My Greatest Invention

Dear Mom,

My greatest invention doesn't work. It was designed to transform regular hot-dogs into foot-long hot-dogs but apparently I miscalculated because now I'm stuck here with dozens of these damned nine and a half inch wieners. I was so close. I could smell the Nobel Prize. I could taste the cover of Popular Science. Now I'm little more than a modern science footnote. A laughing-stock among the ranks of oncologists and astronauts and all the other do-gooders who do nothing. It's 2008 for Christ's sake you can't beat cancer yet? Lance Armstrong's giving you all he's got, at least meet him halfway. And astronauts today, you got Joe Shmoe the electronuclear statistician going up there to test the effects of weightlessness on stain-resistant Dockers. Then I go and try to do something worthwhile and I can't even get published in a God damn scientific journal. Do you know how easy it is to get published in a scientific journal? Well, so much for solving world hunger. I'll be home for Christmas.

                                             Your loving son,
         
                                                             Jonathon Meyers



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