STAN FREBERG HERE...A Failure To Communicate
Stan Freberg here. From time to time I have to repeat myself when the other person is hard of hearing, or simply wasn't paying attention. In a store, I say, "Where are the socks, please?" "The clocks? Right on the wall." "The socks are on the wall?" "Yep. It's a quarter after." Hmm. Be right back. [:60 SPOT BREAK]
Freberg agagin. Even though I pride myself on perfect enunciation, there are times when I seem to have a hard time getting through to various people. Like in a grocery store: "Where's the bread?" "Dead? Who's dead?" I try it the other way around. "Nixon's dead." "Raisin bread? Aisle 4."
Once, my wife and I were visiting Australia. We were at a sportswear shop in a seaside resort outside of Brisbane called "Surfer's Paradise." Another man and I were sitting waiting while our respective wives tried on various bathing suits--bathing costumes, they call them down there.
Every few minutes, my wife would pop out of the fitting room in a different bathing suit, and I'd give a "thumbs up" or "down." Finally, she was through. I said, "Well, I guess we're not gonna see any more suits." The man said to me, "Nope, most places all you need is a sports shirt." Huh???
That's how the world will end, I've decided. Some general, commenting on what's for dinner, will say, "Hmm, we're having mutton," and the lieutenant will think he said, "Push the button," and he will. And we can all kiss our ears goodbye.
I said, "Our EARS!"
Until next time, Stan Freberg here.
Copyright (C)1996, Stan Freberg/Freberg, Ltd. (but not very) Distributed by Dick Brescia Associates and Radio Spirits, Inc.