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Show 77, Jeffries, Islamorada [Section 2] if we can make it, it's The Best of Carson--" Dorian lasted only minutes past Walter Cronkite. An individual was waxing a car in a junkyard. Dory stole a worried glance at his hosts. Into The Liar's Club the coach's wife noticed his anxiety and on the side asked her husband if there was something she could fix him. Where's the bath oil? The TV began. In the soap dish. But that's soap in the soap dish. That's not soap, that's CARESS. But where's the bath oil? In the CARESS! The visitor screamed like a Zen-master and hurled himself out the open sliding door to the patio and the lawn from which, with a wild, cornered look, he glared back at the little family, appealing, "Bloody Orwellian non sequiters!" "That's a crazy man," the assistant coach's wife said. "He's getting too theatrical," her husband agreed, watching his associate disappearing up toward the highway, "but that's the way he works." "Well he ought to leave it on the job." "The boy's too nervous, too high-strung, part of the problem I think is he's up in the barns at Hialeah, hanging around those racehorses. . Sleepwalking through his job like Bob Newhart's idea of a psychologist, the guidance counselor came upon Mr. Clayton in the permanent record cards. |
