The first letter I opened yesterday was marked, "Aerogramme, Luchtpostblad," and bore a stamp imprinted "nederland." The letter said:

"We are visiting our daughter, son-in-law, and four grandchildren who, as you can see from the return address, live in The Hague.

"Last week my wife and I took a bus trip to Paris. To help while away the time, the bus driver played music recorded on cassettes.

"All of a sudden a rousing song was heard - very familiar music but pure Dutch words. I couldn't believe my ears, so I asked the driver, 'What is the name of that song?' He replied, 'That's called the Sailor Song.' I thanked him and didn't try to explain that the song is better known in most parts of the world, and especially at the U.S. Naval Academy, as Anchors Aweigh." A postscript to the letter added, "Please don't publish my Washington address as a guide to thieves and burglars."

I'll do better than that; I won't even publish your name. Somewhere in our area there may be a burglar who is enterprising enough to look up your address in the phone book.

Unfortunately, an area publishing company has not permitted considerations of this kind to deter it from bringing out a map that pinpoints the private homes of more than 300 famous people who live in Our Town and its environs.

Almost all of the 300 are people who travel frequently, and whose movements are reported in the press. If ever there was a guide for burglars and crackpots, this is it.

Would you like to register a beef with Mayor Barry? The map will give you his exact address and show you how to get there. Do you think Cyrus Vance needs your advice on how to deal with the Russians? No problem. He's listed, too. So are the residences of Ted Kennedy, Chief Justice Burger, Jody Powell, David Brinkley, Henry the K, Jack Anderson, Mac Mathias, Art Buchwald, Hamilton Jordan, Joe Califano, Martin Agronsky, J. Willard Marriott, Elizabeth Drew, Lesley Stahl and scores of others who ought to be able to enjoy the privacy of their own homes. I keep saying I'm opposed to censorship, but sometimes I don't say it very convincingly.