Letters to Paul

It occurred to me that, with Paul’s sudden passing, there are people running around on the planet that didn’t get to say either “goodbye” or “piss off” to him. So I figured we all needed some space where we could say all those things to Paul that we never got to say while he was alive. That place will be here.

There are no real rules for Letters to Paul, except for:

You actually have to have known Paul. Any comments by obvious strangers or spammers that don’t know who or what they are talking about will be deleted.
Assuming you meet the criteria for the first rule, you can say anything you want to Paul. After all, he’s dead now and can’t interrupt or declare war anymore.

Okay, those are the only rules. And now, I’ll go first…

Dear Paul,

If you haven’t figured it out yet, the reason everyone is looking at you weird and talking behind your back is because you’ve been dead since last Wednesday. I’m sure this is as much a surprise to you as it was me. If there really is an afterlife I can imagine either of the following scenarios taking place:

You’re stuck somewhere in Limbo, still wearing a hospital gown and saying “Hey, wait a minute… What about my ham sandwich? Can I get that to go?”
After a very brief stop over for Judgment Day, you were banished to Hell where you are now busy making everyone in Hell sorry for even thinking about making a reservation for you, and they’re now frantically trying to rush the paperwork through in order to get rid of you.

Your mom said there won’t be any funeral for you, and that’s okay. You never liked being the center of attention for a bunch of well-dressed gloomy Gusses anyway. I guess after your cremation you’ll probably just sit in an urn next to your dad in the closet until your mom dies, hopefully that will still be a few more years away.

I e-mailed as many people as I could think of that I still have e-mail addresses for. Zane says he’ll miss your laughter. Babbs has put up a really nice memorial for you on skypilotclub.com; and Tim, Jon Sebree, and I have all contributed some words on your behalf. Jon and I have both talked to your mom and let her know that if she needs any help she can call on either or both of us. Even Ryan came out of hiding and called me a couple of times last Saturday. I still haven’t heard from JD, but I’m not sure if I have his current e-mail address or not, and I haven’t heard anything back from Simon or Eli yet.

When your brother Chris used your e-mail to contact me it was a very surreal experience because it was your name that popped up in my inbox at work. I was right in the middle of trying to finish up some important work when I saw your name pop up and I thought “Hey, he’s finally home! I’ll just finish up this work real quick and then I’ll read the message.” Five minutes later I opened up the e-mail and realized it wasn’t you; it was Chris telling me you had died. At first, I thought to myself “Ah, that’s a good one. He’s been in the hospital all this time, and now he’s home, and he’s pretending to be dead as a joke.” But as I read the e-mail again I realized it couldn’t possibly have been typed by you because all the words were spelled correctly, and even the punctuation and capitalization were correct. I knew then that something was wrong.

I frantically tried to call your house and eventually Chris answered and confirmed the bad news. He mentioned how much your family appreciated me for being your friend all these years. He also mentioned how he got into your computer and had been reading all the Paulie Family material that you still had saved. He said it was some of the funniest stuff he’s ever read. I thanked him for it and reminded him that it was usually you that provided me with the ideas; I just took the ideas and ran with them. Ironically, The Paulie Family Blog has been getting a lot of hits lately; and for once it’s not because we both keep looking on there to see if anyone else is reading it.

I remember when you were still in the hospital you were calling me every night because you were bored, feeling lousy, and just needed a laugh. One night we were talking and you mentioned that Antiques Road Show was on, and I immediately changed the channel on my TV at home so we could be in sync. I started doing a parody of the show in which the appraisers thought everything brought in for them to look at was complete crap. Some guy had brought in a table or something and I just started up with “Now this here is a complete piece of crap. These were very popular during the depression back when people couldn’t afford to purchase real furniture. You can see how the legs aren’t even level, which accounts for the severe wobble, and if you look underneath you can see all the old dried up chewing gum and boogers that people have stuck under there over the years.”

On the other end of the phone I could hear you laughing so hard that I though you would surely bust those fresh stitches you had from the operation. You told me that no matter what happened to you to make sure that The Paulie Family would continue and never die. I’m not sure how to do that because I’ve lost you as my central character, and let’s face it, not even I have a bizarre enough imagination to make up a replacement for you. My only other option is to continue The Paulie Family as if you were still alive, but without you to give me those impossible ideas, I’m not sure how to do that either.

And what impossible ideas they were! “I WANT TO BUILD A ROCKET!!!” you once declared, and I gave you my usual objections because the idea was so far out of even my scope that I couldn’t comprehend a way of doing it. But then a few days would pass and I would suddenly think “Well maybe if… “. The next thing I knew I had you building a rocket out of Legos and using dynamite as a means of propulsion. Soon you were pulling into the Arby’s Drive Thru on the moon and just as quickly pulling back out of there when you discovered how much a roast beef sandwich costs on the moon. Ah, those were the days…

I know that those days must return, but it’s going to take me some time to figure out how, and I don’t know how long it’s going to take. I’m sorry you couldn’t make it to The Allman Brothers concert; you would’ve enjoyed it. My boss wound up buying your ticket, but I know she didn’t enjoy the show as much as you would’ve. The last time I spoke to you, you said you’d be up and around for The Moody Blues at the end of July, and now I’m stuck with another extra ticket – really good floor seats too, right on the aisle just like you always want. But this time the ticket is not for sale. I’ll keep that seat open for you, just in case you’re in the neighborhood.

Tracy (Never Had A Nickname) McCall
Head Writer,
Singer, Songwriter,
and Attorney at Log
Paulie Family Productions



Dear Paul,

Hey, you’ll never believe what David Carradine did. Maybe you can ask him about it and get the real scoop. You’ve been dead for over a week now. Babbs did a real nice memorial for you on skypilotclub.com; somebody even managed to find a good picture of you playing your guitar the last time we attended the barbecue.

I put up a memorial for you on both the kidtomfoolery message board and on the Paulie Family blog, and all of a sudden people are checking them out again. Even Ryan came out of the woodwork. And the blog has gotten more hits in the last week than we had all of last year.

Your brother, Chris, seems to really enjoy the Paulie Family adventures. I know you didn’t get along with Chris when you were alive, but I hope the two of you made peace before you died. Chris recently left a message on the blog asking me for my e-mail address. I sent it to him, so hopefully I’ll be hearing from him again soon. It was also nice meeting your brother, Tony. I was sorry he couldn’t go and see The Allman Brothers Band either, since he needed to be available to take care of you when you got home. I was hoping I’d be able to say something to you like “Don’t worry; I won’t let him get robbed or arrested!”

I’m still waiting to hear from your mom on whether or not she needs help taking care of all your stuff. I told her I needed my CDs back, and both Jon and I have offered to go over there and help breakdown your waterbed, or anything else she might need help with. I’m sure that when she’s ready she’ll let us know.

I’ve decided that the Paulie Family must continue with you as the main character, despite the fact that you’re dead. It’s just the kind of impossible concept that you would’ve suggested only to have me declare that it couldn’t be done, and then finally figuring out a way to make it work later. I’m still trying to figure out how to make it work, but one way or another I will make it work.

Tracy (Never Had A Nickname) McCall
Head Writer,
Singer, Songwriter,
and Attorney at Log
Paulie Family Productions