Texan lonesome in ”Golden Years”

Dear Diane: In 2000, I married a wonderful woman and thought we would spend our Golden Years together (we are in our 70s). Instead I ended up with a barrel of problems — her friends.

It all started when I bought myself some new underwear. My undershorts had gotten too large. I need pins or string to hold them up because the elastic had worn out.

My wife’s friends told her that the first sign of a Cheatin’ Man was his buying himself some new undershorts. Diane, I do not have a girlfriend.

Then my wife had to go to the hospital. When I went to visit her, she introduced me to the nurse. I shook the nurse’s hand and said “hello.” I was just being polite. My wife’s friends told my wife that I was dating the nurse! I had never seen that woman before in my life! I just said hello!

I told my wife I wasn’t dating the nurse, but she believed her friends.

Long story short, we just got a divorce. I’m left lonesome in my Golden Years, but I think I am better off. It’s peaceful here.

I hope you print my letter.

— Name Withheld

In Texas

Dear Texas: I think you delivered a valuable message to every married man reading this column: Never buy your own undershorts!

Seriously … . Although you’re happier without your wife and no longer a victim of her gossipy, shallow friends, I’d hope you don’t spend your Golden Years completely alone. I would hope that you go out from time to time and seek some companionship. At least, buy a dog to share your daily walk. Good luck, and God bless.