Ask Ruth Wellington

Dear Ms. Wellington,

I was "surfing the web" the other day and came across a "Nude celebrities"  website. Not being one that usually visits such sites, I was intrigued and decided to explore the website for just a few minutes. I was "surfing" and "hanging ten" when all of a sudden I came across a picture of who I believe is none other than your faithful assistant, Beecham Wintrot! I  never knew! Goodness, he seems to be quite "healthy"! I guess my question to you would be - Is it ever appropriate to wear brown shoes with a black belt?

Color-blind in Cleveland

Dear Color-Blind in Cleveland:

Oh, come on now! You can use all the quotation marks you want but you can't fool Ms. Wellington. I have explored the internet many dozens of times since getting my iMac last year (my nephew Teddy has been showing me how to use it! Thanks, Teddy!). I can say that I never once just "came across" a nudie web site.  And if I had, I certainly would not have been "intrigued" enough to go into the site. I get the feeling from your letter that you are not an innocent victim of innocent surfing.  None the less, Beecham has had to respond to this type of inquiry many times before. He agreed it would be prudent to explain the situation in the column, once and for all so that perhaps it will not be brought up again.  

You believe you saw Beecham on that web site. It's all a simple mistake. He told me the whole horrible story two years ago when I thought I saw a picture of him in the post office. He explained that the post office photo wasn't really him.  You see Beecham has a twin brother, Bram, who was separated at 4 months of age from Beecham and raised by a different family. It's a long story involving an interfaith teenage love affair, a carnival ride operator and a robbery at a full figure clothing outlet in Bismarck, North Dakota and I won't go into more details. Let it be said that Bram did not turn out as fine as Beecham did.  Bram has had trouble with the law, oh it's no secret, and has dabbled with drugs over the years. Beecham is not surprised to find him earning his living in a less than a dignified occupation. Not everyone can land the cushy post of personal assistant to a top website columnist like our dear Beecham has. The last time Beecham heard from Bram was 1993 and that was a phone call from the Knoxville city jail asking for $20.00.  Every time his brother does something illegal, the police come to question Beecham. Beecham has done all he can for Bram. For the sake of poor Beecham's nerves, let us never bring up this subject again.

As for your question about wearing brown shoes with a black belt, that is a question with many possible answers. Unfortunately, there isn't any more room in the column. Ta!

*****

Dear Ruth,

The other day my husband was trying to explain a plumbing problem to me. I was having trouble understanding his explanation of the plumbing problem and he called me an idiot. I am very upset by this statement. Don't you think that was a bit harsh, Ruth? Has any of your husbands every referred to you as an idiot?

Sincerely,
Not An Idiot

Dear Not An Idiot:

None of my husbands ever called me an idiot to my face. That is indeed harsh. Some of the things my former husbands have called me during the heat of the moment:
-selfish cow
-self-absorbed has-been
-evil enchantress
-babycakes
-lovertoes
-swamp witch (even I don't get this one)
-ruthless Ruth
-money-grubbing cold fish
-Kyle

Husbands can say mean things when we women don't understand their manly interests and pursuits. Plumbing is certainly one of those things that should only be taken care of by one's husband or a hired professional. I'll bet you don't know much about imported beers, professional football, stock prices or brake repairs either, but that doesn't make you an idiot. 

I'll bet you know something about style, home decorating, gardening, child-rearing, fashion, and shopping. Who's the real idiot? The one who doesn't understand water pipes or the one willing to go out in public with a turquoise tie, brown corduroy pants and a faded and stained yellow shirt? What would the men do without our intelligence on clothing matters? 

So, honey, my advice is to stop asking questions that you don't really need the answer to. Rely on him to do his husband thing and you do your thing. Does he treat you well other than that one little outburst? If so, then just punish him for his remark by going out with a girlfriend and spending lots of money on an outfit you'll probably only wear once. That'll teach him.
 

*****

Dear Readers:

Speaking of new outfits, I have just purchased one which I will be wearing at my ??th High School Reunion.  Ah, the memories of good ole Milburn Drysdale Preparatory School.   The year of my graduation our football team, the Drysdale Dukes, won the State Championship.  I cheered my hiney off at that game.  Later at the bonfire, I cozied up to the water boy who shared his flask of Southern Comfort with me.  That young, handsome water boy would nine months later become my first husband.  

While I did have a large group of very close friends in high school, some of my classmates did not particularly care for me.  Some claimed I was too attractive and too rich, some envied my superb gymnastics abilities, some felt that I worked too hard helping the community.  But that does not dampen my enthusiasm about seeing the old gang again.   Bygones are bygones.  I hope everyone shows up with a great big smile despite the fact that some of us may have gotten fatter, uglier, older and balder.  We can't all be as lucky as me. 

Because I am attending this reunion, there will be no new column for the week of October 21.  I am also urging all my regular readers to please continue to send in your letters seeking advice.  How can Ms. Wellington help you, if you don't ask?  Ta!

*****

Dear Ruth:

I have been wondering....how was your reunion?  Was your ex-husband there?  Did you two reconnect?  Were you the most famous person there?  Did you run into catty women?  I certainly hope you will "tell all".

A Florida Reader

Dear Florida Reader:

How kind of you to inquire about my long weekend at my high school reunion in the ole hometown. It certainly was an experience. I encourage all of you who have considered attending a reunion to do it at least once. It was a hoot!

My old, old, old friend Cameron Kerwinkle went with me. We flew into Smithville on the Friday before the reunion and were greeted at the airport by my sister Rose, who still lives in Smithville with her two cats. We stayed at the Newbury Inn in beautiful downtown Smithville, and immediately after unpacking, Cameron and I went down to the bar for a jangled-nerve-calming cocktail. I have to admit that we were both a little nervous about the reunion. It has, after all, been many years since I have seen my old classmates. 

Cameron and I were waiting for a friend of ours to arrive at the hotel and we passed the time discussing Cameron's newest mystery novel. It will be published in June 2003. I am so happy she gave up writing those raising-livestock-in-your-backyard guidebooks. Our friend Coutess d'Bujey finally arrived. She is really a very lovely person, but punctuality is not her strong suit. She had just flown in from Boston and had lots of stories to tell. We went out to dinner with Rose and had a few more cocktails before retiring for the night.

The next morning I got a message from my mother, Betty. Her driver James had brought her down to Smithville from the really quite posh retirement village of Sandinista Oaks in Lesterburg where she lives, and we had a lovely breakfast. I know what you're thinking. Ms. Wellington's mother could not possibly be old enough to live in a retirement village. I know, I know. But it is true.

We had to start readying ourselves for the reunion and thank goodness Beecham had reserved the hotel's largest suite. Each of the three of us had our own bedroom and bathroom. We did our hair and makeup and put on the new evening gowns that we had bought just for the occasion. I have to say we looked marvelous! We were giddy with anticipation and two hours of champagne-sipping.

Our reunion was held in one of the banquet rooms of the Newbury Inn. When we walked in a flood of memories washed over me. I recognized people almost immediately. There was Karla Wenchall who had married Hobarth Bing right out of high school, and they were still married and very happy. There was Rudy Nathan who now owns his landscaping business and sports a dramatic Van Dyke. There was Christine and Charlene Buchford, girls I had known since kindergarten but hadn't seen in many, many years. Robert Niggle sat next to me during dinner, and I remembered having a tiny crush on him during my freshman year. I spent quite some time teasing Brad Ike and his lovely wife about my beating him in the 9th-grade co-ed javelin toss tournament for charity. He good-naturedly took my ribbing. Oh, the names and faces and memories! There were far too many to tell you in this column.

As for my ex-husband, Duke, he was not at the reunion, but I did hear some stories and rumors about his activities since our divorce. From what I could gather, he owns and manages a restaurant out in Arizona, has remarried, and is now the grandfather of two beautiful girls. I am glad he settled down after all of these years. I have only the fondest memories of Duke, despite our divorce. He was kind, intelligent, funny, and as they say, "pretty to look at, lovely to hold". Aaah, Duke and I were just too different. Looking back on it now with my hysterical pregnancy scare, and Duke being from the wrong side of the tracks, I can see clearly that it could never have lasted long. Duke, if you are reading this, I still love you in some small way and wish you only the best.

No, there were not really any catty women there and if they were jealous they kept it to themselves. Of course, I was the most famous there.