updated 12/05/1983 AT 01:00 AM EST
•originally published 12/05/1983 AT 01:00 AM EST
Paul McCartney (PEOPLE, Nov. 14) is not just your average millionaire. He doesn't drip with jewels, fancy cars or flashy clothes. He's not seen attending lavish Hollywood parties or surrounded by a bevy of beautiful women. Instead, he's at home with the wife and children he loves; he wears T-shirts and tennis shoes and spends his time with other artists. He has his priorities straight—and not far from where a lot of middle-class people do. Last but not least, thank you, Paul, for giving us years of beautiful music.
Your article about the people who are money machines disgusted me. At a time when so darn many people are out of work, scrimping nickels and dimes, returning pop bottles to pay for gas to get to their next job interviews, you go and show how selfish, egotistical and ultimately stupid our stars are. I don't dream about millions; I dream of a reliable, modest paycheck.
Garden City, Mich.
I loved your article about the richest people in showbiz. It was so refreshing to read about something besides war and economic woes.
Are we supposed to be impressed by Vice Admiral Joseph Metcalf III, USN, and his attitudes toward combat? Frankly, the thought that Metcalf can smile as he watches an AC-130 gun-ship "pumping several thousand rounds a minute into the underbrush" scares me to death. With men like him in command of our troops, how can we ever hope to live in peace?
Thanks for the fine job your reporter did on Nell Carter and her weight problem. I want to wish her all the luck in the world.
Charles David Haskell
New York City
Acupuncturist Zion Yu may be communicating with his body, as he recommends, but he should learn to communicate with his patients instead. His "fashionable clinic" felt like a factory to me, where there was no consideration of my specific problem or of the reaction I was having to his nonchalant treatment. There are excellent acupuncturists in Los Angeles. They just don't spend most of their time becoming celebrities.
Bette Midler reminds me of the Wizard of Oz. For her public image, she creates an outrageous, ostentatious persona. Yet it's necessary to pull back the curtain every now and then, not for an intimate inspection, but to allow us a comforting glimpse of the real person who controls the celebrity. Thanks for the peek.
Your story convinced me of what I had suspected all along—that Genie Francis is a spoiled and obnoxious brat just like the character she played on General Hospital. I had been a big fan of the show, but she was the reason I stopped watching for a couple of years, only to resume when she left. If we're lucky, she'll fall off the pier for good this time.
Grand Bay, Ala.
I grew up with Laura, I cried with Laura, and I've cheered for Laura. I was there when she struggled down the hospital corridor in her first pair of high heels. I agree with Genie Francis that her character deserves to go out in a blaze of glory.
Tamela A. Reuscher
Kansas City, Mo.
As an artist, I had mixed feelings about your article on disturbing pieces of public art. The artist makes a mirror in which society can see itself. A society that awakens from murderous crimes, greed and ignorance will probably not like what it sees in that mirror, just as someone who is hung over hates to face himself in the morning. For example, it is upsetting to look at the bust of San Francisco's slain Mayor George Moscone, but its creator, Robert Arneson, must feel that the value of this discomfort is that it may move people to prevent history from repeating itself. I'm not condoning everything every artist does, but I hope to inform people that artists often play a part as necessary as businessmen, accountants, grocers and lawyers. Your article propagated an attitude that encourages budget planners to hatchet art programs first. Consequently, museums, orchestras and ballets die, and men lose touch with themselves and each other. Once that happens, who will not suffer?
Drexel Hill, Pa.
What kind of morons would allot $70,000 in federal funds to weld a pile of junked auto parts together and display them in Detroit? I lost the use of an arm for this country in 1968, but then I still had pride and respect for it. This sort of ludicrous spending, along with our government's failure to control foreign-car imports, has put thousands of Americans out of work. Any one of them would gladly have built a pile of auto parts and called it art in return for a decent week's wage.
Vero Beach, Fla.
Picks & Pans
What in the world happened to the rest of your review (PEOPLE, Nov. 21) of Barbra Streisand's new movie, Yentl?
Through an oversight, the first few sentences were omitted. Please see the full text of the review on page 12 in this issue.—ED.