Dear Stan,
I got your letter. I'm not sure what you're trying to do. The act is gone and can't be recreated. The person I was before no longer exists. Life goes on. You don't need me.
Many people have crazy dreams when they are young. They want to be artists or engineers and other unworkable ideas that get in their heads. You need to get passed that stage and join the grown up world. I have obligations and responsibilities. I cannot support myself walking on the clouds of fanciful dreams. We were never going to become famous.
During the act it was always perform, perform, perform! What pressure! What if the funny stops? How do I know I can keep up my end? Is that fair to you that you should have to carry me? I believe I was doing you a favor when I aborted. Yes, you should be thanking me for giving you a head start in the right direction instead of keep heading down the road of wishful thinking.
Also, for some reason, soon after the act broke I started gaining weight and am unable to stop it. It plagues me to this day. Just imagine how awful it would be for me to be on stage after ballooning like this! They say something in my physiology changed. More proof I was right to quit.
I am married now and have devoted my life to God. We are conservative Christians. I don't believe God wants us walking around in this evil world laughing amid so much misery. I read a scripture on that one time. It's better we sit in sackcloth and ashes and repent. Life is very hard and difficult and bitter! This certainly serves the world much better than two guys clowning around on stage.
I won't say I don't miss you at times. Sometimes the old impulses start coming through (and very ill-timed!). I have learned to ignore them as God wants me to. I'm sorry you keep living in the past. I still remember what you said to me at the end, that I wasn't just quitting the act, I was quitting on life. I think you can see with this letter that's not true. The wife and I will pray for you.
God Bless,
Mr. and Mrs. Oliver Hardy
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