With this issue, it was our intention to publish our first “Ask Dr. Faux,” an advice column from Dr J. Jean Johann Faux. Dr Faux has not written his column for twelve years now and, I am sure you’ll agree, has been greatly missed. But we must report that there have been problems in the negotiations regarding his compensation. We are hoping for a satisfactory and timely resolution of these matters and look forward to publishing his inaugural column in the next issue.

In the absence of his much anticipated first column, we are including, with his permission, our most recent correspondence with Dr. Faux. In that sense, at least, his voice will have been heard in this issue.

Dr. Faux was compensated for allowing us the use of the correspondence that addressed the matter of his compensation.—Ed.

September 25, 2009

Dr. J. Jean Johann Faux
c/o Whisper Valley Trailer Park
[address redacted]
 

Dear Dr. Faux,

I very much enjoyed our conversation and my thanks to your very considerate neighbor who allowed us the use of her telephone for our call. I believe she called herself Dolly; my thanks to Dolly.

We are very happy to offer you fifty dollars ($50.00) per column with the understanding that you will be providing answers to two questions, twice per month, for a total compensation of one-hundred dollars ($100.00) every four weeks.

As our publication becomes more established, we hope to be able to increase your monthly compensation.

Thank you for considering our offer, and I look forward to hearing from you.

Yours truly,

[Signature]

Britt Leach
Editor and Publisher
Impertinent Information

Editor’s note: Dr.Faux wrote the following letter on a legal pad; it was mailed in an envelope that had been previously used. It should be noted here that Dr. Faux speaks of himself in the third person, both in writing his advice column and in all correspondence. "Dr Faux has just sent out....", etc. That idiosyncratic usage should be noted in reading the following.

October 2, 2009

Mr. Britt Leach
Editor
Impertinent Information
[address redacted]

Dear Mr. Leach,

Dr. Faux has just sent out a search party. He has put up “Missing” posters around his trailer park. And why would he would do that? Because zeroes were missing from your offer, received this date. Dr. Faux shook the envelope vigorously in an attempt to find those missing zeroes, he retraced the steps to our little post office/general store thinking that the missing zeroes might have fallen from your letter and into the dust of the trailer park, but to no avail. Fifty dollars per column for two pieces of expert advice where Dr. Faux is expected to listen to the pitiable moans of the literate miserable? And offer advice?

Dr. Faux has multiple degrees from universities all over North America. Dr. Faux once had a lucrative private practice in Beverly Hills, the original home of the “worried well.” Dr. Faux once had an assistant named Trixie who opened his mail and licked his envelopes and would dust his office while wearing a black bustier. “Dr. Faux once had…” The list is too long, but he still has his pride and his two sweet cats, Muffins and Tom-Tom who are now old, who need their special food, and Dr. Faux must pay for such food, more than one-hundred dollars per month.

His monthly propane bill is more than one-hundred dollars, and Dr. Faux will not drink any vodka that costs only one-hundred dollars per case. And as you might remember, Dr. Faux requires one case per month even in his austerity mode, which is where Dr. Faux has been living for twelve desperate years now. Twelve bottles of vodka at eight dollars per bottle? Dr. Faux is poor and unappreciated, but he does not drink vodka that has been found unacceptable by the Environmental Protection Agency. Dr. Faux is an environmentalist who condemns oil spills and thus condemns such vodka. Beautiful shore birds would have died as a result of such vodka. And do not think that Dr. Faux is off the subject. Vodka is the subject and propane is the subject and his sweet cats are the subject, for collectively they are the substitute for the warmth derived from human contact, the balm of cohabitation: dear, dear Trixie.

And Dr. Faux is still not off the subject because the subject is monetary and the monetary and Trixie are related in the thinking of Dr. Faux. After his practice was closed, Dr. Faux just could not afford the assistance of sweet Trix. And when he last heard of Trixie she had become the personal assistant of Deep The Chop, Deepak Chopra. Oleaginous Deep The Chop. Such sadness for Dr. Faux. “Oh, howl, howl, howl. Ye are men of stone…”. How cruel, Trix. How cruel!

One-hundred dollars!

The black dog is out and Dr. Faux must retire to his Airstream with Muffins and Tom-Tom, along with his blanket, and a bottle of something called Bang! Vodka. He thought he was purchasing Banff Vodka and when he reached into the bag on his way home…a vodka called Bang! The cruelties continue.

But he will recover, as he always does; and when that occurs, Dr. Faux will be receptive of any realistic offer that takes into consideration his education, his expertise and his wisdom.

One-hundred dollars!

Yours truly,

[signature]

J. Jean Johann Faux, M.D., Ph.D., Ed.D., F.I.D., D.L, D.D.

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