Dear Ann Landers,
his letter is from the Other Man. I am ad-dressing my remarks to the husband of the woman I love. The rela-tionship I enjoy with your wife is the most precious thing in my life. She is a gem. But somehow you never noticed. How long did you think you could ignore her before she felt an emptiness in her life and a need to do something about it? You claim to be a "family man," but everything else comes first- business is at the top of your list. How you love to travel to meetings and conferences. Then there's golf and hunting with the boys. (Good for business.) She is the one who cooks dinners for your relatives and chauffeurs the kids to all their activities, takes them to the emergency room in the middle of the night and listens to them when they have problems. You are never around during a crisis. Your timing is perfect. The real trouble started when you couldn't find time to listen when she wanted to tell you how unhappy she was. It was then that she came to me-a nervous wreck with nobody to talk to. Our friendship began because I listened. Within six months, we were in love. I would marry her in a minute, but she says she just couldn't do that to her family. It would be too disruptive, too painful to too many people. So, we keep stealing golden moments, and I am grateful for every one. I showed her this letter, and she said, "Mail it if you want to. He'll never recognize himself. He thinks he's perfect." So, here it is. Mean-while, I hope you never wake up, you idiot.

Dear Half a Loaf,
Maybe he won't wake up, but I wouldn't be sur-prised if a few thousand husbands around the globe felt a twinge of dis-comfort when they read your letter. You may have done more good today than you know, buddy. In 1991,1 printed a letter that brought in so much mail that I devoted two columns to it. The original letter was from "Florida Wreck, " whose husband of 11 years fell in love with an oldflame at his high school reunion and ran off with her. Here's what my readers had to say about that: