#Underheard: Pretty Chickens And Their Damn Commercials

From the desk of Broderick Mitchell --

I had just finished my turkey sandwich from Betty Anne’s the other day when I was approached by a stranger wearing overalls. I’m not often approached by strangers out on the street; very few of them are ever wearing overalls. He had just hopped out of a yellow pickup truck blaring rock music (something was “crumbling down” repeatedly) and asked if I had a minute. Long story short, he’s with some national advertising group that does commercials for fast-food chicken (I missed the name in all the suddenness). Apparently, I was selected because I fit the mold of someone who was not already an actor and someone who looked to know a good value. Sure. They want me to come to a studio in Boston and flap my arms and gums about how great someone or another’s fried chicken is, what it means to me, and how it makes me feel. I suspect that for the amount of money being offered, the chicken will make me feel great. I’m debating whether or not to go through with it. Plus, I’m not yet convinced this wasn’t a belated senior prank.

Did I hear that correctly – that actor Karl Madden has died? Indeed! Item! Madden played alongside Marlin Brando in several great films, particularly On the Waterfront. I always liked his Father Barry – except that he reminds me a bit of Father Varnt here at Coalmac.

Is anyone else watching these cricket matches on television? I like the way the guy...the pitcher? Bowler? I like the way the bowler winds up for the pitch. My favorite person on the field is still the umpire. Stoic, unnerved by the bowler, un-wowed by the wicket, hands behind his back, and the hat. Always with the hat.

One of the other librarians here had the university radio station on when a few of us came in on a recent Saturday to prepare for the second summer school session. It was a Classic Rock show, and after a few songs on a similar theme, we discussed which song was more evil: Evil Woman by Electric Light Orchestra or Cliff Richard's Devil Woman. I offered up Paradise by the Dashboard Light to even the playing field. This led to which of the four classical elements was evil (air, of course, you dolt) and then the evilest foods in the four food groups.

While my definition of the four food groups may be outdated, the following was my take. In the dairy group I’ve always had a certain appreciation for the way cottage cheese curds have such a negative impact on people (what I call “sway of whey”). Fruit – historically the apple, I suppose, but in looks it’s gotta be the durian. In the vegetable group, pick a root vegetable. Any of those are equally evil, but the turnip goes the extra mile. As far as grains are concerned, after all these years, rice is the evilest, vilest, and hands-down all-around worst to me. Particularly what my wife passes off as “Spanish rice,” which is nothing more than over-steamed white rice with tiny chunks of tomatoes that overdoesed on cumin. That’s evil you can taste.

I’m thinking of avoiding the fireworks frenzy this Fourth and just ringing bells—like they used to. I might also bring up that old gong from the basement and put it in the backyard. That alone should keep the neighborhood animals at bay. Pretty rank, I know.

Has anyone else ever wondered what would have happened if Joe hadn’t been caught going 'round with a gun in his hand?