Charlie the Tumor

Well I can always tell when I've gone too far in a verbal exchange, when I've hit just that nth degree of crassness, crossed that line by however many centimeters.Whether in person or online, there's that pregnant silence that tells me that once again in this life, I've made a faux pas. 

 This last one happened on Facebook. A few of us  were talking about a friend who'd passed away. His name was Charlie, and he tuned pianos for a living- hence the occasional dubbing of Charlie the Tuner. In the spirit of such riffing, I came up with a variation on Charlie-the-tuner, which, as it turned out, would educate kids about Cancer.

Yes, you guessed it(and I'm sure, not without a groan).A cartoon character called Charlie the Tumor. Of course they'd have to tone down the characterization: instead of the monster it is, they'd have to make Charlie merely grumpy--maybe like Bert on Sesame Street. And of course the ideal prognosis would be Sorry, Charlie. 

Actually, Charlie the Tuna had a death wish. You'd think he'd want to avoid being someone's dinner, happy to just live out his marine life in the sea- or whatever body of water he calls home. Or maybe it was all a ploy. Maybe he was just trying to defect. 

Anyway, Charlie the Tumor was, I guess, yet another of my harebrained ideas. Seemed funny between my ears, but sometimes when these nutty notions hit the atmosphere, they just evaporate, leaving a- pregnant silence.

Sorry, Roger.