Now let's have a little fun

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      D-Dinty Moore.jpg (4373 bytes)           Dinty Moore

d-maggie.jpg (5564 bytes)

 Maggie                                  

d-jiggs.jpg (5412 bytes)      Jiggs

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Does anyone remember the sign on the watertower corner that read:
CLOSE CUT-OUT
DON'T SPEED
THIS MEANS U

What was a "cut-out"?

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Another sign in Good Thunder on the Bank corner  of Main St:

   PARK CARS
   CENTER OF STREET

Remember that?

 

 

    Dinty Moore and friends came to life
    at the Good Thunder Booster Club

       There was hilarity to spare at the meeting of the Good Thunder Booster Club when Dinty Moore and his friends, Maggie and Jiggs, showed up for a romp on the stage. This was back in the 1930's when Dick Meyers thought up the gag. Now Dick, Richard L. Myers, President and Cashier of the Fist National Bank of Good Thunder, bon vivant and one of the sparkplugs around town, wrote the script for this romp.

     Albert Hunholz, our milkman who delivered milk around town, fresh from the spigots, pure and unpasteurized, was everyone's friend. His hearty laugh, good humor as he exchanged empty bottles for full ones, had all the housewives looking out the lace curtain for his arrival each morning. Albert loved to dress up and he made the ideal "Maggie".

      And then there was Jiggs, poor set-upon husband, target of Maggie's gaboon and her rolling pin, but a real gentleman aboout town. He was none other than my cousin Alfred Kaul. Fritz was a used car salesman that you could trust. I believed him and the 1936 Ford he sold me for $250 lasted for 200,000 miles! Opinions may differ but Fritz was a great guy and a real asset to our town.

     Now the only question remaining is "what was in Dinty Moore's kettle?" the delectable stew that that he kept on stirring. I don't remember what it was. Can anyone out there identify it? Was it chowder -- like "who put the overalls in Mrs. Murphy's chowder? It could have been corned beef and cabbage, could it? It certainly was not our famous southern gumbo.What was it? If you remember, e-mail me at <Rayo@satx.rr.com> and let me add your comments to this page.
                  

Or I will make it easy for you -- click right here on "HI, RAY!"  and you can send me an e-mail

  Now let's get on with more stories:

        THE DUCK DINNER   

     One evening, back in Good Thunder, soon after my new bride and I had fixed up the apartment over the Herald office, very comfortable but not entirely "modern", I made my trip down to the backyard to make sure that the big dipper was still pointing at the north star. I could hear activity up the block and so went to see. There were several cars in front of the pool hall and I walked up. Stan Jacobson kicked a stool over for me and I joined him at the bar. It was "last call" and as we nursed the beer and talked of many things, Stan mentioned that his wife had gone to visit relatives and Alice had left him with a nice mallard, ready for the oven. "How would you like a duck dinner?" he asked. How could I refuse.     
       And so, late as it was, we drove on down the creamery hill, over the bridge at the Maple river, turned into Stan's road and past his melon patch to his house. There we gathered kindling and firewood and lit a fire in the big kitchen range, put in the duck and looked for something to do in the meantime. It was a beautiful evening with a big full moon and we followed ole Sport around the buildings, and wound up in the yard shooting at a tin can on a fence post.  Stan's Woodsman barked and shot a long stream of fire into the night and we actually hit the can several times. When the duck was finally done we feasted on it and it was time to go back home.
         At around three in the morning, I carried my shoes as I carefully went back up the stairs, hoping to crawl into bed without making a fuss. But Shila awoke and sitting up, demanded to know where I had been! "Well", I answered innocently, "Out to a Duck Dinner."
        After the dust settled and it became the job of a newspaperman to report the news, I wrote it in my column and to this day, there is still the story floating around the old home town about the "Duck Dinner".