Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: MONDAY, September 18, 1995 TAG: 9509180122
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: BEN BEAGLE
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
For reasons I don't understand, I got to thinking about how the Waltons might have handled the kind of advertising we have these days - as in Calvin Klein jeans.
Of course, the Waltons didn't have Calvin Klein or even Madonna, but let's get on with it.
Ma Walton is in the kitchen practicing with this recipe that makes pheasant under glass seem common when Grandpa comes in from the sawmill.
"Lo, the sins of one generation pass to another and the children's teeth are set on edge because their fathers have eaten sour grapes," Grandpa says.
"What now, Lord?" Ma Walton says, smoothing the apron over her shapeless dress and patting one of her simple, clunky shoes on the floor.
"Sodom and Gomorrah, that's what," Grandpa says. "If you believe me not, just look at this ad in the county paper for Miss Tillie's Readymade Dresses over to Lovingston."
"Heavens above," says Ma Walton, glancing at the paper.
"Ye see this whore of Babylon, this strange woman with lips of honey, sittin' there as pretty as you please in her new dress and showin' whereat her garters are rolled on her shameless thighs as well as th' lipstick on her knee caps. Hear me, O Israel, for we have come to th' end of our days."
"Be quiet, you old fool," says Grandma, coming into the kitchen. "You've seen worse that that in the Police Gazette."
"I just hope John-Boy doesn't see this," says Ma Walton, distractedly putting flour on her ear.
"I have seen it, Mama," says John-Boy, coming downstairs after hours of writing great prose in his simple copybook. "And I think this is entirely within the First Amendment guarantees of our constitution, and any attempt to suppress it would have a chilling effect thereon."
"That's right, son," says Pa Walton, coming in from the Dew Drop Inn where he has been having a beer with the woman who modeled the dress. "And her knees ain't bad either."
"Hell now yawns wide," says Grandpa.
"Well," says Ma Walton. "I'm a simple country housewife who can outcook anybody you want to name during the Great Depression. I suppose it might be all right, but my silly little country girl mind can't make decisions like that."
This seems to settle the matter, but after everybody has said goodnight with typical Walton precision, Ma Walton sneaks downstairs and throws the county paper into the banked fire in her cook stove.
by CNB