“Dear Abby” is on the opposite page to the comics in my local news rag. Mrs Beatty, and I, will read the most absurd letters to Abby out loud to each other – because they are funnier than the comics.
On the off chance that some sleazy lawyer may want to sue me (or Bill Hudson) for god knows what if I quote and mock some of the actual letters, I’ll just paraphrase them in the spirit of John Prine – who does it far more lyrically than I can.
Dear Abby, Dear Abby, my feet are too long
My hair’s fallin’ out, and my rights are all wrong
My friends all tell I’ve no friends at all
Won’t you write me a letter, or give me a call
Signed ……. Bewildered
Sometimes the letters address serious issues — such as an alcoholic relative. Having that in my own family, I know how frustrating it can be to deal with. But what does the writer expect “Abby” to say? All she (he?) can advise is to seek professional help.
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 do expensive I’d wish I were dead
Signed …….. Unhappy
Too often “Abby’s” advice is to “talk to a licensed mental health professional”. While on it’s face that seems sound advice, mental heath professionals — even if licensed — are a mixed bag. I had one at the VA seemed to need more counseling that I did.
Once while working as a civilian paramedic we were called to the scene of a police standoff with a psychiatrist. He was pacing back and forth across his front porch, with a large caliber pistol, declaring his intent to kill himself. We knew he meant it when he put the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger.
Medical doctors have the highest rate of suicide among “licensed professionals” , and psychiatrists have the second highest rate among physicians.
In the late 1970’s, following some scandals involving gross medical malpractice that got publicized, the Florida legislature created the Department of Professional Regulation (DPR) as the umbrella agency over the various professional licensing boards. The public perception was that the Boards (particularly the medical board) were protecting their own at the risk of the public. (I worked for DPR, as a law clerk, while in law school.)
In conjunction with creating DPR, the legislature sought to mandate the academic requirements for professional licensure. Practitioner were called before the legislators for advice on those requirements. That seemed pretty straight forward — at least until it came to non-physician psychologists and ‘mental health counselors’, who couldn’t agree among themselves what should be the required training to be licensed.
There were apparently a couple of “schools of thought” about the best modes of therapy, and what training was necessary to practice that therapy. The rival mental health practitioners at those hearings were like the followers of the shoe, and the followers of the gourd, in Monty Python’s Life of Brian arguing about the true religion.
That suicidal psychiatrist, my counselor at the VA, and the arguing mental health professionals, all cross my mind whenever Abby advises talking to one.
Dear Abby, Dear Abby, You won’t believe this
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 …….. Noisemaker
What’s so amazing is how incredibly petty some of the Abby letter writers are: ‘ Dear Abby, My relative gave a more expensive birthday gift to another family member than she gave to me. I need your advice on how to behave toward the gift giver at the next family gathering.’
Really?? Leaving aside the narcissism and greed that writer’s dilemma reveals, one must ask a more fundamental question — Is that really the biggest problem in your life? I guess it’s just the “little people” who have to concern themselves with paying bills and keeping food on the table for their kids.
Dear Abby, Dear Abby, Well I never thought
That me and my girlfriend would ever get caught
We was sittin’ in the back seat, just shootin’ the breeze
With her hair up in curlers, and her pants to her knees
Signed …….. Just married
Then there are the ‘relationship’ letters: ‘Dear Abby, We’ve been going together for many years now. I love him, and he says he loves me, but he keeps stalling about getting married. How can I get him to pop the question?’ If I were Abby, I’d suggest listening to the Georgia Satellites.
My all time favorite was the writer who wanted advice after she snooped in her boyfriend’s cell phone contacts list and found one named ‘Side chick’. She pressed ‘call’… and her own phone rang.
She wanted to know if Abby thought he might be cheating on her.