Dear Abby: Recently I attended a family picnic. My 13-year-old granddaughter came up to me and whined, "There's nothing to do."
Simultaneously, my adult children replied, "Rake the leaves, visit the sick, help the needy . . ."We all burst into laughter; they were quoting from an old column of yours which had been posted on our refrigerator in the late '60s and early '70s.
It obviously made a lasting impression on my family. Will you please run it again?
- Kathryn Gibbings, San Diego
Dear Kathryn: If this isn't the most-requested letter to be rerun, it's a close second.
The letter you're asking for is:
"Always we hear the plaintive cry of the teenager, `What can we do? Where can we go?' The answer is, go home!
"Hang the storm windows, paint the woodwork. Rake the leaves, mow the lawn, shovel the walk. Wash the car, learn to cook, scrub some floors. Repair the sink, build a boat, get a job.
"Help the minister, priest or rabbi, the Red Cross, the Salvation Army. Visit the sick, assist the poor, study your lessons.
"And then when you are through - and not too tired - read a book.
"Your parents do not owe you entertainment. Your city or village does not owe you recreational facilities. The world does not owe you a living. You owe the world something. You owe it your time and energy and your talents so that no one will be at war or in poverty or sick or lonely again.
"In plain, simple words, GROW UP; quit being a crybaby. Get out of your dream world and develop a backbone, not a wishbone, and start acting like an adult.
"You're supposed to be mature enough to accept some of the responsibility your parents have carried for years. They have nursed, protected, helped, appealed, begged, excused, tolerated and denied themselves needed comforts so that you could have every benefit. This they have done gladly, for you are their dearest treasure. But now, you have no right to expect them to bow to every whim and fancy just because selfish ego, instead of common sense, dominates your personality, thinking and requests.
"In heaven's name, grow up and go home!"
Dear Abby: In reference to your recent column on the subject of hell for this and hell for that - you might inform the lady who wrote to you that there is a small community in Michigan called Hell. It's located about 50 miles west of Detroit and four miles southwest of Pinckney. (Maybe she would like to go to Hell sometime.)
A few years ago, I saw a sign outside Apache Junction, Ariz., which read: "Apache Junction, Arizona - 90 million miles from Heaven and two feet from Hell."
- Robert E. Vernon, Newark, Ohio
Dear Robert: Thank you for a helluva letter. Although I heard from several readers who claimed authorship of a poem titled "The Hell You Say!" it was copyrighted by Harold Clark in 1964.
What teens need to know about sex, drugs, AIDS, and getting along with peers and parents is in "What Every Teen Should Know." To order, send a business-size self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 ($4.50 in Cao: Dear Abby, Teen Booklet, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, IL 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)