A Glimpse of the Future...

[THRH79B@prodigy.com (MS KELLY D GILES I)]

In honor of the upcoming US dates, I'm reposting a little skit that 
is apparently the single most popular thing I've ever written for the 
Digest!  A sort of Ledbetter's Greatest Hit I suppose, although I 
prefer to call it "Geriatrics on a Hot Tin Roof" or just "A Glimpse 
of the Future".

*spacy sci-fi music, sparkly lights*

The scene: day room, Acton County Deluxe Retirement Community
The year: 2026

*Camera fades in, and we see our heroes sitting around a card table.  
Check the year mates, they're in their 80's. Use your imagination.*

JOHN: Are you going to deal or aren't you?
PETE: What?
J: I SAID, deal!
P: What?!
ROGER: I'll bet 'e turned 'is 'earing aid down again.
J: Good lord, we'll be 'ere all day.
R <whacking P with his cane>: TURN YER 'EARING AID UP!
P <adjusting hearing aid>: Terribly sorry...my turn to deal, was it?
J: It's about bloody time.
P <dealing>: So...how 'ave your kids been?
R: Don't rightly know.  'Ow long 'as it been since they visited me?
J: I seem to remember seeing Willow at Christmas...
R: Yeah, Christmas, yeah.  You know, I never expected 'aving four 
children would be easy, but I never thought they'd stick me in an 
'ome and forget about me!
P: Hah!  You think you've got it so hard!  Emma STILL won't let me 
mention her in interviews!
J: Oh come off it Pete, it's been thirty years!
P: You think I don't know how long it's been?  Thirty years I've had 
to remind myself not to whip out pictures of the grandkids whenever 
that nice young girl from Rolling Stone comes by.
R <under his breath>: Lucky for 'er...
P: Speaking of my grandkids, want to see the photo they sent me on 
Father's Day?
J: Ah, maybe some other time, Pete.  But right now, there's something 
Roger and I have been meaning to ask you.
R: Yes, well, we talked about this after bingo last night, and well...

J: We were wondering if...
R: You might be interested in...
J&R <in unison>: Getting back on the road?
P: Excuse me, I think my hearing aid slipped again.  I was certain 
you'd suggested that we begin touring again.
R: It's not your 'earing aid, man.  We mean it!
J: We're sick of shuffleboard!
R: We're sick of listening to Mrs. McGregor prattle on about her 
knitting!
P: Come now lads, aren't we getting a bit old for the whole rock and 
roll bit?  Look at us!  John, your dentures are falling out!  Roger, 
that wig isn't fooling anyone!
J: We may be past our prime, but that doesn't mean we can't still 
rock!
R: We aren't even in wheelchairs yet!  We can't give up!
P: But the press slaughtered us last time we went out on the road!
R: Oh, don't be a ninny.
J: What does the press matter?  We were still packing 'em in!
P: Surely I wasn't the only one who just felt silly!  Especially when 
they started throwing those orthopedic shoes!
R: Oh you're just jealous because the young birds barely even noticed 
you!
P: Hey now!
R: Not that you'd even know what to do wif one if you 'ad 'er!
P: Look here Rog, just because a couple of 45 year old secretaries 
threw their brassieres at you doesn't mean I don't still 'ave it!
J: Let's not start this again...
R: Yeah, let's not. I'd hate to break my last cane over your 'ead.
P: I'd like to see you do that after I belt you one with my walker!
R: You can barely even belt your trousers, much less me!
<Enter Nurse Ledbetter>
NURSE LEDBETTER: Gentlemen!  We aren't fighting again, ARE we?
J,P,R <in unison>: No, Nurse Ledbetter!
NL: Good!  I'd hate to have to force you to read ANOTHER ONE OF MY 
STORIES!
P: No!  Anything but that!
J: God save us all!
R: We'll be good, we promise!
NL: That's what I like to hear.  Of course, there is still the matter 
of my story...well, maybe I'll just post it to the mailing list.

And so she did!


- -Yellow "Big Nurse" Ledbetter