Le New York Times commence son article sur feu Pauline Phillips, alias Abigail Van Buren, par ces deux paragraphes qui illustrent le ton ironique de la courriériste du coeur, décédée hier à 94 ans après avoir souffert pendant dix ans de la maladie d'Alzheimer :
Dear Abby: My wife sleeps in the raw. Then she showers, brushes her teeth and fixes our breakfast - still in the buff. We're newlyweds and there are just the two of us, so I suppose there's really nothing wrong with it. What do you think? - Ed
Dear Ed: It's O.K. with me. But tell her to put on an apron when she's frying bacon.
Avec sa soeur jumelle Ann Landers, «Dear Abby» a dépoussiéré le courrier du coeur avec un style direct, parfois brutal ou osé, agrémenté d'un humour à la Groucho Marx. Voici d'autres exemples de ses conseils, servis à partir de 1956 à un lectorat qui allait compter des millions d'Américains :
Dear Abby: Our son married a girl when he was in the service. They were married in February and she had an 8 1/2-pound baby girl in August. She said the baby was premature. Can an 8 1/2-pound baby be this premature? - Wanting to Know
Dear Wanting: The baby was on time. The wedding was late. Forget it.
Dear Abby: I have always wanted to have my family history traced, but I can't afford to spend a lot of money to do it. Have you any suggestions? - M.J.B. in Oakland, Calif.
Dear M.J.B.: Yes. Run for a public office.
Dear Abby: Two men who claim to be father and adopted son just bought an old mansion across the street and fixed it up. We notice a very suspicious mixture of company coming and going at all hours - blacks, whites, Orientals, women who look like men and men who look like women. ... This has always been considered one of the finest sections of San Francisco, and these weirdos are giving it a bad name. How can we improve the neighborhood? - Nob Hill Residents
Dear Residents: You could move.