Dear Ann Landers, hy has no one labeled the husband's hazardous and nerve-shredding driving for what it is-the twentieth-century version of wife-beating? I'd like to describe a daily drama, and I hope the players recognize themselves be-fore the lids finally come down on their caskets. A couple goes for a drive. The outing becomes an occasion for the husband to act out all his hostilities and aggressions. Once behind the wheel he seizes the opportunity to get even with his wife for every rotten thing she has ever said to him, real or imagined. Risky driving has become a socially acceptable technique for punishing a wife for whatever is wrong in a man's life. Maybe he hates his mother or his boss or his job or, more often than not, his own inadequacies could be making him miserable. But it's the wife who catches the brunt of it every time. I suggest that couples who are constantly at war because of the hus-band's driving find out what is really bothering him and settle the problem at home.-A Survivor
Hi! It's Margo here. I'd love to know what you think of the letters -- and the answers!
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Dear Readers, , but I believe the following might interest you and your readers. I found it in an old magazine. It was written by Rudy Joe Mano. It Was Grandfather’s Birthday It was Grandfather’s birthday. He was 79. He got up early, shaved, showered, combed his hair and put on his Sunday best so he would look nice when they came. He skipped his daily walk to the town cafe where he had coffee with his cronies. He wanted to be home when they came. He put his porch chair on the sidewalk so he could get a better view of the street when they drove up to help celebrate his birthday. At noon he got tired but decided to forgo his nap so he could be there when they came. Most of the rest of the afternoon he spent near the telephone so he could answer it when they called. He has five married children, 13 grandchildren and three great-grandchildren. One son and a daughter live within 10 miles of his place. They hadn’t visited him for a long time. But today was his birthday and they were sure to come. At suppertime he left the cake untouched so they could cut it and have dessert with him. After supper he sat on the porch waiting. At 8:30, he went to his room to prepare for bed. Before retiring he left a note on the door, which read, “Be sure to wake me up when they come.” It was Grandfather’s birthday. He was 79.
"At every party there are two kinds of people - those who want to go home and those who don't. The trouble is, they are usually married to each other."
