Who We Are and Why We're Doing This

Introduction: Brandon Stahl and Cheryl Solimini began emailing back and forth when Cheryl, an otherwise successful author, lost an unfortunate bet and was forced to submit an article to LostBrain.com. The correspondences that took place between the two turned out to be almost as funny as Slate's Breakfast Table, so we decided to violate Cheryl's privacy and publish them.

From: Brandon Stahl
Sent: Wednesday, April 24, 2002 12:19 PM
To: 'Cheryl Solimini' Subject:
RE: Who Are You?

Every email from you is guaranteed at least two to three laughs. Would you write my obituary?

So, just out of curiosity I typed in Cheryl Solimini in google (you know, standard background check done three weeks after you've written for us) and it turns out you're a publishing goddess. I suddenly felt so inadequate when compared to your five (count 'em) five published books and three gagillion published articles. It's going to take awhile for my inferiority complex to handle this.

-Brandon

From: Cheryl Solimini
To: Brandon Stahl
Sent: 4/26/02 5:11 PM
Subject: Re: Who I Am

Though I sure do like that goddess label, what does my glorious publishing history mean, when I've been living a lie? It's amazing what a person will do to keep a roof over her head, food in her fridge and a life-size replica of the Indianapolis Speedway on her front lawn. I'm not proud of what I've done, but I just hope it's not too late to make amends.

And damn it! You have your own Website! You're an editor, an publisher, an entrepreneur. [That "an" with "publisher" was deliberate, by the way-not a typo.] And as Ann Landers would say, nobody can make you feel inferior without your permission. (That Annie is an old gasbag, isn't she?) Have a superior weekend. Please spend part of it figuring out how I can make $money$ by writing entertaining E mails in my spare time from my own home.

P.S. I went to see Modern Humorist Live at The Knitting Factory in NYC Wednesday night. The only time I laughed was when the waitperson told me my Diet Coke was $6. And that laugh was bitter.

From: Brandon Stahl
Date: Fri, 26 Apr 2002 23:43:48 -0500
To: 'Cheryl Solimini '
Subject: RE: We Are Stupid

Whenever Travis and I talk over the phone, they're special occasions. AT&T moments. We rarely do it because he's very cheap and I can't stand the grating sound of his voice. But when miracles happen and we have a phone conversion, we spend that time discussing the quality of Modern Humorist. "Wow, does that site suck," he'll say.

"Indubitubuly old chum. Quite right," I respond. "Their take on humor doesn't seem to be modern at all, but stuck
in a period of the late pristillian age." I reply and chuckle, just to emphasise my point (Note the British spelling on emphasise).

Travis counters: "Modern Humorist makes me want to spit really really hard." Travis has issues. And though I'm not even sure of my original point anymore, I think the moral of the first two paragraphs is that I probably shouldn't write emails this late in the evening.

Maybe I'm just taken aback by being referred to as an "publisher and an entrepreneur" (note the an) all in the same sentence. And you even left off the "just kidding. You suck so bad you make me want to spit." That was very
nice. And though I don't recall giving you permission to make me feel superior, I suppose suing you over a violation of my rights would only lead to a long legal battle that could only end in a dramatic court room scene with me putting Marisa Tomei on the witness stand and quizing her about her knowledge of cars. And that wouldn't be very entrepreunerial of me, now would it? (note the spelling of entrepreunerial, as I have no idea if it's
actually spelled right.)

I hope you have a nice weekend, too. May it be spent counting your millions of dollars you've earned as a publishing goddess.

-Brandon

p.s.: Want to know how to make money from home writing entertaining emails? Two words: David Sedaris. Though you'd have to move to France and live with your gay boyfriend.

From: Cheryl Solimini
Sent: Saturday, April 27, 2002 11:10 AM
To: Brandon Stahl
Subject: Re: We Are Still Stupid, et al

I saw David Sedaris Live only three Sundays ago at the John Harms Center in Englewood, NJ. (No reason for all that detail except as an exercise in warding off Alzheimer's. HE did not suck. I laughed heartily even during the question-and-answer period. I already have a gay boyfriend, but perhaps it's the France part that's the charm. If only the French didn't live there as well. (I'm not sure why I have this hatred of the French. Maybe it's because of their arrogance in not pronouncing anything that comes after the first syllable of a word. As if we should all just KNOW what they're trying to say. Oh, yeah. Now I remember. That's why I hate the French.)

Actually, perhaps we should just publish our E mails and see if anyone knows what we're trying to say. One of my earliest memories (before this Alzheimer's thing started kicking in) was sneaking "The Groucho Letters" out of the adult section of my local public library. (I guess I was underage, though at the time I looked 32 and still the librarian carded me.) It was a compilation of correspondence between Mr. Marx and his....correspondents, one of whom was T.S. Eliot. The literary world is ready for something like that again.

What does this have to do with us? Depends on which one of us is Marx and which one is Eliot. I think I could pass for either, under the right fluorescent light. (I was just showing off that I could spell "fluorescent" without looking it up. Which I just did, and I was right.)

Forgive me. I'm getting bronchitis and I haven't been able to score any Zithromax. That's the best excuse I could come up with for this E mail. (Please don't include it in the compilation.)

Go Back to Chapter 1 || Or Go to Chapter 3: Stern Barely Knows We Exist. But He Knows We Exist!