Icebox Follies a Sidesplitter

The Dill Pickle Club put on its annual "Icebox Follies," and this one was the best yet.

Grady Kilgore was cast as Shirley Temple, who sang "On the Good Ship Lollipop." I wonder if everyone knew what pretty legs our sheriff has?

And my own other half, Wilbur Weems, sang "Red Sails in the Sunset" I thought it was good, but then, I'm no judge. I hear him every day in the shower. Ha. Ha.

The most hilarious skit was a skit depicting Reverend Scroggins, played by Idgie Threadgoode, and Vesta Adcock, played by Pete Tidwell

Opal did all the hair and makeup, and Ninny Threadgoode, Biddie Louise Otis, and yours truly made all the costumes.

The so-called "dangerous animal" in the Mutt and Jeff skit was none other than Dr. and Mrs. Hadley's bulldog, Ring, in a gas mask.

All the proceeds go to the Christmas fund to aid all the needy here in Whistle Stop and in Troutville.

I wish this old war would hurry up and be over with; we sure do miss all our boys.

By the way, Wilbur tried to join the army the other day. Thank God, he's too old and has flat feet, or we'd really be in trouble.

... Dot Weems...

JULY 28, 1986

Evelyn had gained back all the weight she had lost on her diet plus eight more pounds. She was so upset, she did not notice that Mrs. Threadgoode had her dress on inside out again.

They were busy eating a five-pound box of Divinity Fudge when Mrs. Threadgoode said, "I'd kill for a pat of butter. This margarine they serve out here tastes like lard. We had to eat so much of that stuff in the Depression, I don't want to ever have to eat it again. So I just do without, and I have my toast dry, with plain apple butter.

"Come to think of it, Idgie and Ruth bought the cafe in 1929, right in the height of the Depression, but I don't think we ever had margarine there. Leastways, I cain't recall if we did. It's odd, here the whole world was suffering so, but at the cafe, those Depression years come back to me now as the happy times, even though we were all struggling. We were happy and didn't know it.

"A lot of nights we'd all sit around up at the cafe and just listen to the radio. We'd listen to Fibber McGee and Molly, Amos and Andy, Fred Allen... oh, I cain't remember what all we'd listen to, but they were all good. I cain't look at any of these programs they put on the TV today. Just people shootin’ their guns and shoutin’ insults at each other. Fibber McGee and Molly didn't shout at each other. Amos and Andy used to shout a little, but that was funny. And the colored people on the TV now are not near as sweet as they used to be. Sipsey would have Big George's hide if he talked as smart aleck as some of them do.

"It's not just TV. Mrs. Otis was over at the supermarket one day and she told this little colored boy that was passing by that she would give him a nickel if he'd lift her groceries in her car for her, and she said that he cut his eyes at her, mean-like, and just walked away. Oh, and it's not just the colored people, either. Back when Mrs. Otis was driving, before she hit that stack of grocery carts, people would run up behind us and blow their horns something awful, and when they passed us, some of them would give us the finger. I never saw such behavior. There's no call to be that ugly.

"I don't even want to look at the news anymore. Everybody fighting each other. They ought to give those boys some tranquilizers and quiet them down for a while. That's what they gave Mr. Dunaway. I think all the bad news affects people, makes them so mean. So whenever the news comes on, I just cut it off.

"Lately, for the past ten years or so, I have just taken to looking at my religious programs. I like the P.T.L. Club. They have a lot of smart men on that program. I send money every once in a while, if I have any. And I listen to Camp Meeting U.S.A., from seven to eight, every night. And I like Oral Roberts and the Seven Hundred Club. I like just about all of them, except that woman with the makeup, and she'd be all right if she just didn't cry all the time. Oh, she cries if she's happy and she cries when she's sad. I'm telling you, she can cry at the drop of a hat. Now, there's one that needs her hormones. And I don't like preachers that yell all the time. I don't know why they want to yell when they have a microphone right in their hands. When they get to yelling like that, we just switch them over.

And I'll tell you another thing, the funnies in the paper are not funny anymore. I remember when you could always get a laugh out of Gasoline Alley or Wee Willie Winkle. And I loved that Little Henry... oh, the scrapes Little Henry could get himself in.

"I just don't believe people are happy anymore, not like they used to be. You never see a happy face, at least I don't. I said to Mrs. Otis when Frances carried us out to the mall, I said, 'Look at all these people pulling such dried-up, sour little faces, even the youngsters.'"

Evelyn sighed. "I wonder why people have gotten so mean, anymore...”

"Oh, it's all over the world, honey. The end of times are coming. Now, we may go to the year two thousand, but I doubt it. You know, I listen to a lot of good preachers and they're all saying we're in our last time. They say it's in the Bible in Revelations.... Of course, they don't know. Nobody knows but the good Lord.

"I don't know how long the good Lord is going to let me live but I'm in the jumping-off years, you know that. That's why I live every day like it could be my last. I want to be ready. And that's why I don't say anything about Mr. Dunaway and Vesta Adcock. We have to live and let live."

Evelyn felt she had to ask. "What about them?"

"Oh, they think they're in love. That's what they say. Oh, you should have seen them holding hands and smooching all over the place. Mr. Dunaway's daughter found out about it and came out here and threatened to sue the nursing home. Called Mrs. Adcock a hussy!"

"Oh no."

"Oh yes, honey... said she was trying to steal their daddy away from them. It was a big mess, and they took Mr. Dunaway back home. They were afraid he and Mrs. Adcock would try to have relations, I guess. I think that's a dream long dead, myself. Geneene said he lost his activities years ago and couldn't possibly harm a fly... so what would a little hugging and kissing hurt? Vesta is heartbroken. No telling what she’ll do next.

“But tell you one thing, they don’t give much slack out here.”

Evelyn said, “I guess not.”

AUGUST 1, 1945

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