Thank you for the feature on Joan Rivers (PEOPLE, April 25). You showed us both sides—the hysterical woman we adore as well as the loving wife and mother. All the goody-goodies who are offended by Joan should heed her advice: “Oh, grow up!”
Massapequa Park, N.Y.
Can we talk? As a budding comedienne, it scares me to think that Rivers is labeled America’s “First Lady of Comedy.” If stale Elizabeth Taylor jokes and tasteless insults are what it takes to tickle America’s funny bone, then I’d rather wait tables, thank you.
Joan is like many rivers—polluted.
New Holland, Pa.
Somebody should tell Joan Rivers to stop putting herself down. She is absolutely gorgeous. Her husband, Edgar, is one lucky fellow.
No matter how coarse Joan’s humor may get, it always comes out sounding as cute and innocent as a young child’s discovery of the word “poo-poo.” Somehow she manages to be obscene and lovable at the same time.
Since Rivers has already had her deviated septum corrected, I suggest she return to her plastic surgeon and have him begin work on her deviated mouth.
Rivers should be ashamed to refer to the daughters of Princess Grace as “trampy.” How would she like someone to make such a disparaging remark about her own daughter, Melissa?
Fort Lauderdale, Fla.
Joan Rivers describes herself as “terribly sensitive.” Then she turns around and says Princess Grace “really pulled a chunk out of my act when she fell over.” Rivers’ use of a tragic death as the basis for one of her mean jokes should make even her most loyal fans question her material.
New Britain, Conn.
Oak Ridge Boys
Why doesn’t someone tell William Lee Golden that the shaggy-mountain-man image went out with Davy Crockett? He looks like a 44-year-old refugee from a hippie colony. My votes for the best-looking and neatest members of the Oak Ridge Boys go to Richard Sterban and Joe Bonsall. Duane Allen seems to be trying to follow in the mountain man’s footsteps.
King City, Calif.
William Lee Golden looks like he has the crawlies.
Kathryn B. Rosenmarkle
If William Lee Golden leaves the Oak Ridge Boys, there goes their sex appeal. Like good wine, he gets better as he grows older.
Your story about the Marines in Beirut moved me deeply. My husband, a corporal in the 22nd Marine Amphibious Unit, left for Lebanon in January, only a few days after we were married. In his letters he describes “Hooterville,” a section of West Beirut patrolled by the Marines, as “riddled with machine gun fire.” My concern for his well-being is growing, and I pray he will soon be shipping out.
As a former Section Commander for the First Battalion Welsh Guards in Belfast, Northern Ireland, I sympathize with Marine Cpl. Frank Ryan and his squad stationed in Beirut. Foot patrols can be very dangerous for soldiers when they are asked to act as policemen in a city. During my 1972 tour of duty in Belfast, we were sometimes received with smiles, tea and cookies. Other times there were rocks, bottles and, of course, the ever-present threat of snipers and the tossed grenade. I understand the difficult situation faced by Ryan and his fellow Marines and I wish them well.
While Bill Toone and Noel Snyder were out robbing condor eggs to raise the birds in captivity, did they ever think of the anguish the mother bird must have experienced when she found that her nest was empty and her baby gone?
Connie von Hundertmark
Kew Gardens Hills, N.Y.
In your article on Marshall Brickman, Dudley Moore said of his director in Lovesick: “One waited for those marvelous moments when he’d laugh like a loon.” I paid a special price of 99 cents to see the movie, and when it was over I was glad I had not spent any more money. I, too, kept waiting for marvelous moments, but there were none.
Marianne Garvey Wells
Joyce Jillson, author of Real Women Don’t Pump Gas, says women need to regain their femininity. With three kids, a dog, a job, night school, and no husband, I’m lucky enough if I retain my sanity. Unlike Jillson, some of us don’t have the luxury of wearing a lace dress and driving a Mercedes.
Barbie dolls like Joyce Jillson give real real women a bad name.
I find Knight Rider to be an entertaining show and disagree with the Washington Post’s description of David Hasselhoff as a “zero.” As my 8-year-old daughter puts it, “The talking car would be nothing without the hunk driving it.”
Mount Vernon, N.Y.