The subject had me worried. "Can U Really Satissfy Ur Woman? Khan."

Good question. But why does Chaka Khan want to know?

Email is a wonderful thing — when it doesn't contain computer viruses. So before opening a message, you need to be a computer expert, like me, who knows not to open suspicious messages from strangers. And THIS message came from somebody named "Freda Kum".

I don't know anyone named Freda. But I write a lot of fan mail, and Salma Hayek once played Frida Kahlo. Could this message be Salma accepting — in disguise, of course, hiding from the tabloids — my marriage proposal? Or was it just another "Cease and Desist" from her lawyer?

So I re-read the subject. Or at least I tried to: "Can U Really Satiisfy Ur Woman? Khan."

Ur? Satiisfy? U?

I couldn't understand ANY of those words. It looked like someone typing with one hand — and you don't have to be a computer expert, like me, to be suspicious of a one-armed man. Just watch five minutes of The Fugitive.

I have access to a variety of diagnostic tools to determine the legitimacy of email messages, because I'm a computer expert. So I turned to my favorite, the Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary (http://www.m-w.com).

Merriam-Webster Online couldn't find the exact definition of "satiisfy", but it did offer the suggestion "set-aside". And the word "U" was defined as being "characteristic of the upper classes".

So far so good, I thought, but what does any of this have to do with Salma Hayek? Could she still be ignoring my sonnets, candy, and naughty self-portraits? And if she doesn't respond soon, should I follow Hollywood's lead and switch over to Penelope Cruz?

But that mysterious word "Ur" was still beckoning. According to Merriam-Webster, Ur is an ancient city in Iraq, just northwest of Basra. So now, almost fully deciphered, the subject read, "Can the Upper Classes Really Set-Aside the Women of Iraq?"

Hold your applause, please — any computer expert as handsome and buff as me could have figured that out. (Are you listening, dearest Penelope?) But the real puzzle was still waiting: where does Chaka Khan fit in?

Undaunted, I turned to an obscure online tool known by only the most elite techno-gods. Something called "Google". I quickly discovered the Chaka Khan Foundation (http://www.chakakhanfoundation.org), whose mission is to "assist women and children at risk" and to "empower women and children".

Of course! How could I have missed it?

A few nuances got lost in translation, understandably, but Chaka Khan has clearly begun a political movement to empower the women of Iraq. And one of her campaign workers, an Iraqi named Freda Kum, sent me a cry for help!

Intrigued, I opened the message. And… Wow! Chaka Khan has quite a radical approach to the Iraqi women's movement!

They've developed a pill ("100% naturaal botanicals gathered from every corner of the world"), that helps Iraqi women train to fight for political liberation. In just nine weeks ("only 2 pi1lz daily"), their "members" will "take on a new body, not just longer and thicker, but much harder & healthier."

In other words, Iraqis have found the pills used by East Germany's 1976 Olympic Women's Swimming Team, and Chaka Khan wants me to contribute through Paypal.

On one hand, I'm moved. These women want the freedom that many of us take for granted. They dream of voting, wearing bare midriff tank tops, and exploiting the Iraqi oil industry — things American women do every day. These proud, determined women will stretch themselves to "gr8 1ength" to earn those basic rights.

But on the other hand, I just can't open my wallet to every cause that comes along. I'm already supporting a Nigerian widow who needs my help sneaking her deceased husband's fortune out of the country. I may be a computer expert, but the pay is miserable.

Did I say "computer expert"? I meant to say a handsome, tantric computer expert who loves long walks on the beach and is willing to learn Hispanish for a certain curvy Latin goddess. Or maybe even two of them, if Salma and Penelope are into that sort of thing.

Copyright © 2005 Andy Murphy
Please do not remove the copyright from this work.

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