Is there a Mrs. God? How about soft clothing labels?


Letters, calls and the roar of the crowd:

Emma Jean Siple, Baltimore: If any one in the whole wide world believed there was a female cosmic parent to help start the Creation like I do, I have never heard of them.

If Adam and Eve were given birth by God's wife, and if the fact had been revealed, she would have been the Supreme Goddess.

Who was Mrs. God?

But women, with the exception of the Virgin Mary, were created to fill a special role in life: that of homemaker, pleasing her husband, raising a family, having grandchildren, and great-grandchildren.

Since God chose not to reveal his wife's name we became second-class citizens.

And now at last women are taking their rightful place in society.

Who knows, maybe someday we will be on the Orioles team.

COMMENT: If you can pitch, you may be on the team next year.


David L. Michel, Baltimore: I've got a sore -- right on the back of my neck.

See, I've just bought a new shirt and the maker of the shirt sewed a label in the collar. The label is made of a very tough, dark material folded over and sewn tightly in the neck of the shirt so that it hits me in the middle of my neck.

By the time I get back home, my neck is red from the scratching of the corners of the label.

So I do some home doctoring and put cream on the red sore skin on the back of my neck.

What does the label say? It says: "Single needle tailoring, 65% polyester, 35% cotton, Permanently Pressed." Do I need to have those words impressed on the back of my neck? I think not. Why not sew these labels on the shirt tail and leave the neck smooth?

I have sat behind men in meetings, looked at their necks and have seen the same telltale signs of neck abuse by labels. Red, chafed skin on the backs of their necks.

The worst label exposure problem is with women's dresses. How many times have I called to my wife as she is leaving the house to stop because the labels are showing on her blouse or dress? Labels are sticking right up on the back of her neck.

Have you ever sat in an auditorium and read the label on the dress of the lady sitting in front of you? I know you're supposed to be listening to the lecture or the concert, but that label keeps your attention saying: "Laura Ashley, Size 12." If we have to look at these labels, I wish the label people would put more interesting things on them to read.

I will admit that after many times stuffing the labels down the back of my wife's dress or blouse, I have been tempted to reach up to the next row where that lady is sitting with her Laura Ashley label sticking out and politely tuck it in.

However, my wife says there is nothing polite about this and refuses to stay with me if I try.

COMMENT: Actually, I think you're darn lucky your wife stays with you at all. But your problem has touched me deeply and so I have put aside my column on the war in Somalia to deal with it.

I thought first of referring your letter to Bill Clinton's health care panel. Perhaps we could add a 12 percent tax on bread, milk and sugar in order to pay for special coverage for neck sores caused by shirt labels.

Then I thought of turning it over to Al Gore so he could streamline the rules on labels from their current 75 pages to a manageable 25 pages.

But I finally figured it out: Give the problem to the NAFTA czar. Because if we have these labels made in Mexico, maybe we could make them out of tortillas, which are not only soft, but also tasty.


Paul J. Glace, Lutherville: I have been so bothered by your ill-conceived perennial column on July 4th, that I can't purge my head of your words. As a columnist, you may find pleasure in this. However I am not only annoyed that you were so misguided in 1976, but that you are still proud of it today.

COMMENT: You are obviously unaware of my motto, which I intend someday to have carved on my tombstone:

"Roger Simon. Columnist. Sometimes In Error; Never In Doubt."


NOTICE TO READERS: My poetry contest ends Thursday. So you still have time, but not much, to enter. The winners will be announced in Sunday's column.

From the looks of the entries so far, anybody still could win this thing.

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