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To the editors:

Jeffrey Zaslow’s article, “Bob’s Little Town” (April 24) reinforces an opinion that I’ve held for some time; that Bob Greene would be better suited writing for the National Enquirer than either the Chicago Tribune or Esquire magazine.

That Greene’s daily Valentine to himself is published in a newspaper of the caliber of the Tribune is in itself a sad commentary on those of us who are neither Yuppies or Preppies. But rather, are average middle-class men and women who, at least in my case, don’t need an armchair guru as my “voice” to inform me on where to find the perfect “cheeseburger.” I’m almost certain that Esquire would love to have several more Bob Greene clones on their staff. Just as Playboy personifies the image to women that if your breasts aren’t a perfect size 38, your socioeconomic development will be forever scarred, Esquire personifies the Bob Greene mentality to yet another generation of so-called achievers.

As for Lindy Lemmon’s husband, Ron, I not only sympathize with him, but agree that Greene’s intrusion into his wife’s life is “weird but amusing.” Not unlike John Hinckley’s intrusion into Jody Foster’s life. As for Bob Greene himself, I view him in the same way a motorist views an automobile accident, you’re horrified, but at the same time, you’re mildly curious. As for the people of Bexley, Ohio, find yourselves a good lawyer.

Charles Gary Rogers