Dear Abby, dear Abby


I’m outing myself here, and it’s not easy: my guilty little pleasure is reading advice columns, “agony aunts” to the Brits, (isn’t that a fabulous description?)

I read as many as I encounter from the rather pedestrian “Dear Abby,” in my daily newspaper. (Yes, in print! Imagine that.) the thrice weekly “Dear Prudence” with urbane, articulate advice seekers (www.slate.com) to a Saturday newspaper column “Caroline Hax”, a 20ish audience. Those are the regulars. But I will and do seek out others when the chance arises.

Like when I’m lunching at my favorite place (Café Yumm) which has stacks of alternative newspapers available, where I know I’ll find the weird words of the “Advice Goddess,” who serves a so-not pedestrian audience.

Crossing the line into dating, I recently discovered, “Granny is my wingman,” (http://grannyismywingman.com/) written by a New York woman whose grandmother is also in the dating scene, a humorous cross-generational approach. A book deal may result. Granny has some pithy sayings.

I think this fascination resulted from early exposure to television. “Queen For A Day” to be exact, airing in the late 1950s, a truly sob-sister show where the contestants told their tales of woe. The winner was determined by the audience driven applause meter. The sadder the story, the more likely the win. It was truly pathetic. And I loved it! I couldn’t believe people would get up and tell all THAT – obviously I wasn’t visionary enough to imagine current realty t.v. I probably just loved that the winner got to wear a crown and a velvet robe and got to sit on a beautiful throne – which was likely all snotted up by previous winners. It surely wasn’t for the prizes: washing machines and refrigerators, etc.

The following header from a recent Dear Abby column:

“Bring up prison on 4th date”

Words to live by.

John Prine’s take:

Dear Abby, dear Abby ...
My feet are too long
My hair's falling out and my rights are all wrong
My friends they all tell me that I've no friends at all
Won't you write me a letter, won't you give me a call
Signed bewildered

Bewildered, bewildered...

Chorus:

You have no complaint
You are what your are and you ain't what you ain't
So listen up buster, and listen up good
Stop wishing for bad luck and knocking on wood


Dear Abby, dear Abby...
My fountain pen leaks
My wife hollers at me and my kids are all freaks
Every side I get up on is the wrong side of bed
If it weren't so expensive I'd wish I were dead
Signed unhappy

Unhappy, unhappy...

Repeat chorus

Dear Abby, dear Abby...
You won't believe this
But my stomach makes noises whenever I kiss
My girlfriend tells me it's all in my head
But my stomach tells me to write you instead
Signed noise-maker

Noise-maker, noise-maker

Repeat chorus

Dear Abby, dear Abby...
Well I never thought
That me and my girlfriend would ever get caught
We were sitting in the back seat just shooting the breeze
With her hair up in curlers and her pants to her knees
Signed just married

Just married, just married...

Repeat chorus

Comments

Janice said…
Ha! A very amusing post. And I am embarrassed to say that I remember watching Queen for a Day, too. I guess I liked it, but I don't think I really cared one way or the other; there wasn't much on TV in "those" days. I'd watch anything.
Sun Feb 10, 10:40:00 PM
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