To Spoof, or Not -- That Is the Question

Can we talk?

This is a delicate subject. (Don’t worry, it’s not my prostate.) You could call it a professional crisis and, given my job, who better to help me than loyal readers?

I’ll be blunt: I’m having trouble with spoofs. Or, you’re having trouble with spoofs.

Well, one of us is having trouble.

The problem started years ago, when I trotted out an occasional satire, such as suggesting that every kindergartner be given a gun and taught throughout elementary school about weaponry and gun safety. Some lauded the idea, but the scarier responses came from those who took it seriously and offered point-by-point rebuttals about why it was a bad idea.

Dear friends, the whole idea of satire is to make a point through misdirection but to make it somewhat obvious that it’s a spoof. That is, we all get the point, have a few laughs and finish our breakfast.

However, some of you are not -- how should I put this? -- picking up on the fact that these are satires.

So, here’s my quandary: Are my efforts so poorly done that you can’t spot them, or are you just not wearing your thinking caps while reading? Do you need to try harder?

This isn’t about blame. It’s about finding the answer. I’m perfectly willing to swear off satire if you just give me the word.

An example: I wrote a few months that Los Angeles was secretly planning to take over Orange County beaches, after which it would charge O.C. residents to use them while letting L.A. residents sun for free. It was spoofing a true story already circulating that L.A. was trying behind the scenes to take over the El Toro airport planning.

I thought it was the classic satire, until a reader wrote in: “This plan to take over El Toro and the beaches is very Nazi-like and will never happen.”

Or when another reader asked why the column wasn’t front-page news: “What can we do as O.C. residents to be verbally outraged and let the government know this is NOT going to happen?” the reader asked.

You see the problem? It’s awkward to explain that either a) I had deceived them or b) their powers of discernment were impaired.

It happened again last week. I mentioned that Gov. Gray Davis had seen the light and was reaching out to citizens. As to whether the recall election was motivating him, I wrote that “young politicians” often learn on the job -- and then noted that Davis was 60 and had been in public life for 30 years. (That, friends, was what I’d call “the tipoff”).

Still, this complaint came in the mail: “You said that we should accept Davis’ sincere speech about how he made mistakes.” And then the letter-writer said it should have been obvious to me that Davis made a calculated political decision.

Or, how about these offerings: a man named Soprano offering to be Orange County’s CEO and telling the supervisors he always gets his way; the Orange County Catholic Archdiocese planning to buy the Angels; a series of memos from Disney Co. chairman Michael Eisner to board members complaining about not getting a bonus in addition to his $200-million salary; a disheveled, depressed Donald Bren meeting me in a motel to lament that he’d dropped into third place on the list of richest Orange County residents.

In each case, at least some readers took the columns as gospel. Except, that is, for the Bren satire -- but then only because an editor insisted I put a disclaimer atop the column. Talk about killing the mood.

In short, you’ve got me wondering. Are these satires so bad you can’t see through them? Tell me straight. I can take it.

I want to do your bidding. I’m not trying to trick you. Just tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.

No, really.

I will.

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Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays. He can be reached at (714) 966-7821, at dana.parsons@latimes.com or at

The Times’ Orange County edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, CA 92626.