Dear Mister Ed

D’you ever get the feelin’ the more the world goes foreword the farther back it gets? Near as I can tell from the news of late, thats jest a fact of modren life.

Take the fambly farm, fr’instants. Please.

It aint exsactly front page news that times are tuff around the old manuer pile these days. With one thing and the next thats how its been fer years.

I cant recolleckt how old I was first time I heard someone say the best way to be a farmer is first win a millyun dollars then work yer heart out nite and day till the moneys all gone.

So I did’nt bat an eye when I heard some unniversity feller say it wont be long now till that slab of Sunday meat on yer dinner table aint from the farm at all.

It wont even be cut off a pig or a cow, but whipped up in a facktry somewheres and sold in a store near you with a name like I Cant Beleave it Aint Meat.

Well whoop-de-doo, I says, it sounds like the world of big thinkers finely found out about artifishul meat.

Why I wanta know is where these fellers have been hidin’ all there lives? Artifishul meat has been around fer years. Its called a hot dog.

They also make it in cans, with fansy names like Clik and Clak and Spik and Spam. Dont know how you feel about it Darroll, but personly I’d jest as soon eat the can as whats inside.

And speakin’ of spam, the other news that made me laff this week was about the forrin govamints itchin’ to know whose been talkin’ to who on there high-teck sell fones.

They want the fone makers to give’em a list of evrybody thats got one and what there number is, so’s they can keep an ear on things.

Holey old Nelley. Forget what you ever feared about Big Brother and 1984. If this catches on, we’re headin’ strait back to 1954, maybe a lot sooner.

Back then, leastwise in PEI, they had a list that told you who had a fone and how to get ahold of’em. It was called a fone book.

The govamint did’nt need to twist itself in two, or get the Simon Says from a judge to find out who was hooked up with who and what they was yakkin’ about.

All the naybors knew whatever they needed about any other body on the same party line.

You jest lissen fer someones line to ring, and after a minnit pick up yer own fone reel qwiet. Not that any of us ever did, mind you. But we cud of.

And forget Face Books and Tweeters. If you was of a mind to find out where someone was at and what they was up to, one long ring wud get you Milly McCardle.

If she cud’nt tell you, she was’nt hardly fit to be the Operator was she?

Yer pal,

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