WIP: DYNAMIC DUO OF THE OZARKS

NOTE: This is a later chapter. Mykel is asked to help with a remote at a boat show. They needed a girl to model a swimsuit and Sherry volunteers. As with many radio remotes, things go wrong. We meet Lovable Lance’s rival from country radio station K-B-U-B, Cousin Clyde. Also pay close attention to the little boy. Comment if you pick up anything about him.

Saturday was the day of the Springville Boating, Sports and Recreation Show at the fairgrounds pavilion. A wonderful diversion for the community that had been buried under snow and ice. Something to give them hope was that summer was on the way.

Mykel had been told that this would be the first remote broadcast that he would experience with some of the radio station staff.    There was supposed to be a high school girl that Bud Smith knew, that was going to model a swimsuit from Lehrs Department Store. At some point, Bud said the girl’s parents didn’t want her to do the modeling, although everyone thought that they probably did want their daughter hanging out with Bud.

Mykel had been talking about the dilemma that the radio station faced, and Sherry immediately accepted the challenge. Mykel told Lance and Zella, who handled the Lehrs account, that Sherry was volunteering to wear the swimsuit at the boat show on Saturday. The one odd condition was that, due to some strange, prudish city ordinance in Springville, women involved in a public performance, or public exhibition must not “show bare legs.”  Zella and Lehrs had Sherry wear a pair of Glen Raven seamless, coffee-colored, pantyhose, with the blue, Jantzen, one-piece swimsuit. The great thing was Sherry got to keep the swimsuit and pantyhose as a form of payment.

Lehrs had also donated the big giveaway item. The radio station was having a drawing for a Zenith, 25 inch, early American console, color television with a remote control ($900 value). They were also giving away free bottles of Pepsi and Mountain Dew, small bags of Kitty Clover potato chips, K-I-L-L bumper stickers, and the Killer Hit Countdown sheets for that week. Zella had draped the cloth K-I-L-L banner over the long table provided by fairground administrators. Lovable Lance, of course, had on his sunglasses and his K-I-L-L red blazer. He told Mykel to wear sunglasses too, because “You should always greet your public in your shades.”

Zella gushed when Sherry walked up to the booth in the swimsuit, “Oh honey, you just look so gay and summery!” She then turned to Lance and informed him, “Melinda and Mr. K are coming over. They have a surprise promotional item for us…and the popcorn machine.”

Lovable Lance groaned. “That thing smokes and burns the popcorn most of the time.”

“He thinks he fixed something that caused it to smoke, and Melinda is going to help him with it,” Zella reassured Lance. “Besides, we are already running low on the potato chips.”

Across the way, K-R-C-A was set up with a modest, but brightly colored banner with picture of Nipper and his record machine on one side and the peacock and “snakes” on the other. It was some salesmen giving away K-R-C-A fountain pens, pocket calendars, rubber jar openers and potholders “for the ladies.” They were offering a chance to win an electric carving knife or a cemetery monument. Surprisingly they had no monitor tuned to their radio station.

On a row behind K-I-L-L was K-B-U-B, or as Lovable Lance, T. R and Matt liked to call them “Kay Boob.” They had several of the “K-B-U-B Cowpokes” running around in their blue, denim, Western shirts and their red, straw, children’s cowboy hats. They had a large sign with their familiar logo, which was their call letters spelled out in red, barn wood. They also had a speaker blasting their radio station playing latest Johnny Cash, George Jones, Loretta Lynn, and Buck Owens songs, interspersed with a smattering of songs about driving trucks and how much fun it will be to go fight in Vietnam. They were giving away ash trays and hand fans with their logo on them. The main attraction at the K-B-U-B booth was Cousin Clyde, who was their version of Lovable Lance. Lovable Lance could not stand Cousin Clyde.

“He is the most arrogant jackass on the planet,” Lovable Lance told Mykel and Sherry. “He acts like he is the greatest radio program director in the world. He is big on not playing stuff that would ‘upset the fine folks of Springville.’ His GM, Chuck Green, says he is planning on taking all the Roger Miller and Eddy Arnold songs out of rotation, because he says they aren’t making ‘real country music records anymore.’ You know, his real name is Francis Bullingame VI, and the rest of the men in his old, wealthy family are lawyers and law professors in Georgia…all William and Mary grads. He was practicing family law and apparently got in trouble for cheating a widow and her kids out of their inheritance, so he wound up working at a country radio station in Valdosta. When K-B-U-B put out the word that they were going ‘all Country and Western,’ Cousin Clyde sent them an aircheck tape…low and behold they hired him to work in Springville.”

Lovable Lance took a drag from his L & M Short and then blew smoke out of his mouth, across his goatee, like a rocket blasting off at Cape Canaveral. “The Ivy League, Southern lawyer, traded his suit and briefcase for a Stetson cowboy hat and bib overalls, so he can play music for the hillbillies of the Ozarks, while lecturing us on how good things were in the good ole days and how everyone under thirty is stupid.” He took another drag off his L & M Short and continued, “If he isn’t saying stuff like that, it’s that stupid slogan of his ‘Two things I love are fishing and being an American.’ Like he has cornered the market on being an American. Ugh! I think he may be who is circulating the rumor that I sleep in a casket. The bad part is Wally was a carbon copy of him before we changed formats.” He looked at his watch and said, “Speaking of which, his shift is wrapping up, so it is about time for me to begin broadcasting from this dog and pony show.”

He then reached under the table, and pulled out a round, imitation leather case. He unsnapped the shiny brass clasp and opened the case to produce a helmet with a microphone attached.

“This is a new toy that Mr. Ketner thinks is going to help us do great remotes,” Lance said.

“That looks like the Buck Rogers helmet I had when I was eight years old,” Mykel remarked.

“That makes sense. This is supposedly the future of radio broadcasting,” Lance joked as he slid the helmet on his head. Sherry and Mykel burst into laughter. Zella threw her head back and laughed so loud that most of the people in the pavilion heard her.

“Oh Lance, that just becomes you!” she laughed.

“I can’t hear you very good Matt, but it is air-time so play the ‘Out and About’ jingle and put me on,” Lance told Matt, who was running the board back at the radio station.

The ‘Out and About’ jingle played, and Lovable Lance began talking, “HEY, HEY, EVERYBODY THIS IS LOVABLE LANCE OF K-I-DOUBLE-L…” Then, the fairground pavilion was engulfed in an ear piercing, electronic scream of feedback, which caused everyone in the pavilion to wince, gnash their teeth, and look daggers at the K-I-L-L booth. It disappeared and the monitor began bouncing with ‘Take Five’ by The Spotnicks.

“Matt, I’m going to the back up. I was afraid this thing wouldn’t work,” Lovable Lance said. “Everyone in this building hates us right now.” Lance put the strange looking helmet back in the leather case and got out of a metal case a standard microphone and headphones, plugged it into the phone box. He then said to Mathew, “Matt, can you hear me now?”

“Loud and clear now,” Mathew answered. “I’ll put you on after the song ends.”

The song ended and Lovable Lance went on, “HEY HEY, EVERYBODY THIS IS LOVABLE LANCE OF THE BIG THIRTEEN HUNDRED K-I-DOUBLE-L AND I AM OUT AT THE SPRINGVILLE BOAT, SPORTS, AND RECREATION SHOW AT THE FAIRGROUND PAVILION. WE WANT YOU TO TALK YOUR FOLKS INTO COMING TO VISIT US OUT HERE. WE HAVE FREE PEPSI AND FREE SAMPLES OF THE NEW STUFF, MOUNTAIN DEW. WE ALSO HAVE KITTY CLOVER TATER CHIPS, K-I-DOUBLE-L BUMPER STICKERS, AND KEYCHAINS. WE WILL ALSO HAVE HOT BUTTERED POPCORN AND A SURPRISE GIVE AWAY, PLUS YOU CAN REGISTER TO WIN A COLOR TV FROM LEHRS DEPARTMENT STORE ON THE SQUARE. WE ALSO HAVE A PRETTY, BLONDE GIRL AT OUR BOOTH WEARING SWIMSUIT FROM LEHRS. COME BY AND GET A GOOD LOOK AT HER! OF COURSE, YOU CAN MEET ME, LOVABLE LANCE POWERS IN PERSON! RIGHT NOW, IT IS TIME FOR THE NEW SONG BY THE BEACH BOYS APPROPRIATELY ABOUT A BOAT! IT’S CALLED ‘SLOOP JOHN B’ ON THE BIG THIRTEEN HUNDRED – K-I-DOUBLE-L!”

“Okay Mathew, next let’s play ‘Sea Cruise’ by Hondells next.” When the Beach Boys record ended, Matt fired a liner and then started the Hondells record, which kept with the boating theme.

A young woman, probably in her early twenties, walked over to the booth with a little boy around five years old. Her hair was in a mountainous beehive that was the color of stove blacking, white lipstick, and blue eye shadow with thick, black eyeliner that made her look like a raccoon. She had a Pall Mall Long in the corner of her mouth. She held the little boy’s right wrist rather tight. The little boy was chewing on the left cuff of his Batman sweatshirt.

The little boy was a handsome lad with sandy, brown hair, and eyes to match, dressed in a St. Louis Cardinals ball cap, a Batman sweatshirt, blue jeans, and P-F Flyers.       

“You’uns givin any free stuff?” the woman asked. Lovable Lance was annoyed by this question since he had just told the listeners and people within earshot of the speakers what they were giving away.

“We have cold Pepsi and Mountain Dew,” Zella explained to the woman. “We also have Kitty Clover Potato Chips. We also have bumper stickers.”

“What kinda chips ya want? I ain’t gittin ya somethin to drink cause you will spill it,” the young woman said to the boy.

“I’d like bar-b-que,” the little boy said.

Zella looked in the box that held the small bags of chips. She perused every bag in the box. “Honey, I’m afraid we’re out of the bar-b-cue chips. We have plain or green onion.”

“No! I want the bar-b-cue chips!” The little boy became upset.

“They’re outta bar-b-cue. You’ll hafta eat plain or onion,” the woman yelled at the kid.

“I want bar-b-cue chips!” the child yelled back and began shaking uncontrollably.

“If yer gonna throw one of them hissy fits of yers, I’m just gonna leave ya here!” the gal yelled at the little, upset boy. “Yer daddy can come git ya, if he wants ya!” The gal stormed off through the crowd. The little boy collapsed on the floor, in front of the K-I-L-L booth, screaming and crying at the top of his lungs. He started hitting his head on the pavilion floor, over and over.

“Honey, don’t hit your head on the floor, you might hurt yourself,” Zella said to the little boy. Mykel and Sherry didn’t know what to do, other than continue handing out bumper stickers, the remaining potato chip bags, and bottles of soda to the people stopping by. Lance was getting peeved about the situation. The child bellowed out like Tarzan calling all the jungle animals to aid him in an adventure. People began staring in the direction of the K-I-L-L booth again.

“Zella, you’ve had kids, can’t you do something?” Lovable Lance asked. “I’ve got to go on-the-air live after this song.”

“Frank and I had little girls,” Zella explained. “I don’t know what to do with little boys. Melinda has a little boy. She and Mr. Ketner are supposed to be here soon. Maybe she will know what to do.”

The Hondells record ended, and Matt played the “Out and About” jingle, which meant Lovable Lance was going to have to go on and try to talk over the screaming child.

“HEY HEY, EVERYBODY THIS IS LOVABLE LANCE OF THE BIG THIRTEEN HUNDRED K-I-DOUBLE-L AND I AM OUT AT THE SPRINGVILLE BOATS AND RECREATION SHOW AT THE FAIRGROUND PAVILION! YOU NEED TO COME OUT HERE AND SEE ALL THE GREAT STUFF ON DISPLAY! WE’VE GOT BOATS, ANPHIBICARS, MOTORCYCLES, MINIBIKES, CAMPERS, AND MOTORHOMES…MATTER OF FACT, YOU HEAR THIS?” Lovable Lance held the microphone near this little, crying boy, then told listeners, “THAT IS A GUY WHOSE WIFE WOULDN’T LET HIM GET A WINNIBAGO. WE ALSO HAVE SOME CARS AND PICKUP TRUCKS. WE ALSO HAVE FISHING, CAMPING AND HUNTING GEAR! WE ARE GIVING AWAY K-I-DOUBLE-L BUMPER STICKERS, KEYCHAINS, FREE PEPSI AND MOUNTAIN DEW, KITTY CLOVER CHIPS, AND VERY SOON WE WILL HAVE HOT BUTTERED POPCORN. WE ALSO HAVE A LOVELY MODEL NAMED SANDY IN A SWIMSUIT FROM LEHR’S DEPARTMENT STORE.”

“My name is Sherry,” Sherry said, although Lovable Lance couldn’t hear her with his headphones on and the little boy, still, crying loudly.

“YOU CAN ALSO REGISTER FOR A DRAWING TO WIN A 25 INCH COLOR TELEVISION FROM LEHR’S. SO COME ON OUT TO THE SPRINGVILLE BOAT, SPORTS, AND RECREATION SHOW AT THE FAIRGROUND PAVILION! I’M LOVABLE LANCE POWERS AND I WANTED TO GET CRAZY WITH THE SONICS AND ‘PSYCHO’ ON THE BIG THIRTEEN-HUNDRED K-I-DOUBLE-L!”

The song began will a heavy drum roll followed by the lead singer letting out the first of many blood curdling screams in the song. The little boy squealed out, as if in pain. Through his tears he yelled, “I don’t like screaming!”

“That’s the pot calling the kettle black,” Lovable Lance mumbled as he lit up an L & M short. Lance then spoke over the box phone to Matt. “Hey Matt, a minor change here. As you can hear, we have an unhappy child, who was abandoned at the booth, so play that newest Bob Dylan record or a cut off one of his LPs. Maybe his family will come back and claim him…Thanks!”

Mykel said to Lance, “Uh, Lance, my friend’s name is Sherry. You called her Sandy.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize I did that,” Lovable Lance said. “I’ll get it right next time.”

A K-I-L-L jingle played and then, Matt chose “Tombstone Blues” by Bob Dylan to play until the problem of the crying boy was rectified.

As if the crying, abandoned boy wasn’t enough of a problem, the booth was getting an unwanted visit from the competition’s star, Cousin Clyde. Cousin Clyde was a big, red-faced man, with a toothbrush mustache, that made him look like Oliver Hardy. He was wearing a pair of black, square-framed, brow line glasses. On his head was a brown, pinch front Stetson cowboy, rather than the small, red ‘kiddie’ cowboy hats that his co-workers were wearing. He was dressed in overalls, that looked like the over-sized overalls that were usually hanging from the ceiling in clothing stores, and they were kind of tight on him. He was wearing a short-sleeved shirt that was so thin, you could see his sleeveless, undershirt beneath it. Over his right breast was a button reading, “Vote Monty Derpy for Springville Mayor.” Many adults were running up and shaking hands with Cousin Clyde as he walked toward the K-I-L-L booth.

“Look at these people…fawning over him like he is the president of the United States!” Lovable Lance grumbled.

“I don’t think the people in Springville would be as excited to see L-B-J,” Zella remarked.

Cousin Clyde waddled up to the booth, almost stepping on the little, crying boy, who was lying in front of the booth. “I always thought your listeners were probably a bunch of bratty kids,” Cousin Clyde snarked. “This proves it.”

“He got upset because we were out of the Bar-B-Que Kitty Clover Potato Chips and his mother just left him here,” Zella explained. “We are hoping she or his father comes back to take him home.”

    “You know, we have gallant boys going to fight, to protect our freedoms, in Vietnam and this stupid, little kid is bawlin because he didn’t get the flavor of tater chips he wanted. If he was my kid, I’d give him something to cry about. I ought to put him in a box and send him to Vietnam. See what Ho Chi Minn will do with him.”

The little boy screamed louder, as if he knew what Cousin Clyde was implying, and crawled under the cloth banner, laid on his back and continued to cry at top volume.

Cousin Clyde then decided to use Mykle and Sherry as his next target. “So, what is the deal, Lance? You have a young girl that is half-nekkid, and another young girl dressed like you.”

“Excuse me, Mister, but I’m a boy!” Mykel snapped back.

“I hope the rest of the boys in Springville don’t start wearing their hair like girls, they won’t be able to tell which is which and the boys will start dating other boys,” Cousin Clyde said, before launching into a tirade about young people.

“I worry about the future of this great nation when I see kids like this so-called boy and half nekkid girl…and that bawling brat under your table. Kids used to work on farms and in factories from sunup to sundown. Now their brains are being turned mush by that noise your radio station calls music and the garbage they watch on television like The Munsters, Gilligan’s Island, Peyton Place, Man from UNCLE and Batman. I blame all this on parents getting advice on how to raise their kids from that Dr. Spock, instead of beating some common sense into them with a leather belt the way my Pappy did. It won’t be long until the Communist can walk right in and take over because we will have a generation of worthless people running the country.”

“And your radio station is providing a great service to our nation by playing songs about getting drunk and cheating on your spouse? Then there are the big, new, trends in music on your station, patriotic songs, and truck driving songs. I’m waiting for you guys to start playing a song, probably by Dave Dudley, called ‘I’m Driving My Peterbilt to Saigon.’ While I’m think of it, is it you or some of the K-B-U-B salesmen going around town telling people that I sleep in a coffin? When I find out who it is, I’m going to ring their cowpoke neck and break all of their Ernest Tubb records!”

Two teenage girls walked up to the booth. “I’ll bet you fine, young ladies are just here for free stuff,” Cousin Clyde said to the girls. “You probably prefer to listen to the wholesome country music played on K-B-U-B.”

“What is K-B-U-B?” one girl asked with a confused look on her face.

“I’ve never heard of that radio station,” the other girl answered. “Is that a radio station here in Springville?”

“We listen to K-I-L-L, unless we are with our parents and then we are forced to listen to K-R-C-A,” the girl, who had asked what K-B-U-B was, explained before asking Mykel, “Is that man Lovable Lance?”

“Yes, I am!” Lance answered since he had heard the girl.

“Could you autograph my Killer Countdown list?” the girl asked.

“I would be happy to do that for you and I’ll autograph a photo of myself for you!” Lance answered, giving a smug look to Cousin Clyde. Two boys walked up to the booth and grabbed a Killer Countdown list, while ogling Sherry in the swimsuit. Zella gave them both a bottle of Pepsi. The two girls took their autographed Killer Countdowns and walked away.

“If you girls go to the K-B-U-B booth, you can get a photo of me with my slogan, ‘I love fishing and being an American’ on it and a nice K-B-U-B ash tray for your parents.” Cousin Clyde then tried to talk to the boys. “I bet you boys probably prefer to listen to K-B-U-B,” Cousin Clyde tried again to find a teenager that liked his radio station more than K-I-L-L.

“No. Your radio station doesn’t play the Rolling Stones,” the one boy answered.

“We also have been to your station’s booth, and you didn’t have a hot chick in a swimsuit, so we came over here,” the other boy joked before taking a drink of Pepsi. “Too bad we don’t have a camera, we would take a picture of you.” Sherry blushed and giggled.

Then the other boy asked Cousin Clyde, “Is K-B-U-B the radio station with the big, red, neon sign on that hill south of town?”

Cousin Clyde began to puff up with pride, “Yes indeed, son! That is our sign!”

“That is where most of the kids from my school go to make out,” he laughed before he deflated Cousin Clyde’s pride by bragging, “I popped a girl’s cherry under that sign last night.”

Mykel, Sherry, Zella, and Lance began to snicker and giggle, as Cousin Clyde began to turn red and boil with anger.

“Cool! Who was it?” the other boys asked his friend.

“You know Vanny Strueker in Algebra class? She is as loose as a goose,” the boy told his friend and everyone in earshot before walking away.

Cousin Clyde growled under his breath, “I hope those punks get sent to Vietnam next week.”

“Clyde, don’t you think it is time you took a hike?” Lovable Lance said. “I’ve got to go on live.”

Cousin Clyde stomped off through the crowd of people at the pavilion until his big cowboy hat could no longer be seen by those at the K-I-L-L. Everyone was laughing, except the little boy who was still crying, but not as loud. Apparently, Matt felt the things were still a little dicey at the remote, so he played a K-I-L-L jingle.

“Mykel, Sally, that is what it looks like when a man walks away with his tail between his leg,” Lovable Lance remarked with joy to the group at the booth.

“Sir, my name is Sherry.”

After the jingle, the record Matt played was ‘Everybody’s Gonna Be Happy’ by the Kinks. Lovable Lance began laughing at Matt’s choice of music. He then picked up receiver for the phone box and said, “Matt, you stinker! I’m sorry, we had another problem out here.” Matt stopped laughing and asked Lance what the other problem was, “We had an unwelcome visit from our competitor, Cousin Clyde. Some boys embarrassed him by telling him what goes on under K-B-U-B’s big neon sign on the weekends.” Matt laughed and said something. “Oh, you know about this? Oh yeah, you would know about that since you are Matt Midnight, who plays all of the make-out music on the radio…Okay, I’m ready.”

Lance put down the receiver and put on his headphones and picked up the microphone, right as Matt played the “out-and-about” jingle, and when it ended Lance went on.

“HEY HEY, LOVABLE LANCE FROM THE BIG THIRTEEN-HUNDRED – K-I-double-L AND I’M OUT AT THE SPRINGVILLE BOAT AND RECREATION SHOW WHERE WE ARE HAVING A GREAT TIME OUT HERE AT THE PAVILION AT THE FAIR GROUNDS! YOU CAN COME BY OUR BOOTH AND SIGN UP FOR A DRAWING FOR A ZEINITH COLOR TELEVISION FROM LEHR’S DEPARTMENT STORE. LEHR’S ALSO PROVIDED A SWIMSUIT, WHICH IS BEING MODELED BY A YOUNG LADY NAMED SHELLY…”

“My name is Sherry,” she frowned and grumbled to Mykel.

“WE HAVE THIS WEEK’S KILLER HIT COUNTDOWN, WHICH I WILL AUTOGRAPH FOR YOU. WE ALSO HAVE KEYCHAINS, BUMPER STICKERS, AND I’M TOLD WE WILL HAVE ANOTHER FREE ITEM VERY SOON. ALSO, WE HAVE FREE SNACKS SUCH AS PEPSI AND MOUNTAIN DEW, KITTY CLOVER POTATO CHIPS, AND SOON WE WILL HAVE SOME HOT BUTTERED POPCORN. SO COME BY AND SEE ME, LOVABLE LANCE POWERS, HERE AT THE SPRINGVILLE BOAT SHOW. HOW ABOUT WE PLAY A LITTLE SONNY AND CHER FOR YOU… ‘BABY DON’T GO’…ON THE BIG THIRTEEN-HUNDRED K-I-double-L!”

Mykel noticed that Zella was watching an exit with double doors off to the side of the where the booths were set up. She then said to him, “Mykel, Melinda is back at that door with a dolly with some boxes on it, would you go help her with it.”

Mykel went back to where Melinda was with the dolly, but first he held the door open so Mr. Ketner could bring the popcorn machine wagon through the double doors. Once it was inside, he wheeled the dolly, loaded with three boxes marked Amalgamated Promotions, to the booth.

“Well, we are here,” Melinda said to Zella, after thanking Mykel for helping her.

“Mr. Ketner has brought ‘ole smokey’ too,” Zella laughed.

“I think he and Matt got that problem fixed. They put a new motor in it. We have the proper oil to use in it,” Melinda explained. “Unlike Wally, who didn’t bring it with him to that remote at the grand opening of the car wash and called his wife to bring some cooking oil and instead she brought bacon grease, which clogged it up, cause the motor to smoke.”

Zella’s mouth dropped open, “Bacon grease? To make popcorn? I think that would make the popcorn taste horrible.”

“It caused it to burn a tad,” Melinda then lowered her voice. “That is also why Mr. K had Matt work on that. Mr. Ketner wouldn’t touch it until the bacon grease was cleaned out. I helped Matt on the cleaning of the oil bin, and it was disgusting.”

Mr. Ketner wheeled the Gold Medal Popcorn Machine in and set it up at the back of the booth. He then walked over to where Melinda and Zella were talking.

“Looks like there is a big crowd here,” Mr. Ketner observed the people walking by the booth and picking up the various tchotchkes that K-I-L-L was giving away. “We seem to be getting good foot traffic.”

“Well, Howard Lowery said that the attendance was poor and very few people were coming to our booth, so he got one of his bad headaches and had to go home,” Zella reported to Mr. Ketner and Melinda. “I was glad he went home! He was pacing back and forth, and dabbing sweat off that bald head of his with a hankey.”

Lance chimed in, “He said nobody was here and I ask him how come I had a hard time finding a parking place.”

“And Bud was only here a half an hour and went to talk to Browne County Beverage Packaging and Distributing never came back,” Zella griped. “They must have been giving free samples. Probably ashamed that he screwed up getting his friend’s daughter to model for us.”

“Looks like we have a fine-looking model,” Mr. Ketner commented on Sherry.

“Oh, I’m apologize for not introducing you all,” Zella said. “This is Mykel’s friend, Shirley.”

“I’m Sol Ketner, general manager of K-I-double-L, and this our office manager, Melinda Monroe. You just look like a movie star in that swimsuit, Shirley.”

“Actually, my name is Sherry…Sherry Ridenhour.”

“Nice to meet you,” Melinda said. “I’m glad you are here, or I would have had to wear that bathing suit.” Melinda looked down and saw the little boy under the table. She tapped Mr. Ketner’s arm and then pointed to the sobbing child under the table.

“We have a shaifeleh lying under the table,” Mr. Ketner observed. “Is he alright? Does he have parents?”

“Some young woman left him here,” Zella explained. “He was upset because we ran out of Kitty Clover Bar-B-Que Potato Chips and began crying, so she just ran off. He has cried and cried.”

“And then to make things worse, Cousin Clyde paid us a visit, with his insults and sermonizing,” Lovable Lance reported to Mr. Ketner. “Looks like Chuck Green would keep him on a short leash. He must not be here.”

“Now, Lance, why would Chuck Green come to a boat show,” Mr. Ketner laughed. “He has the biggest yacht at Lake Taneycomo. He probably has his sales manager here and he probably has no control over what Cousin Clyde does.” Mr. Ketner then began opening one of the boxes with a small pin knife. “Next break Lance, I want you to tell the listeners to come by the booth and get a ‘Little Killer’ doll.”

“A what?” Lance asked.

Mr. Ketner then pulled out of the box a pink-haired, troll doll adorned in a little, nightshirt that read “I Listen to K-I-L-L The Big 1300 kHz.” At that moment, on the radio monitor, a jingle with the call letters and frequency played, followed by “Good Lovin” by the Young Rascals.

“Oh, a Wish-nik doll!” Sherry said with delight. “How cute!”

“Actually, we can’t call them Wish-nik or Damn-its or Trolls because those names are trademarked,” Mr. Ketner explained. “These are cheepy promotional items made in Tokyo or Tijuana. That’s why I thought we would call them ‘Little Killers’ because the call letters are K-I-L-L, and we have the Killer Countdown, so why not call them Little Killers to get our name out to the community.”

Zella pulled one of the ‘Little Killer’ dolls from the box and handed it to Sherry, “Cindy…”

“My name is Sherry, Mame,” she said politely.

“I’m sorry…Sherry, see if the little boy would want one of these dolls to play with,” Remember, Mr. Ketner said we should call them ‘Little Killer’ dolls.”

“Yes, Mame, because Damnitt and Troll doll are trademarked names.”

Sherry eased around the front of the booth to where the little boy was still pounding the pavilion floor with fist. She leaned over and gave the boy her big sparkling smile.

“Hi, my name is Sherry. Would you like one of our Little Killer dolls? Watch what you can do with it? You smooth the hair down, like when you comb your hair, then you…” Sherry made silly face and a goofy noise to go with it, “Wer, wer wer!” She shook the ‘Little Killer” doll violently causing its blue, crepe hair to stand up. “Oh my, look what I did to his hair after I combed it!” The little boy smiled and laughed. “Would you like to try it?” She handed the ‘Little Killer’ doll to the boy, who tried the hair trick with the doll. His smile grew as he discovered that he could mess up the doll’s hair just like Sherry did.

Mr. Ketner walked over to where the little boy was, bent down to talk to him, “I bet a growing boy like you would like some hot, buttered popcorn!” The boy looked up, smiled, and nodded his head yes. “If you will come out from under the table, I will show you how this magic machine makes popcorn.”

The little boy crawled out from under the table and walked over to where Mr. Ketner was by the popcorn machine. Mr. Ketner showed him how he poured in the oil and popcorn. He then lifted the little boy up so he could watch the heating lamp pop the corn in the rotating kettle.

“Watch closely, popcorn will be coming out of that big pan under the bright light.”

The popcorn began popping and filling the glass chamber. The little boy smiled as he watched the white kernels dance behind the glass. Mr. Ketner put the little boy back down.

“Now, we let me get you a sack of this delicious treat to munch on,” Mr. Ketner hyped the popcorn up to the now calm child, who smiled in anticipation. He scooped it out into one of the skinny, white, bags and then went to add the salt from a tin shaker and butter from pumper on a jar of liquid butter. “We will give it a dash of salt and a pump of butter…”

“Two butters!” the little boy said with excitement.

“Fine. Two pumps of butter. More butter on popcorn is always good,” Mr. Ketner went right along with the boy’s wishes. Then, he handed him the boy the bag. “Zella, Melinda, Mykel, would one of you get this young man a cold drink?”

Zella said, “You know, I don’t think you got a drink earlier. What do you want, honey, Pepsi, or Mountain Dew?”

“The green one,” the boy answered pointing to the bottle. Zella opened the bottle and gave it to the boy.

Mr. Ketner grabbed a folding chair from a dolly and brought it over for the boy to sit in. “Here is a seat for you to see all the people and boats here until we find who you belong to.”

“Mr. Ketner! Mr. Ketner!” over the rumble of the crown and the Young Rascals came the tweety-voice of Lymon Brush.

“Lymon, you are here early. I thought you were going to help me after Zella and Melinda left, when we announce the winner of the television?”

“I came to scout out prospects and I have found us six new advertisers,” Lymon bubbled with excitement. Melinda and Zella congratulated him, and golf clapped for him. Mr. Ketner praised him. Then he said, “If you have some contracts with you, I’ll go get them to sign them today…”

“Lymon! Do you think I or Melinda brought contracts to a boat show?” Mr. Ketner asked him. “You can take them to the businesses Monday.”

The boy had settled in and was quiet, except for when the boy mimicked the sound of a trumpet, along with the Tijuana Brass’s “Lollipops and Roses.”

“You’re good at that,” Lovable Lance complemented the boy. “Herb Alpert should take you on the road with his band.” The little boy shot Lovable Lance a skunk eye, like he didn’t want Lance calling attention to his musical talent.

Sherry said to Mykel, “Don’t they use this song on that game show that is on at night?”

“Yeah, when they introduce the contestants,” Mykel said before launching into an impromptu routine. “Our first contestant is a beautiful blonde girl from Knob Noster, Missouri, she likes old movies, kissing and heavy petting…please welcome SHIRLEY Ridenhour!”

Sherry began laughing and swatted Mykel’s on the shoulder. “You are a very naughty boy!”

The monitor played another jingle before segueing into “Surfin Bird” by the Trashmen. The little boy jumped out of the chair and began a frenzied style of dancing.

As Mykel and Sherry continued handling out keychains, bumper stickers, sodas, popcorn, and Little Killer dolls, they noticed a young man, dressed casually, looking at the various booths and through the crowd very pensive look on his face. It was as if he was pretending to look at the displays but was hiding that was frantic to find something precious that was lost. He looked at the K-I-L-L booth and began smiling with relief.

“There you are, Sport!” the young man shouted as he approached the K-I-L-L booth. “I’ve been looking all over for you. I’ve looked through all of the boats and campers, even some tents. Are you ready to go home?”

“Look what I got! Look what I got!” the boy said to his father showing him the Little Killer doll.

“Hey, that’s nice!” the man said to the boy. He then asked Lovable Lance, “Has he been here long?”

“Probably around a half an hour,” Lance answered. “He got really upset because we were out of Bar-B-Que potato chips and your wife just left him here.”

“That wasn’t his mother. His mother died of an aneurysm when he was two years old,” the man explained further. “That is my co-worker’s sister. She fixed me up with her. After today, I’m not going see her anymore. If she can’t handle Sport, she doesn’t deserve me. As a matter of fact, she got mad when I said I needed to find him and went to sit in the car. She said she left him at a radio station’s booth. I asked two men at the K-R-C-A booth, and they said there wasn’t a little boy at their booth. A fat guy in a cowboy hat at the K-B-U-B booth told me to go see you because you cater to brats…and then he handed me this ashtray with his picture on it,” the man showed Lovable Lance the ashtray with the red, wood call-letters on the side with a cartoon drawing of Cousin Clyde with that slogan about being a fishing American.

Mr. Ketner stepped over to where Lance and the man was talking.

“I just want to say that you have a nice little boy here.”

“My name isn’t Sport. It’s Kevin. Daddy just calls me Sport.”

“We’re in the radio business, Sonny. We all go by another name,” Mr. Ketner chuckled. “While you are here, sign up for the color television we are giving away.”

“Looking at your shirt, Kevin, I’ll ask you, what is Batman’s real name?” Mykel asked the little boy.

“Millionaire Bruce Wayne,” Kevin confidently answered.

“You are correct,” Mykel said. He handed the boy a bumper sticker. “You win a bumper sticker.”

Kevin smiled and then put his hands, half covered with his sleeves, over his mouth and chin.

“Well thank you and I’m sorry you had to watch him while you worked,” the man said, then asked Mykel, “Could I have a bumper sticker too? We listen to your station at work.” Mykel said “sure,” handed him one, and the man and boy walked away.

“I can put this to good use,” Lovable Lance said. He pulled the L & M Short from his mouth and ground the cigarette out on the cartoon picture of Cousin Clyde, saying ‘I love fishing and being an American’ in the bottom of the ashtray.