Ann Landers

Dear David: You've worked as an actor in New York and Hollywood, made a bundle selling real estate and written plays about global-warming scientists and a Texas mega-church. Now you work on one of the hottest shows on television, "CSI." So why the fascination with someone as retro as Ann Landers? -- Curious -- David RAMBO smiles. "First of all," he says, "she's very theatrical." By that he means Landers, a.k.a.

"The Lady With All the Answers" -- the solo show about advice columnist Ann Landers, which opened Friday at Pasadena Playhouse -- tries to make a virtue out of innocuousness. A breezy encounter with the Midwestern bouffant of syndicated fame, the piece invites us to spend a little behind-the-scenes time with the woman who, until her death in 2002, never failed to impart a word or two of stern common sense to her distressed readers.

Three weeks ago, I came to Los Angeles from the East Coast to attend the wedding of two men for whom I have great affection. It was not my first gay marriage. Four years earlier, I was the very elderly "flower girl" at the wedding of two gay male friends in Boston. I preceded them down the aisle, scattering petals from a basket, the works. My one wish about both these events is that my late mother, Ann Landers, was still here so that I could talk to her about them.

The Pasadena Playhouse will present "The Lady With All the Answers," David Rambo's comedy about Ann Landers, in place of the previously announced "Mauritius" by Theresa Rebeck. "Lady" will run Oct. 24 to Nov. 23, while "Mauritius" will play March 27 to April 26. In addition, the Playhouse announced that it will present "Stormy Weather" (Jan. 30-Feb. 28), Sharleen Cooper's new musical about Lena Horne, starring Leslie Uggams; Lillian Hellman's "The Little Foxes" (May 22-June 21); and "The Night Is a Child" (Sept.

'The Lady With All the Answers': A theater review in Monday's Calendar section of "The Lady With All the Answers" said that Ann Landers was born Eppie Lederer. Lederer was her married name. She was born Esther Pauline Friedman, and her nickname was Eppie.

Ann Landers. The name alone triggers a flood of memories about the advice columnist who lent a shoulder to the world, mixing wit with compassion as she counseled readers about life's myriad confusions, frustrations and heartaches. Her playful responses -- "somebody's got a geranium in her cranium" -- and willingness to admit mistakes -- "20 lashes with a wet noodle" -- made her a trusted visitor in many a kitchen and office break room.

A man who told Ann Landers that he had killed his estranged wife and then sued the advice columnist for $100 million for publishing his letter has been convicted of murder. Michael Knowles, 48, who testified that he talks with angels and tried to slash himself with a disposable razor in court, was convicted Thursday. The jury recommended a life sentence, and a hearing was scheduled for July 8.

In her 40 years as an advice columnist, Ann Landers has counseled the lovelorn, offered tips on child rearing and shared her meatloaf recipe. Now the feisty Landers, who celebrates her 78th birthday on the Fourth of July, is taking on the Internet, warning her readers of the dangers she believes are lurking in cyberspace. In one of the more extreme letters she has run recently, a 45-year-old Bakersfield woman wrote of being raped by a man she first met online.

In politics, they say, name recognition is everything. So Ann Landers might have the answer to winning election Tuesday to the Atascadero City Council. And Richard Ramirez might be embraced as Paso Robles' city clerk, the official recorder of the council's night talkers. Landers and Ramirez are, of course, not the advice columnist and the "Night Stalker."

Infidelity, incest, domestic violence, adult bed-wetting, panic attacks, obnoxious children, animals in the toilet--Eppie Lederer has seen it all for 40 years. In 2,000 letters a day from all over the world, people heave their weirdness or tragedy or confusion into the mail room of the Chicago Tribune, where it enters the world of Ann Landers. Two men open the envelopes and sort the letters into categories, and then take them to a staff of four women upstairs.