I have a confession.
I have a subscription to the Reader’s Digest. Yes, it’s a venerable institution and yes, I loved it as a child but I’d forgotten all about it until my mother ran out of ideas on what colours and sizes I don’t wear and sent it as a Christmas gift.
Most people hide their porn, I hide the RD. I’m not sure why but sometimes I feel really dirty reading it. The porn (on the other hand) is scattered on the coffee table in a cross formation for the Church singles nights I hold in my living room. They’re becoming really popular.
One of the best sections in the Digest was always Drama In Real Life. For a time, it was a stirring series with real danger! confronting real people! but then, it seemed to degenerate into more mundane emergencies like Drama In Real Life: Trapped In The Bathroom. That bored me and I started seeing other magazines.
I was flipping through the latest (I didn’t subscribe, my Mother did) issue having already completed It Pays To Enrich Your Word Power when I came across a story on something that held no interest for me.
The interesting part was that at the top of every few pages of this lengthy story, it said Bonus Read.
What made this a bonus read? Were the editors giving us a little something extra for nothing? A free gift with purchase? Had there been heated discussion about how much reading a Reader’s Digest reader could digest? No explanation.
I’m writing a letter.