DEAR ABBY: I saw the letter you printed from the 79-year-old woman who was concerned about going to her class reunion because she had been very promiscuous back in high school and had bedded about a third of the boys in her class.

When I read the letter to my husband, he looked at me and said, “Did you write that letter?” Should I hit my husband on the head with my marble rolling pin or trash his golf clubs – or both? – HELEN IN TACOMA

None of the above. But if it WERE true, I’d hide the yearbook.

DEAR ABBY: This is in response to “Former Belle of the Ball,” the 79-year-old lady who’s reluctant to attend her 60th high school reunion. My siblings and I were all born, reared and educated on the West Coast. One of my baby sisters was popular in high school and wouldn’t think of missing a reunion. Sis was, and still is, the girl with the perfect skin, perfect body, perfect career, etc., even after two husbands and four children.

Sis related this story to me after attending her 25th high school reunion. When she made her entrance, not only was there no drum roll or trumpets to announce her arrival, no one recognized her. She later admitted that she didn’t recognize any of them, either, name tags and all.

Then something interesting happened. People began approaching Sis’s husband, saying, “I remember you!” He’s usually socially retiring, but after people persistently ignored his protests, he settled into enjoying being identified by various people as everyone from the quarterback of the football team to the class president. One woman even pointed to a picture in the class almanac and announced, “There you are. I could never forget you!”

None of those people could possibly have known him from high school. My brother-in-law was born, raised and educated on the East Coast. Frankly, I think that someone showing up at a 60th class reunion would be tickled to see ANYONE from the graduating class, even if he or she didn’t recognize the person. I hope she followed your advice and went. – COLLEEN IN FAIR OAKS, CALIF.

So do I. As your sister’s experience demonstrates, the one thing that a person attending any class reunion should never be without is a sense of humor.

DEAR ABBY: I hope you are going to give us the follow- up story of the 79-year-old woman who slept with two-thirds of the boys in her high school class and everyone knew it. Did she go to the reunion? What happened? You owe it to your readers. – RICHARD P., WASHINGTON, D.C.

One of the frustrating aspects of my job is not always knowing how things turn out. If I had to make a guess, I’d say she probably went and was voted most popular girl at the reunion.

“Former Belle of the Ball” – if you see this column, Please let us know. Your fan club is waiting.

Dear Abby is written by Abigail Van Buren, also known as Jeanne Phillips, and was founded by her mother, Pauline Phillips. Write Dear Abby at or P.O. Box 69440, Los Angeles, CA 90069.

Good advice for everyone – teens to seniors – is in “The Anger in All of Us and How to Deal With It.” To order, send a business-size, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $5 (U.S. funds only) to: Dear Abby, Anger Booklet, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, IL 61054-0447.

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