Dearest Phil,

I am truly sorry.  I have failed you.  I have failed the American public.  But perhaps most importantly, I have failed my dear parents who have doted on me, lo these many years, with the fondness of a tender gorilla caring for a fragile kitten.  I know that they have paid rapt attention to these missives of mine, going so far as to miss reruns of “Diagnosis Murder” when necessary.  And in the past week, I have only given them silent, deadly silence.  Mom, Dad: please forgive me.  And please forgive Phil Collins, who I’m sure is very busy at this time of year juggling holiday celebrations with multiple families across several nations and can’t be expected to keep me updated on his every move (although I sure wish he would).

At times like this, I must remind us all (especially myself) of how horrible things could be in this country, and how grateful we should feel no matter what our current position in life, at home, or in our jobs, or our status at the country club.  When you think what life must be like in war-torn Micronesia this Christmas, remember what a great man (Bono) once said: “Well, tonight, thank God it’s them instead of you.” 

I think that pretty much sums it up.

Stay tuned, there are more videos to come, and assuming nothing tragic occurs over the holidays, hopefully more letters (at last!) as well.

Happy Holidays,



Dear Phil Collins,

Quick!  Say your mother is turning 60, and you’re taking her out to dinner two nights from tonight, and you want to get her a gift, too.  What do you get her?

Hurry, please!