Dear Mr Ed

Darroll, Darroll, Darroll. What in the name of Sam Heck have you went and done now?

You cudda tipped me over with a fether when some one told me you was puttin’ yerself out to paschur.

“Yup, he’s headed fer the old rockin’ chair” is what they said.

I never heard such a load of foolishness in all my days, whitch is one heckofa lot more’n what there is under yer belt.

My stars and garters, man, yer still in the prime of yer time. Last I heard tell, you still had yer own teeth and even a tad bit of hair left up top.

Its far too soon to set back on yer honker to eat prunes all day and tell the grand kids over and over how you won the war and walked 120 miles to skool with no shoes.

Fer goodness sake, I must of had at least 20 years on you when I sold the farm and called myself retired. And you recall how that turned out.

It took me all of a week to figger out I was goin’ stark starin’ bonkers from boardom. I cud’nt wait to get back in harness.

But dont take my word on it. Look at that old gaffer that was at the Youcon Art Scenter a few days back.

I beleave it was Andy Roony, the feller that useta bump his gums on the televishun about how the worlds goin’ to hell in a hand cart.

Or was it Micky Roony, the one that played Andy Hardy in the fillums when I was a kid and got marryed more times than you can count, but never to Judy Garland?

Whitchever one it was, the point is the fellers crowdin’ 100 and still dont have a clue what the word retire means. He may be haff yer size, Darroll, but theres someone you shud look up to.

Now if you was to tell me yer goin’ thru a change of life on accounta you won the lottry, or tripped across the Mother Load in the Klondyke, thats a diffrent matter all together.

If that was the case, we mite jest bend the rules of geezerhood and let you join our ranks afore yer time.

But what I wanta know is, whose gonna help me keep track of all the wonderfull Youconners that are singin’ and pickin’ and dancin’ and paintin’ and fishin’ and makin’ beer and havin’ folks over fer Barby Q?

Most of all, who’m I gonna use fer a pen pal up there now?

Tell you what. Jest stay where yer at fer a spell. This years vegtable crop is mostly picked, so I’m gonna crank up my Smart little car and come talk some scents into you.

But if yer gonna be stubborn about it, all I can say is its been grate chattin’ with you. Good luck in what ever you and yer bride get up to next.

See you in the funny papers.

Yer pal,

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