FROM MY COLLECTION OF LIMERICKS:
A wonderful bird is the pelican
His beak holds more than his belican
He can hold in his beak
Enough food for a week
I don't see how in the helican.
FROM MY COLLECTION OF LIMERICKS:
A wonderful bird is the pelican
His beak holds more than his belican
He can hold in his beak
Enough food for a week
I don't see how in the helican.
DEAR ABBY: I read your column faithfully. The letter from "Devoted Mom in Livermore, Calif." really touched a nerve with me. She said she wanted to end friendships with her old "career" friends because she no longer had anything in common with them and would rather spend her free time with her husband and daughter. How sad.
People use the word "friends" too liberally. I believe a person is truly blessed if he or she can name five "true friends." By that I mean people who will be by your side through thick and thin; back you up and ask questions later; someone you can call any time of day or night. Through childhood, marriage, children, divorce, whatever life throws your way, these friends are there. The common thread is the quality that made you friends to begin with. You may not see each other often, but when you pick up that phone or e-mail, it's like you never left off.
It's a shame "Devoted Mom" doesn't understand that true meaning of friendship. -- KATHY G., BALLY, PA.
DEAR KATHY: I agree. True friendship is a commodity so precious it should not be discarded lightly. That letter brought in some interesting mail. Read on for a sample: DEAR ABBY: Although "Devoted Mom" didn't say it in so many words, her letter smacked of the attitude that I'm willing to bet used to disgust her. Now that she's settled down, she's eager to phase out her single girlfriends. Naturally, since she has a "real" life now, she doesn't want to be around people who don't, and certainly she and all her mommy-track friends are sure that anything remotely different from their existence is entirely false. It's that very attitude that keeps us divided.
Sure, she's tired of hearing about single girls' money and boyfriend problems, but let me assure her that potty training doesn't exactly make for a riveting anecdote. Single lives are no less valuable and real than hers.
"Devoted Mom" shouldn't worry about letting those women down easily. They may not be eager to be around someone with such a smug-minded attitude anyway. -- WOMAN-POSITIVE IN COLUMBUS, OHIO
DEAR WOMAN-POSITIVE: I'm sure they won't when they find out they're expendable!
DEAR ABBY: I agree with your advice about thinking twice before phasing out her older relationships. Tomorrow her life could be turned upside down, and those things that she cherishes and enjoys now might not be there –- including her spouse, child and "new mommy" friends. Wouldn't it be nice to know that you still have those relationships and the support of those friends? The complaints she's hearing from them now were very likely some of hers in the past. Were I her, I might try to change the tone of the relationships, but in no way would I eliminate them. -- KRISTIN K., NEW CITY, N.Y.
DEAR KRISTIN: That's mature thinking. A reader in Minnesota sent me the following, and its message rings true: "Make new friends, but keep the old/The worth of true friendship exceeds that of gold."
To order "How to Write Letters for All Occasions," send a business-sized, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $5 (U.S. funds) to: Dear Abby -- Letter Booklet, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, IL 61054-0447. (Postage is included in the price.)
DEAR ABBY: I have been hit on by scam artists more than once. They must think I have "sucker" tattooed on my forehead.
The latest has been a series of e-mails telling me that a Mrs. Virginia of the United Kingdom was killed in a car accident, and I am the sole beneficiary of her $12.5 million estate. All I have to do is provide them with my bank account number, and the money will be transferred from the Habib Trust Bank of England.
Well, I'm not stupid. I gave them the account number of a bank I no longer do business with. There is a grand total of $2.83 in that account. They are welcome to it –- have a cup of coffee and a scone on me.
Their scam promises they'll do all the paperwork –- but after a while they'll tell you that you either have to send an advance of several thousand dollars to "complete the transaction," or go to Nigeria to sign the papers. This going to Nigeria gets better: They'll tell you that you don't need a visa to go there, as they will "take care of all that." But as soon as you land in Nigeria, you'll be arrested for NOT having a visa.
So, Abby, please warn your readers if they receive any type of e-mail, or regular mail, or even a phone call to that effect, they should explain it all to the Secret Service like I did. No one should fall for this trap. I'll get $12.5 million when I am next in line to become the pope. I've got a better chance of coming into money by playing the lottery. -- EUGENE B., CLIFTON, N.J.
DEAR EUGENE: I assume from your letter that you're not waiting for a visit from the College of Cardinals. I'm sure my readers will be grateful for the warning, as well as the reminder that most things that seem too good to be true –- usually aren't.
DEAR ABBY: I'm the mother of two sons who are as different as night and day. My 27-year-old, "Ken," has lots of issues and drama. Our relationship has always been rocky. Nothing I have ever done has been good enough.
Ken calls me on the phone and calls me names. I have gone through years of therapy and am doing pretty well, but when I have contact with him I regress 13 years.
We hadn't spoken since Christmas because I stopped answering the phone when he called. However, last night I did pick up. Our conversation started out well, but it peaked to a horrible yelling contest. Ken called me terrible names and blamed me for everything bad that has happened in his life.
I love Ken, but I don't like him. Is there a way a parent can cut the apron strings? What kind of impact would that have on him? I go to church and sit alone and pray. It gives me some relief. But when he calls, it starts all over again. What is a mother to do? -- GRIEVING IN TEXAS
DEAR GRIEVING: You say that you have had counseling. Has your son? If the answer is no, urge him to get some and get his life in order. Should he refuse, make it plain that you will no longer tolerate his verbal abuse and again screen your calls. The longer you allow your son to cause you pain, the longer he will do it. He's an adult, and you have suffered enough.
Good advice for everyone -- teens to seniors -- is in "The Anger in All of Us and How to Deal With It." To order, send a business-size, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $5 (U.S. funds only) to: Dear Abby, Anger Booklet, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, IL 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)
DEAR ABBY: Thank you for printing the letter about the reincarnated rabbit, "Blossom." It has been years since I had such a good laugh. I had heard the tale before and knew it was a joke. I'm glad you were not taken in.
It reminded me of a true incident that happened in our household many years ago. My brother, Jack, had two pet green anole lizards. One day I came home from school before he did and found my cat, Yoda, in the lizard tank. I was horrified to find only one lizard.
I begged my mom to lend me the car and off to the pet store I went. When Jack came home, he found two green lizards, and one with a half-chewed-off tail in the tank. (I guess it been hiding under the rock.) Jack was old enough to know how lizards have babies, so he was confused as to how the third lizard arrived. Caught in the act of replacement, I had to 'fess up. Jack was furious at Yoda, but happy to have an additional pet lizard.
We still laugh about the incident. -- KIM IN MASSACHUSETTS
DEAR KIM: I looked up the word "anole" and my Webster's dictionary defined it as "any of a genus of arboreal American lizards (as the American chameleon) that have ... the ability to change color." It reminded me of a story I heard years ago (probably apocryphal) about a woman whose pet chameleon died after she placed it on a piece of cloth that was plaid.
The letter about "Blossom" brought back memories from another reader, too. Read on:
DEAR ABBY: While the letter about Blossom was funny, I have a similar incident that is true. When I was 15, I adopted a cat from the S.P.C.A. I named him Elvis, and he instantly became part of the family. On Aug. 16, 2002 (the 25th anniversary of the death of the real king), my Elvis disappeared. He had missed his supper, which was unusual, so a friend and I went looking for him. We didn't find him, but after my friend left to go home, he called and said he had seen a cat up the street that looked like Elvis, dead in the road.
My dad and I took the truck, and sure enough, there lay a gray-and-white striped tabby cat. After three hours of mourning and crying in the driveway, we buried him with some of his favorite toys.
The next morning I woke up with my eyes still swollen from crying and looked out the back door. There lay Elvis sunning himself. After a moment of thoughts flashing through my head of Elvis unburying himself, I ran outside to make sure it was my cat. It was.
A few months later, while attending a neighborhood watch meeting, a neighbor mentioned that her cat had gone missing. He, too, was a gray striped tabby -- identical to my Elvis.
I think sometimes God lets us know how it would feel to be without something we love without actually taking it away, to teach us to be more grateful. -- THE KING LIVES ON, MIDLAND, TEXAS
DEAR K.L.O.: Perhaps. Thank you for the timely reminder that we should count our blessings.
CONFIDENTIAL TO KANSAS CITY KITTY: Dry your tears and count your blessings. Better to have loved and lost than to have spent your entire life hitched to a tomcat who's always on the prowl.
For everything you need to know about wedding planning, order "How to Have a Lovely Wedding." Send a business-size, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $5 (U.S. funds only) to: Dear Abby, Wedding Booklet, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, IL 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)