A concerned citizen
Mrs. Tot Whooten
P.S. Watch out for flying fish.
Mother’s Day
In the spring of 1970, among the radio shows that featured mostly teenage music, right after Tops in Pops, The Neighbor Dorothy Show could still be heard over station WDOT.
Except for the fact that Mother Smith was gone and Dorothy was almost all gray now, the show remained the same. Her voice was still as warm and friendly, a welcome relief from the blaring rock and roll that played the rest of the day and night.
“Good morning, everybody,” said Neighbor Dorothy. “I don’t know what’s happening where you are but it seems everybody here has come down with a full-blown case of old-fashioned spring fever. And I can’t blame them—this is such a pretty, warm April and I hope it is the same where you are. I’ve never seen so many jonquils popping up everywhere. And pretty soon Mother’s Day will be upon us and if you’re wondering what to get Mother this year, think about giving her a gift that sings. A canary of her very own for the parlor or kitchen, to start her day on a cheery note. I can recommend that from experience. I can’t tell you how much joy my two precious birds, Dumpling and Moe, gave me over the years. Or if she already has a canary, you might think about getting her Rittenhouse door chimes and remember, Rittenhouse door chimes are always pleasant to the ear and a lovely way to say that company is at your door. And let’s see what else . . . we received another postcard from our tin-can tourists . . . the Goodnight sisters . . . and I wish you could see this one. They are both sitting on ostriches. It comes from the Corn Blough Ostrich farm in Kalamazoo—I tell you, those girls have no fear.
“. . . If any of you folks are traveling in or around Lebanon, Missouri, and need a place to stay, don’t forget Nelson’s Dream Village Motor Court. . . . Stop in and see and hear the electrical and musical fountain. Spend a cool night in the Ozark Mountains on U.S. Highway Number 66 . . . the gateway to the South and the West. . . . Nelson’s Dream Village—strictly modern, fireproof, individual bungalows where children stay free.
“And speaking of children. I got the sweetest letter from Bobby and Lois and I am happy to report that grandson Michael is now an Eagle Scout. I would have given anything to be there to see it. It’s so hard to realize that both my children live so far away and no matter how old they get they are still our babies, aren’t they? When I see Bobby now I can hardly believe that he runs such a big company. I know he is a grown man with children of his own but to me he’s still my little Bobby and she is still my little girl Anna Lee, who, hold on to your hat, called me last night and reported that she might be getting ready to be a grandmother herself and make Doc and I great-grandparents.” Dorothy laughed. “I told Doc I hope it happens because it will be the first time I’ve ever been great at anything.
“Later on in the program we will be having a talk from Gertrude Hazelette entitled ‘The Superior Way to Crack Hickory Nuts’ . . . but first let me ask you this: Are there any more pack rats out there besides me? Every year when I do my spring cleaning I go up in the attic, determined to clean it out and throw out all that old stuff that does nothing but sit up there and collect dust and every time . . . I always wind up not throwing a thing away. . . . I sit there and so many pleasant memories come back with each and every thing I pick up. I know I should give all of it away, but I just don’t have the heart. . . . Oh well . . . maybe next year . . .”
Empty Nest
NORMA WARREN was getting ready to have her daughter leave home for the first time and she was not at all happy about it. When their daughter, Linda, graduated from high school, she immediately went to work for AT&T. On career day the representatives had come to school trying to recruit women, in particular, for management training. They needed a quota of women now that the federal and the state governments were paying attention. Aunt Elner’s niece by marriage, Mary Grace, had a good job at the telephone company in St. Louis and put in a good word for her. When Linda was chosen, Norma was disappointed. “I wish you’d think about going to college for at least two years, if nothing else. I wish I hadn’t gotten married so young. I wish I had gone to college.”
“I know, Mother, but think about the great opportunity this is. I’m going to be trained for a top job. Why waste four years in college when I can already be working and making good money?”
“But, honey, think of the fun you’ll miss—the sororities, the dating, living in the dorm with all the other girls.”
“People don’t do all that anymore and I can have just as much fun making money. If you weigh all the options, Mother, it’s really the most logical and practical thing to do.”
“You’re too young to be logical and practical. You must get that from your daddy. I was never practical or logical. Maybe I should have been more like you. I just got married and didn’t learn a thing. If something happens to your daddy, I’ll probably wind up as someone’s maid or cook—that’s all I know how to do. I don’t have any skills but cooking and cleaning.”
“Oh, Mother, you do too. Real cooking is a skill.”
“No, it’s not,” Norma said. “Any old person can cook.”
“I can’t,” said Linda.
“You never really tried. You know your daddy is going to be very upset that you’re not going to college.”
“No, he’s not. He thinks it’s a great idea.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I went down to the store and showed him the letter.”
“When?”
“This morning.”
“Before you showed me?”
“Well, I wanted to see what he thought. And he said I should do it.”
“Oh, I see, so as usual you and he have decided—I’m just out of the loop, I don’t count.”
“Oh, Mother . . .”
“Well, it’s true. I don’t know why you bother to tell me anything. I might as well be a knob on the door for all you two care. Why did you bother to ask me? You’re going to do what your daddy says, you always do.”