Dear Ann Landers,
ou are a traitor to your own sex. Why don't those big-money boys ask their wives which they would rather have, a second car or a second kiss? Wall Street War- 129 rior said he was exhausted from "struggling to get ahead." I wonder if the money is as important to his wife as he thinks. And then he comes up with what is really bothering him-he is too tired! It was comforting to learn that there is one man in the world who is too tired for sex. I wouldn't have believed it. My first husband died when he was fifty, and I think I know what killed him. My second husband was also after me night and day. I had to divorce him to get some rest. Two years later I married a man sixty-two, thinking I'd be out of danger. He's the worst of the lot. I've heard you are a man and I'm begin-ning to believe it.-Gemini

Dear Ann,
I feel qualified to speak about the successful business or professional man who willingly (perhaps eagerly) sacrifices his husband-father role in exchange for the Big Buck. The excitement of the daily battle on the money front is sufficient. They don't need anything else in their lives. These men lack the true understanding a successful husband-wife relationship needs. If his woman becomes cold from waiting, or resorts to a part-time replacement because she is lonely, the Warrior couldn't care less. He is relieved that he doesn't have to bother with her. The Warrior lives in a world of work, and he adores it. Even his play must in some way be related to his work. A wife and children do not belong in this world. Any-one who cannot contribute to his battle gains is relegated to the periphery. No one will ever persuade me that a lack of interest in the marriage bed stems from working too hard. This bit of folklore was invented by a man who must have known better. And anyone who regards this problem as a problem of the rich had better think again. It exists at every economic level. The man who has spent himself elsewhere and is tired when he comes home got that way because he chose to. After years of loneliness and soul-searching ("Where did I fail?"), I confess that I wish I had married another kind of man. I would gladly forgo my large home, the cars in the 130 garage, my fine furs and jewelry, and the club memberships in exchange for a husband who will attend church with his family, show some interest in our children, and be available for the little confidences that can make marriage the special relationship that God intended it to be. Just sign me-A Resi-dent in Kenilworth.