June 17, 1990
Dear Macaws:

Well, darlings, since you have not responded to any of the invaluable bon mots bons motsbeaux meaux bo mo plums of consumer feedback regarding prior issues of Macaws, I had given up all hope and laid layed lain put down my Panasonic KXW-1510 forever.

But when I saw the three tongues of the Shepherd family lunging forth at me from the cover of the July issue, I could not restrain myself. What an issue!!

First, Cybill and her brood. I did not know she had a son with Down’s Syndrome. How nicely she dresses him for a boy with an affliction. Unfortunately, he has not yet learned to shove the giant Shepherd tongue up behind his front teeth and into his cheek, as his sister has. No doubt she attends the Dalton School, where they teach such things, and he is sent to the Sutton Place Imbecile Academy, where more attention is paid to haute couture and ballroom dancing than to taming the protruding tongue. Cybill herself is afflicted with the lunging lingual, as you will note, but has incorporated it into an open-mouthed leer that implies continuous orgasm. Still, Larochefoucault’s maxim holds true: ¨Thin lips cannot conceal a fat tongue.¨

Scanning the engaging front cover, I was stunned to read the headline, ¨HOW TO HAVE SEX WITH A BAD BACK.¨ I have never had sex with a back, a good back or a bad back, and the concept was quite provocative. I opened immediately to the article by Jane Shiyen Chou—by day, an organized Macaws Associate Editor; but by night—wll, Mr. Goodbar, watch out!

page 6—Estraderm transdermal patch. This is an excellent product that I use regularly, and that keeps the moustache on m upper lip velvety and smooth. A word of caution to your readers, however: be careful not to leave it lying around in your medicine cabinet next to the scopolomine patches for seasickness, as I did. My husband, Philip, went deep-sea fishing and took along the wrong patch. Now he’s a C-cup.

page 19—the Lucy doll is wonderful! The best yet!! But where is the Ricky doll? For now, I have to use my Ken doll to play Ricky, and it looks silly when Ken comes in the front door of the dollhouse and says, ¨Choney, I’m chome!¨ Of course, Lucy is wonderful when she answers, ¨Nnnnyyyyyyaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!¨

page 25—the Ralphie doll. This does not look like Ralph Cramden at all. In fact, it looks like Jesus, portrayed as a mincing faigele, which this reader, for one, finds offensive. Send a complimentary issue to Bishop O’Connor, or even to His Holiness, John Paul (did you know that his real name was Karel Wojtyla, and when the white puff of smoke went up, he, being a Beatles fan, wanted, to call himself John Paul George Ringo, but the College of Cardinals made him shorten it) and see if they think Macaws is a family magazine.

page 26—Ask Dr. Mom. A lot of concern about the bowels, don’t you think? Digestion, gas, constipation, diarrhea. Well, what’s a mother for, if not to worry about what comes out of her darlings’ tooshies...and when...and how often...and how big...and what color...and do they float?

page 28—Go Ahead and Eat Cake. Oh, you Jane Shiyen Chous. First you tell us to have sex with a back, and now you have us pigging out on fat, salt, and sugar.

page 36—As always, Charlotte Ford is impeccable. A few alternative suggestions, however: When a dinner guest brings a bottle of wine, it certainly is not necessary to open it. In fact, if it’s a bottle of Gallo or Paul Masson or Cribari, it is quite appropriate to respond, ¨I’m sorry, but we don’t drink this swill in this house.¨ And if a five-year old boy spills your makeup all over the floor, try shoving a handful of cold cream into his fat little mouth. You watch, he’ll never do it again.

page 43—Macawmanac. The pager is a wonderful idea for enhancing the bonding between mother and child. At our house, I have my little Peter call the Panasonic KXT-1470, and I leave him little motherly messages on it, such as: ¨Mommy loves you, darling,¨ or ¨Don’t play with yourself so much, darling.” It is always wonderful to come home and hear little Peter’s voice on the tape, “I love you, Mommy.¨ Electronics have done so much to enrich our family lives, don’t you think?

page 50—Macawmanac. An added suggestion for cleaner air: eat fewer Brussels sprouts.

page 56—Macawmanac. I am so glad that you are allocating less and less space each month to ¨Doctor¨ Lee Salk, the psychologist. Frankly, I’d rather hear from his smarter brother, Jonas, who is a real doctor, and who won the Nobel Prize. Which of her two sons do you think Mrs. Bertha Salk is most proud of? Lee, the psychologist who writes columns in women’s magazines? Or Jonas, who is a real doctor, and who won the Nobel Prize, and who has lunch with Elizabeth Taylor? Drop the psychologist; get a psychiatrist, who is a real doctor, and who can prescribe medication and have an office on Park Avenue and can make a bundle.

page 57—Serenity. What a lovely serving dish.

page 73—Just My Size. I can understand why the company changed the name of its product. It just wasn’t selling well before: ¨Attention, K-Mart shoppers, now on sale in ladies lingerie, Big Tits!¨ Or, ¨For the name of the store nearest you, call 1-800-BIG-TITS.¨

page 75—I find this woman intimidating. Do not put her on a cover, ever.

page 87—Kids in the Water. The boy in the foreground is doing the dead man’s float, because he is dead. This picture is not in very good taste.

page 110— Little Miss Muffet
                 Sat on a tuffet,
                 Eating her sister.

page 120. Here is Doctor Bob, examining little Katie’s doll. Now he will take little Katie’s pulse, just the same way. And now, he will check little Katie up and down, just to see how nicely she is growing. Now Norman, who is painting the picture, can come over and check Katie to see how nicely she is growing, too. It’s all right, Norman is Dr. Bob’s friend.

page 136—As always, Alexandra Stoddard closes on a perfect

A bientôt, darlings.