people. Get out there, find a spouse the traditional way, and reduce your contact with your mother to an occasional dinner. Your example may inspire her to push away the computer and find her own life, instead of posting about how many times she had to change your diaper.

Dr. Laurie, reflectively


Dear Dr. Laurie,
Ever since I can remember, my thumbs have been noticeably abnormal. Each has a large bump sticking out the side, and I cannot bend them. I often feel self-conscious about these deformities. I hate having to shake someone's hand, for fear that they will be freaked out by my thumbs. Having taken piano lessons for many years, I always worried that my teachers were going to be focused on my thumbs and not my music. I feel like a weirdo! My boyfriend doesn't seem to care that my thumbs are different, but I wish there was something I could do to have normal, bendable thumbs. What should I do?
—Unbendable

Dear Thumbellina:

I read something else in your letter – an anorexic in the making. Seriously, it’s just a short step from looking in the mirror and seeing your thumbs as if they were drawn by R. Crumb, to looking in the mirror and seeing a body drawn by Dr. Seuss. It’s all in your mind – your thumbs are not that big, and neither is your butt. Find some counseling (and a surgeon to bend those thumbs, if necessary) – I guarantee that 90% of your thumb problem starts in your mind, rather than at the ends of your hands.

Dr. Laurie, discerningly

Dear Dr. Laurie,
I work in a small office of half a dozen people. We are not social outside of work, but we get along very well in the office. I am usually the first one to go to lunch, and two or three times a week I will grab food at a restaurant and take it back to eat at my desk. Inevitably, when I announce my departure, someone will ask, "Where are you going?" If it's someplace appealing, they will ask if I can pick something up. It often turns into an officewide affair, with people looking up menus online, running to ATMs, making change, writing down their orders. To be fair, they usually ask me if I want anything when they are going somewhere. Though I like my co-workers, I don't really want lunch to be a social affair. I see it as an opportunity just to get away. How can I do that without disrupting the office atmosphere?
—Lunchtime Is My Time

Dear Jackass in a Box:

Ever hear of something called a “brown bag lunch”? It’s frugal, smart, and respectful. If you must eat at your desk – a simple sandwich, a bag of chips and a piece of fruit work very well. Otherwise, be aware that food aromas and small offices don’t mix. Why are your fellow wage slaves giving you orders to fill? Passive hostility and a desire to overcome the invasive smells of your Enchilada Supreme with the fumes coming off their own meals. If you must waste money on lunch, eating out is your best solution. If you resist this good advice, expect that your officemates will continue to treat you like Captain Kruller every time you head for the exit at noon.

Dr. Laurie, hungrily