I was saddened to hear of your recent passing... indeed, allow me to admit I didn't even know you were still living. Allow me to also admit I didn't know your real name was Pauline Phillips, or that you lived most of your life in Beverly Hills.
I had known your twin sister (Esther Pauline to your Pauline Esther, as if there was a run on names in 1919) was Ann Landers (thanks to the promos for a ludicrous Lifetime movie from 1999), as I'd known that you both were Jewish, thanks to Adam Sandler's Hanukkah song. I read you occasionally over the years, but, quite frankly, more Ann Landers as the local paper of my childhood happened to pick up her particular syndicate. You were equally outspoken; your sister referring to the Pope as a "Polack" in The New Yorker, you telling a reader to, essentially, go screw when she complained about gay people moving into her neighborhood in San Francisco.
You were elegant, notoriously coiffed, brash, witty... and probably saved more than your fair share of lives over the years... you at the very leas, inspired at least one lowly blog. For that, doubtless, legions are grateful... And indeed your legacy, even for this letter-writer, leaves very little to crab about.
Sincerely,
Dear Crabby
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