Originally broadcast on CHED Radio, Edmonton, Alberta Canada. Date unknown. Labeled #5

POEM: The Woman Curler

Behold, she rises early, 

She feeds her flock, and then

She grabs her faithful, trusty broom

And she's off to curl again.

The dishes? Leave them in the sink. 

The work? She'll leave that too,

Because around this time of year

There are better things to do.

At parties she just wouldn't think

Of wearing something old.

She watches all her colours,

Keeps them simple, nothing bold. 

Perhaps she owns a fine Dior,

She's keen on fashion’s way,

But take a look at Lulu

When she goes to curl today. 

Her cap is black and white and red,

She wears Siwash thick

That's knitted up in brown and gold

and white and blue and brick.

Her pants are baggy round the knees,

The colours in them clash,

She looks just like a paratrooper

Who walked away from crash.

But one thing I have noticed; 

If she's a little short on style,

I've never seen a woman curler

Who didn't wear a smile.

Just stand there at the rink door

And watch the girls go in,

And you will notice, buddy boy

They all wearing the same big grin.

They always have a warm hello

They’ve time to hear a joke.

They don't care if a fellow curler

Is filthy rich or broke.

They get a lot from curling

Be it championship or "flub".

God bless the woman curler

From the Woman's Curling Club.

Originally broadcast on CHED Radio, Edmonton, Alberta Canada. Date unknown. Labeled #3

If you read time and life and those other periodicals that come to us from south of the border, you have no doubt followed the events leading up to the Republican convention, when Goldwater, Scranton, Lodge and Rockefeller were fighting it out, we read a lot about getting back to the “mainstream” of Republican thinking. Well, I have never been a strong believer in advocating that the populace of any country should submerge themselves in the “mainstream” of political thought. To me, “mainstream” and “conformity” are exactly the same thing and I have never been one for conformity. Here in our own country, the political parties draw closer and closer together and it's hard to tell one from the other without program. In politics, in religion, in the arts, in all fields which affect our lives, there is a crying need for left-of-centre thinkers, right-of-centre thinkers and for some “mainstreamers". Nations need to grow. We must entertain new ideas and question their validity. People should challenge long held theories and beliefs rather than accepting them just because they have been around so long. What we need in this country and in every country is a few more people who are willing to swim against the current, people who are eager to channel off the “mainstream" to see if something more worthwhile shows up in the backwash. When you read the goings on in our own Parliament, do you not often feel that you’ve heard it all before, that it is just the same old stuff your grandfather was asked to digest. I'm no revolutionary, but I do think a little civic thinking is now required of intelligent people everywhere.

Originally broadcast on CHED Radio, Edmonton, Alberta Canada. Date unknown. Labeled #12

I have just read two very excellent books on what I feel to be related subjects. The first book concerning the progress and problems of the American space race. The second book is concerned with the folklore of American weather. How related? Well, in sending man off into the wild blue yonder, it is extremely important that the scientists be able to chart the weather more accurately than they have in the past. At the present time, scientists at Stanford University are working on a computer that will digest millions of facts and figures about the weather and will be able to come up with a ‘rain or shine’ prediction for the following day. However, the scientists say there are some bugs in the machine.  If what I read in the second book is true, they should be left there.  Eric Sloane, who wrote Folklore of American Weather, says bugs can give you a good idea of what the weather will be, especially the Katydids and Crickets. Here’s the old Yankee formula. When the Katydid says “katy-didn’t”, the temperature is 87 degrees. When the Katydid says “katy-did”, it’s 72 degrees. When it just says “katy”, it’s a cool 65. When he cuts down to a brisk “kate” it’s 58, and frost is coming soon. An even better thermometer is the cricket. Sloan says, “Count the cricket chirps for fourteen seconds, add forty, and you will have the exact temperature where the cricket is." Will you tell me how come the Stanford University people don't have this important information?

Originally broadcast on CHED Radio, Edmonton, Alberta Canada. Date unknown. Labeled #9

Right now, I want to go on record as saying that TV is destroying American and Canadian family. No, it's not the westerns and the private eye shows that I take exception to, it's the family shows. Its guys like Mr. Anderson in Father Knows Best and that syrup-sweet mother in the Donna Reed show. These people are giving our kids the wrong impression of what to expect from their folks. Did you ever hear Mr. Anderson scream at the kids on a wet Sunday afternoon when they are all cooped together? Does Donna Reed EVER lose her temper and haul off and belt one of the kids? As a matter of fact, do the kids ever give them reason to? Even the commercials are destroying us. You see father in his big easy chair smoking his pipe and reading the paper with big grin on his face, and mother, she's knitting a sock and beaming at the kiddies with a great big grin on her face, and the four little ones are playing tiddlywinks on the rug, all getting along like a batch of angels, and they all have grins on their faces. And it's one great big rosy world because they all can’t brush their teeth after eating, but are protected by CL 70. Never a belt in the ear, never a fight in the Corridor, never a raised voice, never to bed without supper, and if a little dirt should be brought into the house by the kiddies, all the idiots run around singing "Mr. Clean, Mr. Clean, he cleans in just a minute, Mr. Clean cleaned your whole house and everything that's in it." And, of course, they all have the idiot grin on their faces. Just try talking like this; it's impossible. Can you imagine Junior sticking his head in the door and saying with the idiot grin,"Mommy, I just threw sis in the automatic washer", and you say, "I hope you used CHEER, dear. So she'll come out whiter than white.” And the kid says “I didn't, mommy, I used ZEST. For the first time in her life she'll be really clean." Yes, sir, TV is destroying the home. How many sets have I got? Two, of course, why be half safe?

Originally broadcast on CHED Radio, Edmonton, Alberta Canada. Date unknown. Labeled #2

I have just read another article on how you ladies can keep your husband alive. According to all of these articles, and they are all true, we men are burning ourselves out. We are becoming old men before our time. Our life expectancy is 46. We are trying to keep the pace that we ourselves have set. Now then, we HAVE to do that because we have a certain standard of living which we must maintain and improve year-by-year. BUT, you can help us stay alive if you’ll do a few simple things. First thing in the morning, you get out of bed...let him have that extra few minutes in the sack. You get the kids washed, dressed and fed, and then serve hubby his breakfast. Feed the baby in another room because the noise of the baby crying for his meal gets father off to a bad start and ruins his whole day. When he phones you, if he phones you during the day, don't tell him about the baby drinking the turpentine, or the kids breaking the window next door, or the preserves boiling over on the stove, or the nine fistfights you've had in the backyard, or the bills that came in or the cough the baby has. DON’T worry him, he has worries of his own. After all he has that business luncheon at the Petroleum Club, and he must be in good form. And at night, let him relax when he comes home. You cook the dinner, wash the kids, feed the baby, keep it silent around the house, get his slippers, his pipe, his paper, and when you're finished with the dishes, bathing the kids and putting them to bed, tell him about all the nice things that happened to you during the day. All the pleasant little things. Make sure, too, that he gets two days off each week to hunt, or golf, or play poker with the boys, and see to it that he gets away on a vacation alone at least once a year, and, oh yes, don't bother him about clearing the snow off the walks, you do it. Hard on his heart you know. In this way your husband can stand the awful pace of business today and live to a ripe old age. Mind you, you will die at 32 just as sure as shootin’...butt papa, he’ll have it made till he's 99. So there you have girls. How about it? Don't you want to help keep your husband alive?