It’s possible you didn’t know about me. I could forgive you that. There are 2,999 other people in this town, after all, and of course a person could not be expected to know each and every one.
It’s true, that dessert you so enjoyed at the potluck last Thursday: It was mine. And when you asked your friend, she told you, “Oh, that’s Pearl Jenkins Dessert.” It has another name, when other people try to make it. 7-Layer Dessert or some such thing. But none of them know how to properly whisk that instant pudding. So when I make it, it has its own name. I understand, really, that you didn’t remember. That dessert can make a man forget.
When you asked who planted the flowers in front of the courthouse memorial statue, your friend told you that Pearl Jenkins did. But still, the name didn’t stick.
And when your coworker got married last week, and the groom nodded toward a lady in an elegant lavender chiffon dress and said, “We’d have never gotten together if not for Pearl Jenkins,” you still didn’t catch on.
But as I said. I’m not the only person in town.
You may not know me, yet. But I can promise you this: You need me. I can help you. I want to help you. I got a call yesterday from Mr. Warren Willoughby of The Dennison Gazette. (Please, tell me you at least read the hometown paper? Of course I don’t want to presume, though certain other matters of import seem to have escaped your notice. Surely you must have many pressing things to keep track of in your pretty little head. Not to worry, dear.) Mr. Willoughby has asked me to write a new column for the paper: Ask Pearl.
He said I gave advice to my good friends so freely that it would just make sense to let other people benefit too. So, starting next week, I’ll be answering your questions right on page 8 of the paper. Can you imagine? All those long lessons my Daddy taught me, I’ll be able to pass on to folks just like you who seem so … smart … but just haven’t been able to quite get it together yet.
Mr. Willoughby gave me an e-mail address, which really seems a bit ridiculous when you could just send me a postcard from the Post Office. He said everyone would want to talk to me on the In-ter-net. So far, I just keep getting a screen that says SERVER NOT FOUND which is also quite silly to me. I always tip 20 percent. At the least. Unless you’re one of those penny-pinchers with a reputation for tipping poorly, your server should be back at your table promptly. I’ll have to see if my friends Mr. Phillips or Ms. Julian can help me out.
If you’d rather not mail me a postcard (you don’t even need my address; the postmaster knows where I live even if you have never heard of me), send me an e-mail from your computer. You can ask me questions about anything — gardens, bridge, pool, etiquette, even a recipe (except for 7-layer dessert; you won’t be able to do it right anyway so I don’t know why you’d try). I’d love to give you advice about books or relationships too, and then I can even have my friend Mr. Murphy help out. (Please do not bother to ask me to help you with your computer though. Mr. Willoughby didn’t think that was good idea.)
You need a little Pearl Jenkins in your business. Trust me (and e-mail me at askpearl@dennisongazette.com). I’ll see you in the funny papers!
Photo by Max Eccli, Creative Commons license via Flickr. Post by Pearl Jenkins.
You Really Can Ask Pearl
To ask Pearl Jenkins for a bit of heartfelt advice, you really can email to ask. Just use the address she’s provided above: askpearl@dennisongazette.com. All questions will be considered, though time, space, and fit may determine whether an answer is published.
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By turns thoughtful and hilarious (even, inexplicably, both at the same time), this deeply Midwestern book quietly unfolds a vision for how to navigate in a world where we can’t always resolve things.
As much as the characters (like Pearl Jenkins) have a relationship with poetry and story (and they do), it is also a profound book about naming both the things that have held us back and the things we want, to move us forward—about choosing life. While it plays at the level of a few characters’ personal journeys, it is ultimately a novel for our time.
- Ask Pearl: Creepy Thank You Notes, Journal Creepers & Not-At-All-Creepy Cashmere Socks - January 9, 2020
- Ask Pearl: Vamping Vapers, Organizing Stacks, Filling the Hollow Leg - November 21, 2019
- Ask Pearl: Up on the Rooftop, a Problem with Groceries, Shameless Flattery - November 7, 2019
Laura Lynn Brown says
Pearl, you give me hope for the future of print journalism.
Check your e-mail.
Pearl Jenkins says
Goodness. That’s quite a bit of responsibility. I’ll be sure to let Mr. Willoughby know how instrumental I am in keeping him in business.
Your e-mail came through. Thank you. I’ll be certain to respond in due time.
Megan Willome says
Pearl, an advice column is just what this paper needs. I look forward to reading your excellent advice.
By the way, just wondering if you’re acquainted with a widow named Silence Dogood?
Pearl Jenkins says
Well, dear, I did have to do a little research on Miss Dogood. (Imagine naming a child Silence. As if.) I was going to say I used the Googles, but that Ms. Julian had me switch over to Ecosia. She says I’m planting trees when I look things up. I can’t say I understand how that works, but I do find Ms. Julian to be a pretty trustworthy young lady. Anyway, Miss Dogood, yes. We who want to have a little place to publish our advice have our ways to make it happen.
Cameron Julian says
Pearl, I just wanted to say a big Congratulations. And the next time Mr. Willoughby comes in to pay his cable bill, I’m going to tell him he couldn’t have made a wiser, more wonderful choice for an advice columnist. I know I’ve already greatly appreciated your advice to me—as well as your delightful kitchen camaraderie. And someday maybe I will even make that 7 layer dessert, once we’ve cooked together more than a few times!
(I expect that Mr. Phillips, well…Will…should be along sometime to congratulate you too, though I’ve noticed he has a shy side, so maybe he won’t show up here in the comments? Yet he also has a latent writerly side that Joe seems to have noticed. So, who knows. Maybe he will tap something out to you after all. 🙂 )
In any case, I look forward to your wise and witty words here, Pearl. We are lucky to have you, indeed. (The luckiest perhaps. In the Dakotas and beyond.)
Pearl Jenkins says
Why, thank you, Dear. It was so nice of you to stop by. Now, if I could trust anyone to prepare that dessert properly, it would certainly be you. Just be sure to wear an apron when you whisk the instant pudding. It can splash and make such a mess.
Mr. Phillips strikes me as the sort who wouldn’t remember to send thank you notes, so I shouldn’t expect to see any congratulatory messages either.
Will Phillips says
Ahem. I’m right here.
Bethany says
I’m thrilled about this.
Pearl Jenkins says
As am I. 🙂
Cali Girl says
I live in Los Angeles but heard about your advice column. I hope your advice is also for younger people, and people who don’t live in Dennison. I hope I see my letter in your paper.
Sincerely,
California eighth grader
Pearl Jenkins says
My heavens, I had no idea Mr. Willoughby’s paper had such a reach out West. And of course, Dear! I received your letter and I look forward to helping you out. I have things to say to both young and old. 🙂
Will Phillips says
Well, well. Mrs. Jenkins, I’m so glad that someone has taken note of your sage tendencies and now the rest of the world can share in your wisdom.
Everyone, could I recommend you ask Pearl about liquid smoke? She could tell you things that will change your life.
Pearl Jenkins says
Go ahead and joke all you like, Mr. Phillips. I might just publish a whole column about Liquid Smoke.
Rhonda Danette Owen says
Dear Pearl,
While I understand your stance against smoking that putrid weed, tobacco, I wonder what you think about vaping. It’s all the rage now, comes in ever so many intriguing flavors (banana-elderberry!!) and doesn’t stink up any place. But I’m on the fence. Sounds too much like vamping to me.
Pearl Jenkins says
Vaping you say? With elderberry? Why, that’s just confusing. I may just have to do a little research and come back to this one. Miss Rhonda Owen, I think you should check in with my column when it publishes. (I do like a good groove, though. So we’ll see.)