
A couple of gigs ago, Ray played at an outdoor festival. So there I sat, in the rain, in the dark, watching the show. Three men approached where I was sitting and stood in a circle around me watching the show. Attendance was sparse due to the weather, so it seemed strange they stood so close to me. It made me uneasy, but I have been in similar situations since being with Ray, so I didn’t think much about it.
At home later that night, while I was unwinding and listening to Ray complain about his fingers, I mentioned the three men. He said he had witnessed it and thought it was a little odd, too. This led me to ask, hypothetically, what he would do if he were on stage and I was being attacked in front of him. He said he would put his guitar in its stand, go to the microphone and ask for assistance for me. He wouldn’t throw the guitar down and rush to my aid!
I couldn’t believe his response. I feel completely alone and unloved. I don’t know what to think or what to do. Any advice you could give me would be greatly appreciated.
— FACE IN THE
CROWD
DEAR FACE: You are neither alone nor unloved, and I seriously doubt your husband’s response to your hypothetical question was an indication that he doesn’t love you. It’s possible that he was afraid he would not be able to adequately protect you, and that Security could deal with the three men more effectively than he could. Bear in mind that if the real thing were to happen, he might react very differently.
Because you are fearful, plan ahead. Carry pepper spray when you attend his performances.
DEAR ABBY: My daughter graduated more than two years ago. I offered to help her with her thank-you notes, but I dropped the ball and never got them completed and sent out. I feel terrible and guilty.
Would it be wrong to send out letters to everyone and explain what happened? Or how else can I resolve this mess and put my conscience to rest?
— PROUD MAMA IN
OHIO
DEAR PROUD MAMA: The task of writing thank-you letters was your daughter’s responsibility from the start. She should send them out right away, with her apologies. Better late than never.
Write Dear Abby at www.DearAbby.com
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