Responding to my Fan Mail
    This space is to respond to some of the scores of e-mails, letters, postcards and what-not that people have sent me, as the strain on my wrists from writing each fan individually has become tiresome.  Since this site is now up, please utilize it to send me your correspondences.  And always read the updates on this page; I will be placing answers to many popular questions here, so you may find your answer here, instead.  On to the fanmail!
This is a letter from a young man from the Bronx, New York named Angel Nunez.

"Adam, you are the funniest person I have ever seen.  Can you show me how to be funny?"

Well, Angel, that is, as you can probably imagine, a very common question.  And the answer is YES!  I can teach you all the tricks of the comedy trade, as I have recently opened Adam's Academy of Comedy and Embalming.  At AACE I will teach students the length of time to wait for a laugh to get quiet, how to make the most of funny faces, and what amount of distolic phormaldehyde to use when treating week-old corpses.  I will show you the best in pratfalls, scar stitching and, my favorite, wigs!  Crazy, crazy wigs.  So be sure to check back here for updates and how to apply!
Perry Lankerce from Pensacola, Florida asks "Do you have any idea how much this hurts?"

Perry, Perry, Perry.  No.
I just got a letter, dated March 12, 1987 that was lost in a dead letter office for many years, from a Dr. Hunt Fraizer of Bar Harbor, Maine.  He writes "I just performed a simple appendectomy on a patient, but accidentally left an instrument inside her body.  Should I tell her?  It will ruin my practice!  Please help!"

I'm not sure why anyone would ask me that question (especailly when I was 16 years old!) but I'll give it my best shot...

Doc, whatever you do, don't tell her.  Let it ride, and if it ever comes up in the future, play dumb.  Being a modern woman in America, she can't possibly be keeping track of all the stuff that goes into or out of her body, so she'll probably blame herself, get it removed and she'll throw in some lipo along with it.  Don't sweat it, Hunt!
Dear Adam,

Have you seen the Moon lately?  Christ, it's like friggin' huge, takes up half the sky!  What gives?

Larry L., Jacksonville, FL

Yes, Larry, I have noticed that the moon is huge lately, a pregnant, ruddy orb, grey-mountained and silent, portending the night's activities and making visible that which is unseen.  Moon!  Harsh mistress of darkness, a beacon in the sky, making one lament the loss of the Sun at dusk.  When dawn dost break, the Moon's ghost can still be seen, as a warning; I shall return!  Moon, glorious moon!

Thanks for writing Larry!
Dear Adam,

My son has been complaining lately that he doesn't get enough privacy.  He's 13, and I know at that age boys need "alone time" to do whatever teenage boys do.  His father is out of the picture, so I want him to be happy, but where do I draw the line?

Mom from Montauk, LI, NY

Long Island Mom,

First off, kudos for giving your son any privacy at all.  As a lad growing up in Buffalo, New York in the 70's and 80's, my only dream was a room of my own.  We lived in a one room house, affectionately know in the area as a "one-roomer", which afforded no one any time to themselves.  Having twelve people in one room was uncomfortable to say the least, as many of us had to share beds, towels, and even shirts.  My brother Alfonse and I had only one shirt between us; this was very difficult, as it was uncomfortable walking, sitting and going to the bathroom while in one shirt, stretched to it's limits and threatening to leave us both naked.  Ahh, those were the days.

Thanks for writing.
things
Actor Keir Dullea writes:

I've asked the computer that runs our spaceship many times to open the podbay doors.  Nothing.  What would you do?

Keir, great question.  First off, you are referencing a film you starred in 35 years ago.  It was not real at all, as the computer was only a fake plastic thing, with lights and doohickeys.  Even if, by some bizarre technological miracle, it was real, it was 35 years ago, and not still happening.  Also, you are not on a spaceship now, but instead you live in Connecticut with your second wife, Mia Dillon, a Tony-nominated actress.  Is she on the spaceship with you?  What is her suggestion?  See.  She thinks you are a crazy person, and wants you to get help, so you can do more regional theatre.  So, what would I do with the computer that won't open the podbay doors?  Fill the insides of it with crazy juice, and ride it all the way to Insane-O-Ville.

Thanks for writing!