Better
Off Dead
I
have come to realize that
there is one major obstacle
standing between my column
and worldwide syndicated success.
Well, actually there are dozens
- the premium value placed
on newspaper space, the dirge
of submissions the major syndicates
receive on a daily basis,
the reluctance of most editors
to run anything new.... But
those I was already aware
of and, in fact, they're common
to most of the creative projects
I undertake. Rejection, after
all, is the sum total of my
life's work.
This
new problem, however, is unique
to syndication alone. And
it's a doozy. It has suddenly
become clear that there is
one major difference between
me and most the successful
syndicated columnists against
which I someday hope to compete:
Namely,
I'm still alive.
Seriously
- Ann Landers, Dear Abby,
Erma Bombeck - all dead. The
comics page? Peanuts, Dick
Tracy, Blondie. Equally as
dead. It would almost seem
as if you have to be pushing
petunias just to stay ahead
in the competitive syndication
market.
I
mean, I love my art and all,
but the whole death thing
is a commitment I'm not quite
ready for.
A
good friend of mine who is
syndicated cartoonist once
tallied up the comic strips
written by dead folks or siblings
of dead folks in a paper that
claimed not to have room for
him. Dead people took up a
whopping 70 percent of the
page.
Don't
get me wrong - I'm not begrudging
the dead folks. It would be
my greatest joy to know that
long after I pass on to whatever
afterlife awaits me, my column
could still be entertaining
people and making money for
my children. I'm just saying
that when one is trying to
muscle out a dead person for
space in a newspaper, well,
the deceased tend to be the
sentimental favorite.
At
least in the music business
the dead get out of the way
to make room for new acts.
Yes, of course music has its
share of after-death successes
- even middling musicians
are revered just for boarding
the wrong plane, or shooting
smack one too many times.
But eventually, after a tribute
concert and an album of previously
unreleased tracks that, were
the artist alive, would have
been unceremoniously panned
by fans and critics alike,
the artist does enters the
pantheon of rock and roll
legends but disappears from
MTV. In music, our fear is
not competing against dead
people, but competing against
the next pre-packaged 17-year-old-girl.
But
in newspaper syndication -
geesh. As if it wasn't tough
enough competing against Ann
Landers when she were alive....
I mean, how do you argue that
you should replace Ann in
a newspaper without appearing
to be taking advantage of
the fact that she happens
to have recently passed. People
don't like grave robbers or
gold diggers and attempting
to elbow the deceased out
of a job is reminiscent of
both.
Don't
think it hasn't crossed my
mind to fake my own death
to see it could boost my career.
Even posthumously, the most
I could hope for is that someone
would hawk the seven of you
who read this column a compilation
of writing or a CD or something.
So in the end I'd be upsetting
a lot of people in order to
clear a measly $24 or so.
Heck,
I think I have that much in
empty diet Coke cans piled
up in the garage.
So
instead I'll attempt to walk
a fine line - trying to promote
myself without pointing at
all the corpses littering
the newsprint. It's kind of
like tying to ignore the elephant
in the living room but….
At
least Dave Barry is still
alive and healthy. I should
be grateful that I can keep
picking on him.
This
column © 2002 Lee Totten.
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