SATIRE: A letter from your father who’s not mad, just disappointed

Stephen Armica, Satirist

Last Semester, Stephen Armica didn’t do so well in his classes. He was a little upset and emailed his father for advice. His father Phil Armica, in his careful way with words, obliged. Stephen hopes this letter can serve as a motivational tool and as an explanation for why his satires are so screwed up.

Dear Stephen,

Look, I know finals didn’t go well last semester. I get it. This can seem like the most stressful part of your life sometimes. So I’m really not mad that this happened. I’m just a little disappointed.

I understand how it is. When I was your age I was getting into all sorts of trouble. But I stopped after my first semester. Do you know why? I’ll give you a hint, it’s not because I got your mother pregnant and had to work instead of goof off with my friends.

…But that did still happen.

It’s because I understood that this was the first time in my life that I had to be a man. I knew after coming to the hospital in the middle of a drunken frat party to my soon-to-be-wife in labor that it was time to grow up.

After dropping you on your head, stumbling to pick you up and then staring into your eyes, I knew you were going to be my life from then on out.

I’ve made my share of mistakes just like you and everyone else. But sometimes those mistakes open you up to even greater successes. Like when I couldn’t get a job after my second cocaine conviction and had to start my own business.

Now your college education and the summer home in Connecticut are completely paid for.

It may seem like it’s hard at the moment. But just remember that you’re exactly like your old man. You’re willing to do anything to get past a hard time. Remember when I had to sleep on the couch for almost a year because I used you as gambling collateral when you were a toddler?

You might not remember it, being a toddler at the time. But I’m proud to say your mother and I are happily sleeping in the same bed again. I’m proud that you weren’t killed while being shipped to Venezuela after the collateral holder sold you to a cocaine cartel.

Now, like I said, I’m a little disappointed. I raised you better than this. Wasn’t I teaching you to never give up when we went on that hunting trip? You were crying and crying until finally, I convinced you to shoot that baby lion. I was so proud of you coming home from Mozambique.

I know you hated that trip, but you should’ve at least kept the pelt as a trophy. It would have gone well next to my ivory collection.

But that’s beside the point. I know you’ll bounce back from this and make this your best semester.

I hope this letter helps.


Papa Armica