Monday, June 7, 2010

                              This I Believe, Shadydale

      You know you don't have to be a high-brow N.P.R. listener to believe something. You don't have to be a college student in Vermont, a movie star or Edward R. Murrow to believe. People right here in Shadydale believe lots of stuff, and to show you that's true we're presenting for your radio enjoyment, “This I Believe, Shadydale.” For tonight's segment we'll be hearing from Mr. Marvin Hinson who's in the aluminum recycling and lost bungee-cord recovery business right here in Shadydale. You've probably seen Marvin out on 142 with his tow sack and reflective orange vest. Marvin tell us what you believe.

     My name is Marvin Hinson and This I Believe.

I believe that if you don't keep that brat youngun of yourn from making fun of my little Charlene, me and you are gonna have us a tussle.

I believe that the Neil Armstrong moonwalk was staged and filmed in Hollywood, California.

I believe that wraslin is real.

I believe that John Kennedy's brain is being kept alive in a jar in Dallas, TX.

I believe that Saddam Hussein was a member of Al Quida. Him and Osama Bin Ladin was golfin' buddies. I seen it on the internet.

I believe for every drop of rain that falls a flower grows.

I believe that Cindy McCain would make an excellent first lady and a fine spokeswoman for the American people.

I believe that if you pass gas and sneeze at the same time you will die.

I believe that Elvis is alive.

I believe that Faith Hill could kick Madonna's butt mud wraslin.

I believe that handlin toads will give you warts.

I believe that Fidel Castro is responsible for armadillers heading north.

I believe that Britney Spears needs her redneck fanny whooped.

I believe I'm just the man to handle that job.

I believe that Tony La Russa and Harvey Keitel are the same person. Think about it. Have you ever seen 'em together?

I believe that William Shakespeare wrote all that stuff hisself. I don't know why, I just believe that. I mean he was William Shakespeare.

I believe that Barry Bonds shoulda taken some drugs to make his voice not sound so much like Michael Jackson.

I believe there's no such thing as a “gratuitous lesbian sex scene.”

I believe that people with little phones attached to their ears are too dumb to know how dumb they look.

I believe that the expression “rap music” is an oxymoron.

I believe oxymoron should be pronounced oxzimoran so it wouldn't sound so

well, moronic.

     My name is Marvin Hinson and This I Believe.

                              Shady and Dale's Mail Bag

     Shady: Hello all you folks out there in radio-land. Can you not afford You Tube or what?

     Dale: C'mon Shady be nice to folks.

     Shady: Oh' I was just messin with ye. Seriously now, I'm Shady

     Dale: And I'm Dale

     Shady: And this is the portion of the show we call “Shady and Dale's Mail Bag” where we dig into the many letters we receive to see what our listeners are thinking and try to answer some of your questions.

     Dale: Our first letter tonight is from Taiwan O'neal in Uptown, GA. He writes, “This question is for Shady. Why they call you 'Shady,' man? I mean, wassup widdat?”

     Shady: That's an excellent question Taiwan, and an easy one to answer. “I'm called Shady because I got first pick of the names. I mean, it was a no-brainer. Who wants to be named Dale? It's like Roy Rogers' wife or a Walt Disney chipmunk. Now “Shady” that's got some romance and intrigue.

     Dale: Wait a minute Shady. You told me “Dale” was the best name and you was gonna let me have it and now I find out... Why that's so lowdown, it's so...

     Shady: Shady?

     Dale: Oh... Now I get it. You really are Shady.

     Shady: That's right Dale. Open us another letter.

     Dale: O.K. This one's from Melinda Moss of Wayward Falls, AL. It says, “What are you guys' day jobs? Surely you can't make a living off this radio gig?”

     I think Melinda must be an aspiring musician, Shady.

     Shady: You mean cause she says “day job” and “gig”?

     Dale: Yeah Shady, you picked up on that too? Well Melinda, why don't you come play on this show. You don't have to worry about embarrassing yourself. I mean we got real low standards here. I remember when they let me play “Smells Like Teen Spirit” on my kazoo. I was so nervous but--

     Shady: Are you gonna answer the lady's question or just go on babbling the way you do when your mama ask you why you ain't got no men friends.

     Dale: Why Shady, I got you.

     Shady: You do? Well, I guess.

     Dale: You guess? Oh Shady-. (she sobs)

     Shady: Now don't get all mopey on us Dale, just answer the woman's question.

     Dale: (she sniffs) Well Melissa, I gotta be honest with you, this is the only job I ever had but...but...

(she brightens) Shady's had lotsa jobs. Ain't you Shady?

     Shady: Why sure. There was telephone solicitatin, landscapin, pizza delivery--.

     Dale: I still believe you woulda ' done good with that if you'd had a car.

     Shady: Yeah. Newspaper delivery.

     Dale: Again, that no car thing holdin you back.

     Shady: Metal recycling, of course. But them's just sorta starter jobs. I got lots of irons in the fire. And if you folks wanna get in on the ground floor, just visit my web site at

     Dale: That's a real nice website Shady, but I've always wondered about something. Why does it play “Walk Don't Run” the whole time you're visitin' the site?

     Shady: Because it's “Shady Ventures.”

     Dale: I don't get it.

     Shady: Why am I not surprised? We got time for one more.

     Dale: Walk don't run, huh? This last one's from...well actually it don't say who it's from. It says “Dear Shady and Dale, What the...” Oh lord!

     Shady: It says “What the O lord?”

     Dale: No it says “what the” and a word we can't say on the radio.

     Shady: Lemme see that “what the.” Well danged if it don't. Throw that away. That's the reason we don't read e- mail. You got to be willing to sign it.

     Dale: That and the no computer situation.

     Shady: Oh well, yeah. That's all the time we got today for “Shady and Dale's Mailbag” but keep those cards and letters comin in. And remember: if we don't know the answer.

     Dale: We'll make somethin up! (aside) Oh, I get it now, “Walk Don't Run” is by the Ventures. Thats real clever, Shady.

                               Clarence the Cross-eared Angel

      Coming April 1-3, for 3 nights only, the Shadydale Playhouse production of Clarence the Cross-eared Angel. George Bailey as you've never seen him before.

     George: “Maybe it'd be better for everybody if I'd never been born.”

     Clarence: “No, don't say that. Wait a minute. Yeah, that just might work. Alright George, you've got your wish. You've never seen porn.”

(Wind blows)

     George: “Wh. What? Never seen porn? You're crazy little fella' I'm going home to see my wife.”

(Door closes)

     “Mary, Mary, I'm so glad to see you. I've lost $20,000...Mary? Why are you wearing those fishnet stockings and stilettos? You better put something on; you'll catch cold. No? You look like you want me to do something. What is it you want me to do?”

     Clarence: “You don't know what to do because you've never seen porn.”

     George: “Jamie, Johnny, Susie? Get down here. There's something wrong with your mother.”

     Clarence: “You don't have any children, George. You've never seen porn. You didn't know how to make them.”

     George: “Well, of course I have kids. Here I'll show you.”

     Clarence: “Suzu's petals? There not there, George.”


     George: “Maybe it'd be better for everybody if I'd never been born.”

     Clarence: “Alright George, you've got your wish. You've never been warm.”

(Wind blows)

     George: “Wait? What is this? This is not Bedford Falls? Where am I?”

     Clarence: “Fargo, N.D., George. You see you've got your wish. You've never been warm.”

     George: (His teeth chattering) “Well I'm pretty sure I said I wished I'd never been born, but who are you little fella? How can you do stuff like this? Are you a hypnotist?”

     Clarence: “No. I told you George. I'm you're guardian angel.”

     George: “Guardian angel, huh. I must be off my nut here – or you are.

(Police siren)

     George: “Bert! Ernie! You gotta get me outta here. I'm freezing my tail off. Wait a minute, you’re not..”

     Frances McDormand: “Oh sure. It's you George. Talking to the muppets again are you? Mary called and said you'd spent all day at Martini's and left without yer parka again.”


     George: “Maybe it'd be better for everybody if I'd never been born.”

     Clarence: “Alright George, you've got your wish. You've never been bored.”

(Wind blows)

     George: “Whoa! Wait! What is this? It's too much stimuli. What is it? What are you trying to do to me little fella?”

     Clarence: “You've never been bored, George. Your brain never gets to rest.”

     George: “Well that's just crazy.”

     Clarence: “It wasn't my wish.”

     George: “Well it sure wasn't mine. How did you die anyway angel? A lobotomy operation gone wrong?”

     Clarence: “No George. I was run over by a train.”

     George: “Bet you never heard it coming. You know I got one good ear and I hear better'n you.

     Clarence: “Well; I don't know George.”

(Door closes)

     George: “Uncle Billy! Am I glad to see you. I'm bombarded by stimuli. I need to be bored.”

     Uncle Billy: “Try going to church, George. That's always worked for me.

                                     Marvin Hinson at Career Day

      “Today class, we are pleased to have for our Career Day program, Charlene’s dad, Mr. Marvin Hinson. Mr. Hinson is going to tell us about his job, and then he’ll answer questions. Mr. Hinson has his own business. He’s in the “aluminum recycling and bungee cord recovery business.” I’m not really sure myself what that it is, but it sounds real exciting and I’m sure we’ll learn a lot from Mr. Hinson. Mr. Hinson, the sixth grade social studies class is all ears.”

     “Thank ye, Ms. Anderson.

     “Well to put er in a nutshell, my bidness is whur you pick up stuff that other people have thoed away and ye sell it to people who’ll pay ye fer it. Aluminum cans mostly.

     “Now one of the beauties of the aluminum recyclin and bungee cord recovery bidness (I call it arbacker for short) is ye low startup costs. All ye really need to get started is some plastic garbage bags and a public road, the busier the better, and you in bidness.

     “O course if ye aint already got ye some, as soon as ye can sell ye some stuff, ye need to invest in some aint spray, cause the arbacker bidness aint without it’s hazards and one of them hazards is far aints.

     “Now I aint gonna lie to you kids. Aint spray aint gonna stop em far aints frum bitin ye lessin you see them first, but many a far aint attack has been assuaged by the knowledge that ye took out several hunnerd of thur best men in re-venge.

     “Then a course ye need to gitche in some sunscreen and a big straw hat, a Panymaw Joe, cause it gets hot as the bejesus out air beside at asphalt.

     “Then when ye gitche a successful operation like my arbacker has e-volved into, ye need to invest in a smasher and a taser.

     “Ye need a smasher ta make the cans littler cause stompin em widje foot will just about cripple a feller adder a while, and ye need a taser for the dawgs.

      “Now some dawgs is awright a course, but most ofum in my experience have a purticular aversion ta those of us in the arbacker bidness.

     “Ye ever taser ye a dawg kids? Talk about havin ye some fun. Ain’t nothin better’n shootin a dawg wid a taser. They come chargin atche and ye zapem. Then they just lay there quiverin and whining. ‘Ain’t so feisty now are ye big feller?’ I like ta kick dirt in thur face like I’m Billy Martin wid an umpire. ‘What’s that? Ye layin on a far aint pile? You must be one unhappy pooch.’

     “Now a course before I got me my taser I used ta talk real sweet ta dawgs, ‘Hey big boy. Oh you’re such a good dawg.’

     “Now I yell adem frum across the road, ‘Hey ye mangy mongrel! You know whachur mama is?’

     “At always gits em, cause they do. Then they come chargin fer me, and if they don’t git hit crossin the road, I tase em. I like to wait til they leave the ground goin for my throat and then I tase em in mid-air.

     “They just go limp right air in mid-air. And then I like ta hold my arms out like I’m gonna ketchem, and they lookin at me wid sumpin like gratitude in they taser stunned eyes, but then I move out a the way right at the last second and they hit the ground like a tow sack fulla watermelon.

     “But I tell ye whache got to watch out fer is little dawgs. They the meanest and the hardest to hit. You know, them wiener dawgs and chichiwahwahs.

     “I use to date this gal who had one nem real little chichiwahwahs, justa yappin and yappin and yappin all the time. I said to her one time ‘Ernestine, ye know what I like about real little dawgs like thissun.’ She said, ‘What sweetheart?’ I said ‘Ye can throe em so fer it takes em a long time to get back.’

     “I hate em little dawgs but they tase up good. What’s real fun is ta tase ye one, burry it up to it’s neck, put ye a piece of Juicy Fruit on it’s head and wait fer the far aints.

      “Love my taser. It’s gotta world a practical applications too. When you get hungry out there pickin up cans, just tase ye a coupla squirrels, build ye a far, and clean em while they still kickin. Then ye git ye some a them packets a ketchup and hot sauce ye find out on the side a the road. That’s some fine eatin.

      “Yeah, life on the road. They’s some good times out there fer a man with some ambition.

      “You back air widda red har. Ye look like ye got a question little feller.”

      “It’s not a question, Mr. Hinson, I just wanna say arbacker is the funnest sounding career day I ever heard.”

      “Now, hold on thar son. The job aint all glamour, tasing dawgs and makin speeches atchur instetators a hiar larnin. They’s snakes and armadillers.”

     “Can you tase the snakes, Mr. Hinson.”

      “No son, hit just makes em mad. No wid snakes ye just gotta watch whur ye step—ye lookin at the ground mosta the time anyway—an if ye do git close to one ye gotta be real still till hit decides ta leave.

     “I remember one time there was this little wiener dawg comin at me bout fiddy yards away and I’m actin like I don’t see eem, just a sauntnerin along fingerin my taser, when I hear this loud noise and I look down and I’m about a yard’n half frum a coiled up rattler.

     “So then I has ta freeze with wiener dawg closin in…I gotta tell ye, an airborne wiener dawg wid a rattlesnake clamped on it’s neck is a sight to see. Hit made my day.”

     “What about the armadillos, Mr. Hinson, you get attacked by them too?”

     “No young feller. Wid armadillers hits the smell a thur rottin carcusses that gits to ye. Armadillers have worser pedestrian skills than squirrels and ats sayin sumpum.

      “A squirrel ul git a foot frum the other side a the road, see a car comin and decide e caint make it and turn back, but an armadiller ul see that same car comin and say ‘I aint worried, I got body armor.’

     “Little girl widje hand up thar. Ye gotta question?”

     “Yes sir. What do you do with the bungee cords?”

      “Good question. The resale value a lawst bungee cords aint whut ye might think. Mostly ye just end up wid a lotta bungee cords, but lately I’ve taken up bungee jumpin. Startin out small, jumpin off the double-wide mostly, but I’m learnin.

      “One a the first things ye learn is ye gotta have some real good way a securin the other end. I’m here ta tell ye, just havin one a yer younguns holt onto it don’t work atall. Shot my boy Dilbert cross the yard like a spit wad it did.”

     “Mr. Hinson. Surely you must find some interesting and maybe valuable things in your work?”

     “Well Ms. Anderson , lemme think. Found a fiddy dollar bill oncet. Found a nineteen hunerd and thirty-two Cocola bottle. Find a lotta hand tools people was workin on thur car with afore they drove off. Found a bag a marywannie one time. But most of the stuff ye find is used trash wid no resale value, lottery tickets, condoms…”

     “Well class we’re cutting into Justin’s dad time. Let’s everybody give a big hand for Mr. Hinson.”

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