Missing Erma Bombeck

I was a really precocious (read obnoxious) little kid. I loved to read and often would settle in to read some book lying around that belonged to my parents. Mom and Dad learned early that they better not leave anything salacious around after I finished "The Cracker Factory" one rainy weekend when I was nine. My parents like many in the sixties and seventies enjoyed the humorous writings of folks like Art Linkletter and Erma Bombeck. I loved reading Erma when I was a kid. Although I'm sure much of the humor was over my head and double entendre was a faraway concept, Erma was like listening to a wacky aunt. She wrote about the mundane in a self-deprecating, everywoman kind of way. She was funny, (some would say trite, insipid even), but not cynical. She appealed to my sense of hope for my family, giving little bite sized pep talks to the middleclass parents just trying to make it through the day.
I'm sure there are similar humorists in this day and age, but my tastes have changed. I now prefer the stark irony and cynicism of writers like David Sedaris and Marion Winik. Stephen Colbert and Jon Stewart tickle my sardonic funny bone.
Times are tough for us now, tougher than ever. Being a grown-up is much harder than my kid self ever imagined. I sure could use some pithy little "life is a bowl of cherries" quip from wacky Aunt Erma...