Operas Recalled … the Sudsy Kind
What’s bothering me is this gnawing feeling that I’m not in the swim any more.
I’ve lost touch with the little folksy things in life.
For instance, it occurred to me that I haven’t even listened to a radio soap opera since Ma Perkins was a girl.
It occurred to me, as a matter of fact, while I was accidentally listening to a soap opera on my car radio the other day.
Just Plain Bill would murmur to his daughter Nancy things like:
"Nancy, honey, don’t you be upset because that promising young country prosecutor, Mark Shoreham,
Plain Bill Easy to Dig
But in those days I could tell by the way he said it that Plain Bill was damn well worried. He was just covering up for Nancy.
But my talent as a listener has diminished to the vanishing point. I realized that when I tuned in on soap opera the other day.
At any rate, the male lead had a deep, syrupy voice that had to be Don Ameche.
Things, she was telling him, better improve.
Is He Really Hiding Melinda?
"Don’t do me any favors," she said, in effect. "Don’t shout it from rooftops. Just tell Cara about us."
Melinda Struts Stuff in Kitchen
As if that situation weren’t bad enough, I got the impression through further snatches of dialogue that Don Ameche wasn’t really married to Cara. Of course, it was just an impression. I don’t know it for a fact.