
                         Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: WEDNESDAY, May 11, 1994                   TAG: 9405110068
SECTION: EXTRA                    PAGE: EXTRA1   EDITION: METRO 
SOURCE: Ben Beagle
DATELINE:                                 LENGTH: Medium

I'LL CELEBRATE ON MY OWN, MARTHA|

As a Virginian bred to respect the ladies, I don't wish to quarrel with Martha Stewart - who seems to be an attractive, if slightly obsessed, young woman.

This mailing that was addressed to old yours truly here says she is an expert on having a real great, tasteful time over the major holidays. Everybody knows I'll drink to that.

I do have to wonder why this thing was addressed to me. I don't want to offend you, Martha, but I can't help but brood a little about it.

I certainly in no way encouraged you to send me the offer to buy this book on all this neat things that can be done on Thanksgiving and Christmas.

And I have to wonder why you couldn't have waited until I got Memorial Day behind me.

Your piece came in the mail on May 3, which is the same day Social Security checks come out. How do I know I won't be in debtor's prison by Thanksgiving? Or worse?

Gee Whiz, Martha. I have no doubt that the cover of your book is elegant. But I don't think I'm going to be putting it on the coffee table next to the "gleaming bowl of greens" from the garden. Or the "crystal dish of homemade confections" from my kitchen.

I dunno, Martha. I'm not in charge of the garden, but to tell you the truth, I don't think we've got any greenery that gleams.

And, sweetheart, a confection from my kitchen would be a huger blob of peanut butter flopped down carelessly on a piece of French bread that has been in the refrigerator since we had spaghetti last Friday night.

I have always wanted to go to a holiday party that featured huge mounds of peanut butter on stale French bread, although I know this is not your style, sugar face.

I also tell you that I don't have any dear friends to give your book to. They all want books on how to fix their chain saws.

And, honey bun, there is some sinister sexism in your marketing . For example, your free gift of a 20-page booklet on how to decorate cookies is called a "gift of creativity for a holiday hostess."

What am I? A piece of meat? Can't I be a host?

Also, I don't need your advice on how to make wreaths. I have the greatest wreath-maker in the hemisphere right here on the premises.

Well, let me just thank you anyway, Martha. And I want you to know I'm not interested in any Labor Day recipes.

by CNB