Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Franklin/Betty Parker Funny Skit On New Year's Eve, Dec. 31, 2012, bfparker@frontiernet.net


Franklin/Betty Parker Funny Skit On New Year's Eve, Dec. 31, 2012,  bfparker@frontiernet.net

PEGGY:  Hello neighbors, hello friends, here we go.  I am PEGGY HAPPY, introducing you to a New Year's Eve funny skit, as 2012 gives way to 2013.  So  set aside your fears, lend me your ears.  I will set the scene.  We will try to keep the following dialogue clean. 


An old gray haired couple is what it’s about.   Love and marriage is something to shout.  62 years married and isn’t it sweet.  They must get ready for a Fletcher House New Year's Evening meet.

Betty is anxious that they be on time.  Frank’s in his skivvies (that's underwear), calm and sublime.  He is tinkering with a computer long in decline, readying a fun script about the coming New Year.  But dear oh dear.  Its getting late.   Betty is afraid they are going to be late.  She fusses and fumes.  She grouches and groans and makes many angry sounds.  ¶PWith that, my friends,  they begin their skit at last.  I step aside and let them blast.  Shhh,  shhh, what a mess.  A very loud argument is in "pro-gress."

BETTY:  Stop fiddling with that computer.  You're always tinkering, tinkering, never on time; you never listen, your mind is a million miles away.  Quit now.   Quit.  Get ready.  We have to be on time to give our Fletcher House New Year's Eve Skit.  We'll be late, late.   Hurry, hurry.  You are never on time.

FRANK: Just a minute, just a minute.  I think I can get this computer printer  going with the Conflict Catcher.  How do you put the Conflict Catcher on?  How does this darn thing work?

BETTY:  Dummy! The Conflict Catcher is in the upper right corner of the screen.  Click on it.  Hurry.  Get it over with.   Get ready to go, now!  Talk about conflict:  You’re always in conflict, going in the wrong direction, doing the wrong thing.  Now get ready.  We have to go.

FRANK:  I'm clicking, I'm clicking.  It's slow.  This darn computer is 14 years old.  We’ve kept it going all this time.

BETTY:  You and the computer are both slow all right.  Slow in the head.  You’re always doing the odd-ball thing.  You try to do two things at once.  You can’t burn your candle at both ends.

FRANK:  Hey, that’s rich—burn your candle at both ends.  It reminds me of a short, funny poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay:  It goes: “My candle burns at both ends; It will not last the night; But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends--It gives such lovely light!”  ¶Ha!  Don’t you love it?   Don’t you just love it?

BETTY:  [Exasperated}:  Ahhh!  GRRR!  Dummy!  I'm exasperated with you.  That’s just like you, bird brain—quoting poetry  when we are rushing  to get ready to give a New Year's Eve Skit.   It was an honor to be  asked to do it  by our wonderful Fletcher House friends.  Now, you get ready and I mean it or I’ll give you what for.  Hear me?  Get going.  Move!  Move!
 
FRANK:  O.K., Kiddo.  I hear your “Orders from Headquarters.”  I’m almost through fiddling with this computer printer.  You go ahead.  Put on your girdle so the fat doesn’t show.

BETTY:  Don’t you dare say that again, nitwit.  I’m not fat.  Some of my weight has shifted to my tummy.  What about your hair?  Got any?

FRANK:  Gone with the Wind!  Hey, I don’t want to fight.  New Year's Eve is a time to remember how sweet you were and are.  You know, Baby Doll, we came here to Uplands 18 years ago, bought this computer 14 years ago, did a lot of work with it and on it, together.

BETTY:  I know.  Move.  Get dressed.  No time for day dreaming. 

FRANK:  We wrote lots of articles, got lots of e-mails, did that whole revision of our 1971 George Peabody, A Biography,  book; remember,  the update for the 200th anniversary of George Peabody’s birth, 1795-1995.  Big job but we did it on this old computer.  You and me.  Olden times.  Memory lane.  Remember?

BETTY:  I’ve got my girdle on.  Stop day dreaming  Put on your good pants.  Make sure the zipper is up.  Don’t embarrass me more than you have to.  Act your age. ¶Yes, I remember the George Peabody revised book.  You drove me wacky with that and with hundreds of other projects.  Remember, you will be  92 in June 2013.  You can't jump around like you used to.

FRANK:  When I look back, I feel young.  I remember your hollering, blaming me, for every scratch on the furniture, every dent on the car, every spot on the carpet.  But best of all I remember you when we first met.   You were sweet 17.

BETTY:  Don’t bring that up,  there isn’t time.  But I do remember, I do.

FRANK:  Baby doll, we must have arrived on the same train that early September in 1946 for registration day at Berea College, near Lexington, KY,  you from Decatur, Ala; I from Asheville, NC.  I first saw you standing in the chow line.   You wore blue jeans, tight blue jeans.  I couldn’t take my eyes off you.  You looked round all over.

BETTY:  What do you mean “round all over”?  You always tell that story and people give it a sexual connotation.  Behave yourself.  The blue jeans happened to be too short and tight and I was only 17 and maybe still had some baby fat.  Don’t you dare tell that story again.

FRANK:  O.K., O.K., don't bite my head off.

BETTY: I saw you too that day in the food line.  You had your nose stuck in a book.  Everyone else was standing around, talking, getting acquainted, but you were as usual out of this world.  Just like now, not knowing whether you are coming or going, and never on time.

FRANK:.  Yeah, well…I remember we had some nice classes together.  Some teachers seated us alphabetically, Franklin Parker next to Betty June Parker.  Not related, same last name, that’s how we met; pure coincidence, and what an accident.

BETTY:  Don’t remind me.  You were never on time for class, never ready, always had to borrow pencil, pen, paper.  Always forgetful, then, since, and now.

FRANK:  Baby doll, something clicked; we got together, met oftener and oftener, walked a lot together.  I don’t remember who began holding hands first, you or me, or  who first stopped under the kissing tree near your dorm?  [she slaps at him].

BETTY:  I told you not to remind me.  You were always difficult, always mixed up.  I was embarrassed.  Some people thought we were related, cousins you know, and wondered why we were hand holding, thought maybe we were kissing cousins.  You were always a flirt, then, since; won't you ever behave?

FRANK:  I didn’t know Joline was your roommate when I first talked to her.  She didn’t know you and I had met.  I heard that she told you that she had met the nicest boy, me, and that you dismissed mention of me by blurting out to her: “That Old Man!”

BETTY:  Listen, odd-ball.  I worked in the Berea Labor Office, looked up your records, saw that you were 25, had been in the in Air Force four years, 1942-46.  I was 17 and didn’t want the world to know I was holding hands with an old man.  Eight years age difference then was a BIG difference.

FRANK:  Then what happened?  Why did we click?  How did we ever get married?

BETTY:  You, nut, persisted.  You wouldn’t give up.  You sent me daily love notes in my mail box, kept holding hands, kept going with me to prayer group and choir practice, sometimes handing me a nice flower you illegally picked when no one was looking.   And don't ever mention again that kissing tree near my girls' dormitory.

FRANK:  You’re always making me out to be worse than I was, worse than I am.   How come we've always liked each other so much?  How come we fell in love?

BETTY:  Love?  Huh!  Cheap scate!!!   I still remember the one-glass-5-cent-coca-cola you bought with two straws, no ice, and told me to sip, slowly, after you, to make it last.  Cheap skate.  I tried to break it off.  You kept coming back.   What was I to do?  [Sudden shift of mood].

FRANK:  [mock whimper. Boo hoo hoo.] You make me want to cry.

BETTY:  Don’t look so sad.  Don’t cry.  You weren’t so bad.  Matter of fact, you were a bit of a sweetie.  Don’t let it go to your head.  There’s room for improvement.

FRANK:  I remember how sweet you were, lovely, nice to be with, but always very proper.  I remember how shocked I was that day early in our going together--you told me flat out:  "Frank, if our being together isn’t going to lead anywhere, then good-bye."  I was shocked, shocked; scared, scared; having fun was one thing.  But this Betty girl meant business.

BETTY  (shouts) :  You bet I did.  And what did you do about it?

FRANK:  Before the day ended I crawled back.  I asked:  Where can I find a diamond engagement ring cheap, cheap?

BETTY:  Cheap skate!  And I asked:  Does that mean you are going to fall on your knees and ask for my hand in marriage?

FRANK:  I said, no; it means: let your folks eyeball me; my folks eyeball you.  If that doesn't throw them into a fit, we might make it.  You prepare your Daddy.  I’ll speak to him man to man.  If he has no objection and I can find an engagement ring at a Jewelry Store that is having a fire sale, I’ll buy it, and propose.  If you accept, we'll set the date—I’ll bite the bullet, even if it kills me.   I'll do it.  [sobs]   I'll give up my freedom.  Gone with the wind, just like my hair.

BETTY:  I think you also said: let’s shift gears.   Or was it: let’s get this plane off the ground?  Or was it: There goes my freedom.  Or was it: Having a wife means work and strife.

FRANK: Remember, before I got the engagement ring I surprised you by winning for you a nice ladies’ wrist watch.  Remember?

BETTY:  Yes, back then you were always trying to win something in stupid contests:  Send in the answer to the following question in 25 words or less and win a prize.

FRANK:  I remember, Baby Doll.  It was:  “Contaflex watches are good for rough country living because….”  In 25 words or less.

BETTY:  You sent in one entry in your name, one in my name and never told me about it.

FRANK:  My entry lost, your entry won.  Lucky you.  I thought giving you that win-win Contaflex watch might hold you until I could rub two nickles together and find a proper engagement ring at a Jewelry store fire sale.

BETTY:  Then you invited yourself to my parents’ home, which scared me to death.  My first beau, my only boy friend ever to want to be looked over as a possible suitor.  I knew it had to be done, yet I was so scared.

FRANK:  About your father: I did get a shock the day I spoke to him man to man.  The night before in a corner of the room where I slept was his shotgun.  I didn’t sleep a wink worrying why that shotgun was there.  I didn’t know he normally kept his squirrel hunting gun there.

BETTY:  My Dad was gracious.  He told you:  “Son, remember, come back to visit anytime.  When you marry we will remove Betty’s plate from the table; but don’t expect us to add your two places to our table permanently."

FRANK:   I got his drift right away.   He meant:  Get a job, make a living, build a love nest of your own.  Don't be a bum.

BETTY:   Ha!  You make me laugh.  But after the wedding my Dad and Mum took from their kitchen drawers every thing they didn’t need, gave it to us to help start our housekeeping.

FRANK:  We found our first teaching jobs through the Berea College Alumni Office.  The president of Ferrum Jr. College near Roanoke, VA, wanted to hire Berea graduates who wouldn't expect much pay.  We applied, were married June 12, 1950, and on our honeymoon went by train to be interviewed.

BETTY:  We spent the first four nights in hotels.  When we reached Ferrum, VA, we reported to President Nathaniel H. Davis.  He took us to Nurse Bulifont, an old fashioned strait-laced nurse who put us in separate rooms in the student infirmary, separate rooms, mind you.   What a honeymoon:  four nights in hotels, fifth night in separate rooms in a college hospital infirmary.

FRANK:  That night alone in bed I heard a soft knock on the door. Was it nurse Bulifont?  No.  Was it Pres. Nathaniel H. Davis?  No.  It was YOU, asking timidly, "May I come in?  I’m scared.  May I stay with you tonight and slip back to my own room early tomorrow?"  I said: "Ya, Ya” What fun.  Yippitty do dah, Yippitti day. 

BETTY:  Remember 40 years later on your last teaching job at Western Carolina University, Cullowhee, N.C. just before we came to Uplands?  We walked a lot on campus holding hands, past the dining room and the Tower, a student hangout.  Remember several times some girl students came up to us, said they enjoyed seeing us often walking hand in hand on campus.  Made us feel good.
 
FRANK:  We’ve walked a lot holding hands here at Uplands, often past the Village Market arm in arm, in all kinds of weather.  Remember that bearded salty old timer who, seated in his pickup truck, must have seen us often,.  He put his head out the window and asked you good naturedly, "Hey, there.  Is he holding you up or are you holding him up?"  We laughed.  You, Betty, replied, "We’re holding each other up!"  He and we all laughed as we went on our way.

BETTY:  Well, Baby Doll, all in all you are not so bad.  In fact, you’re pretty good.  Thanks for the memories.  Hurry now and get ready for our New Year's Night skit.

FRANK:  You’re wonderful, Babs.  Rigid, set in your ways, but still a baby doll.  

BETTY:  Just say:  I’m a fairly happily married woman.

FRANK:  You’re a happily married old maid—Woops!  I made a mistake.  I meant to say, "You are a happily married darling.” 

BETTY:  There you go again: a compliment followed by a put-down!  You’ll never learn.

FRANK:  (softly, lovingly).  I know, I know;  I love you and you love me.  Let’s hug and dance and get ready to go.  After a quick hug and a little whirl around the room.  [They stand, hug, do a little jig, kiss, while …]

PEGGY HAPPY:  [at mike says loudly]:   Almost the end of skit.  End of Betty and Franklin Parker’s “A trip Down Memory Lane.”   But next, the Parkers will parody the song, “Love and Marriage."  If you recall the words sing along with them.

Singing]:
FRANK:  Love and marriage.   Go together like a horse and carriage.  This I tell you brother.  You can't have one without the other.

BETTY:  Love and marriage, love and marriage.  It's an institute you can't disparage. Dad was told by Mother.  You can't have one, without the other.

 PEGGY HAPPY:  The Parkers last fling is their parody of "Do You Love Me?"  From Fiddler On the Roof.  [Loud, clear, rapid fire, sing song tune].

FRANK:  It's a new world, Betty June.  A new world.  Young people are falling in love.  I ask you, Betty, Do you love me?

BETTY:  Do I what?     FRANK:  Do you love me?

BETTY:  Do I love you?    With young people getting married.  And there’s trouble in the town.   You're upset, you're worn out.  Go inside, go lie down!  Maybe it's indigestion

FRANK:  "Betty,  I'm asking you a question..."  Do you love me?
BETTY:  You're a fool.    FRANK:  "I know..." But do you love me?

BETTY:  Do I love you?  For 62 years I've washed your clothes,  Cooked your meals, cleaned your house, Given you joy, milked the cow.  After 62 years, why talk about love right now?

FRANK:  Betty, The first time we met at Berea College I liked you, but I was scared.

BETTY:  I was shy.  FRANK:  I was nervous.  BETTY:  So was I.

FRANK:   But our hearts said we'd learn to love each other.   And now I'm asking you, Betty,  Do you love me?    BETTY:  I'm your wife!   FRANK:  "I know..."  But do you love me?

BETTY:  Do I love him?   For 62 years I've lived with him, Fought with him, starved with him.  For 62 years my bed was his.  If that's not love, what is?

FRANK:  Then you do, you do, love me?    BETTY:  I suppose I do.

FRANK:  And I suppose I love you too!

[Both sing together] :   It doesn't change a thing .  But even so    After 62 years --  Love, It's so nice to know.     [they shake hands, whirl around, kiss]  The End.

PEGGY HAPPY:  Love goes on, bridging the years,  2012 to 2013, as do Friendship, Forgiveness, and Peace.   Our skit has ended.   But life and happiness  especially H O P E endures forever.   AND NOW, back to our Master of Ceremony.    END. 

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Franklin/Betty Parker Funny Skit On New Year's Eve, Dec. 31, 2012, bfparker@frontiernet.net


Franklin/Betty Parker Funny Skit On New Year's Eve, Dec. 31, 2012,  bfparker@frontiernet.net

PEGGY:  Hello neighbors, hello friends, here we go.  I am PEGGY HAPPY, introducing you to a New Year's Eve funny skit, as 2012 gives way to 2013.  So  set aside your fears, lend me your ears.  I will set the scene.  We will try to keep the following dialogue clean. 


An old gray haired couple is what it’s about.   Love and marriage is something to shout.  62 years married and isn’t it sweet.  They must get ready for a Fletcher House New Year's Evening meet.

Betty is anxious that they be on time.  Frank’s in his skivvies (that's underwear), calm and sublime.  He is tinkering with a computer long in decline, readying a fun script about the coming New Year.  But dear oh dear.  Its getting late.   Betty is afraid they are going to be late.  She fusses and fumes.  She grouches and groans and makes many angry sounds.  ¶PWith that, my friends,  they begin their skit at last.  I step aside and let them blast.  Shhh,  shhh, what a mess.  A very loud argument is in "pro-gress."

BETTY:  Stop fiddling with that computer.  You're always tinkering, tinkering, never on time; you never listen, your mind is a million miles away.  Quit now.   Quit.  Get ready.  We have to be on time to give our Fletcher House  New Year's Eve Skit.  We'll be late, late.   Hurry, hurry.  You are never on time.

FRANK: Just a minute, just a minute.  I think I can get this computer printer  going with the Conflict Catcher.  How do you put the Conflict Catcher on?  How does this darn thing work?

BETTY:  Dummy! The Conflict Catcher is in the upper right corner of the screen.  Click on it.  Hurry.  Get it over with.   Get ready to go, now!  Talk about conflict:  You’re always in conflict, going in the wrong direction, doing the wrong thing.  Now get ready.  We have to go.

FRANK:  I'm clicking, I'm clicking.  It's slow.  This darn computer is 14 years old.  We’ve kept it going all this time.

BETTY:  You and the computer are both slow all right.  Slow in the head.  You’re always doing the odd-ball thing.  You try to do two things at once.  You can’t burn your candle at both ends.

FRANK:  Hey, that’s rich—burn your candle at both ends.  It reminds me of a short, funny poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay:  It goes: “My candle burns at both ends; It will not last the night; But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends--It gives such lovely light!”  ¶Ha!  Don’t you love it?   Don’t you just love it?

BETTY:  [Exasperated}:  Ahhh!  GRRR!  Dummy!  I'm exasperated with you.  That’s just like you, bird brain—quoting poetry  when we are rushing  to get ready to give a New Year's Eve Skit.   It was an honor to be  asked to do it  by our wonderful Fletcher House friends.  Now, you get ready and I mean it or I’ll give you what for.  Hear me?  Get going.  Move!  Move!
 
FRANK:  O.K., Kiddo.  I hear your “Orders from Headquarters.”  I’m almost through fiddling with this computer printer.  You go ahead.  Put on your girdle so the fat doesn’t show.

BETTY:  Don’t you dare say that again, nitwit.  I’m not fat.  Some of my weight has shifted to my tummy.  What about your hair?  Got any?

FRANK:  Gone with the Wind!  Hey, I don’t want to fight.  New Year's Eve is a time to remember how sweet you were and are.  You know, Baby Doll, we came here to Uplands 18 years ago, bought this computer 14 years ago, did a lot of work with it and on it, together.

BETTY:  I know.  Move.  Get dressed.  No time for day dreaming. 

FRANK:  We wrote lots of articles, got lots of e-mails, did that whole revision of our 1971 George Peabody, A Biography,  book; remember,  the update for the 200th anniversary of George Peabody’s birth, 1795-1995.  Big job but we did it on this old computer.  You and me.  Olden times.  Memory lane.  Remember?

BETTY:  I’ve got my girdle on.  Stop day dreaming  Put on your good pants.  Make sure the zipper is up.  Don’t embarrass me more than you have to.  Act your age. ¶Yes, I remember the George Peabody revised book.  You drove me wacky with that and with hundreds of other projects.  Remember, you will be  92 in June 2013.  You can't jump around like you used to.

FRANK:  When I look back, I feel young.  I remember your hollering, blaming me, for every scratch on the furniture, every dent on the car, every spot on the carpet.  But best of all I remember you when we first met.   You were sweet 17.

BETTY:  Don’t bring that up,  there isn’t time.  But I do remember, I do.

FRANK:  Baby doll, we must have arrived on the same train that early September in 1946 for registration day at Berea College, near Lexington, KY,  you from Decatur, Ala; I from Asheville, NC.  I first saw you standing in the chow line.   You wore blue jeans, tight blue jeans.  I couldn’t take my eyes off you.  You looked round all over.

BETTY:  What do you mean “round all over”?  You always tell that story and people give it a sexual connotation.  Behave yourself.  The blue jeans happened to be too short and tight and I was only 17 and maybe still had some baby fat.  Don’t you dare tell that story again.

FRANK:  O.K., O.K., don't bite my head off.

BETTY: I saw you too that day in the food line.  You had your nose stuck in a book.  Everyone else was standing around, talking, getting acquainted, but you were as usual out of this world.  Just like now, not knowing whether you are coming or going, and never on time.

FRANK:.  Yeah, well…I remember we had some nice classes together.  Some teachers seated us alphabetically, Franklin Parker next to Betty June Parker.  Not related, same last name, that’s how we met; pure coincidence, and what an accident.

BETTY:  Don’t remind me.  You were never on time for class, never ready, always had to borrow pencil, pen, paper.  Always forgetful, then, since, and now.

FRANK:  Baby doll, something clicked; we got together, met oftener and oftener, walked a lot together.  I don’t remember who began holding hands first, you or me, or  who first stopped under the kissing tree near your dorm?  [she slaps at him].

BETTY:  I told you not to remind me.  You were always difficult, always mixed up.  I was embarrassed.  Some people thought we were related, cousins you know, and wondered why we were hand holding, thought maybe we were kissing cousins.  You were always a flirt, then, since; won't you ever behave?

FRANK:  I didn’t know Joline was your roommate when I first talked to her.  She didn’t know you and I had met.  I heard that she told you that she had met the nicest boy, me, and that you dismissed mention of me by blurting out to her: “That Old Man!”

BETTY:  Listen, odd-ball.  I worked in the Berea Labor Office, looked up your records, saw that you were 25, had been in the in Air Force four years, 1942-46.  I was 17 and didn’t want the world to know I was holding hands with an old man.  Eight years age difference then was a BIG difference.

FRANK:  Then what happened?  Why did we click?  How did we ever get married?

BETTY:  You, nut, persisted.  You wouldn’t give up.  You sent me daily love notes in my mail box, kept holding hands, kept going with me to prayer group and choir practice, sometimes handing me a nice flower you illegally picked when no one was looking.   And don't ever mention again that kissing tree near my girls' dormitory.

FRANK:  You’re always making me out to be worse than I was, worse than I am.   How come we've always liked each other so much?  How come we fell in love?

BETTY:  Love?  Huh!  Cheap scate!!!   I still remember the one-glass-5-cent-coca-cola you bought with two straws, no ice, and told me to sip, slowly, after you, to make it last.  Cheap skate.  I tried to break it off.  You kept coming back.   What was I to do?  [Sudden shift of mood].

FRANK:  [mock whimper. Boo hoo hoo.] You make me want to cry.

BETTY:  Don’t look so sad.  Don’t cry.  You weren’t so bad.  Matter of fact, you were a bit of a sweetie.  Don’t let it go to your head.  There’s room for improvement.

FRANK:  I remember how sweet you were, lovely, nice to be with, but always very proper.  I remember how shocked I was that day early in our going together--you told me flat out:  "Frank, if our being together isn’t going to lead anywhere, then good-bye."  I was shocked, shocked; scared, scared; having fun was one thing.  But this Betty girl meant business.

BETTY  (shouts) :  You bet I did.  And what did you do about it?

FRANK:  Before the day ended I crawled back.  I asked:  Where can I find a diamond engagement ring cheap, cheap?

BETTY:  Cheap skate!  And I asked:  Does that mean you are going to fall on your knees and ask for my hand in marriage?

FRANK:  I said, no; it means: let your folks eyeball me; my folks eyeball you.  If that doesn't throw them into a fit, we might make it.  You prepare your Daddy.  I’ll speak to him man to man.  If he has no objection and I can find an engagement ring at a Jewelry Store that is having a fire sale, I’ll buy it, and propose.  If you accept, we'll set the date—I’ll bite the bullet, even if it kills me.   I'll do it.  [sobs]   I'll give up my freedom.  Gone with the wind, just like my hair.

BETTY:  I think you also said: let’s shift gears.   Or was it: let’s get this plane off the ground?  Or was it: There goes my freedom.  Or was it: Having a wife means work and strife.

FRANK: Remember, before I got the engagement ring I surprised you by winning for you a nice ladies’ wrist watch.  Remember?

BETTY:  Yes, back then you were always trying to win something in stupid contests:  Send in the answer to the following question in 25 words or less and win a prize.

FRANK:  I remember, Baby Doll.  It was:  “Contaflex watches are good for rough country living because….”  In 25 words or less.

BETTY:  You sent in one entry in your name, one in my name and never told me about it.

FRANK:  My entry lost, your entry won.  Lucky you.  I thought giving you that win-win Contaflex watch might hold you until I could rub two nickles together and find a proper engagement ring at a Jewelry store fire sale.

BETTY:  Then you invited yourself to my parents’ home, which scared me to death.  My first beau, my only boy friend ever to want to be looked over as a possible suitor.  I knew it had to be done, yet I was so scared.

FRANK:  About your father: I did get a shock the day I spoke to him man to man.  The night before in a corner of the room where I slept was his shotgun.  I didn’t sleep a wink worrying why that shotgun was there.  I didn’t know he normally kept his squirrel hunting gun there.

BETTY:  My Dad was gracious.  He told you:  “Son, remember, come back to visit anytime.  When you marry we will remove Betty’s plate from the table; but don’t expect us to add your two places to our table permanently."

FRANK:   I got his drift right away.   He meant:  Get a job, make a living, build a love nest of your own.  Don't be a bum.

BETTY:   Ha!  You make me laugh.  But after the wedding my Dad and Mum took from their kitchen drawers every thing they didn’t need, gave it to us to help start our housekeeping.

FRANK:  We found our first teaching jobs through the Berea College Alumni Office.  The president of Ferrum Jr. College near Roanoke, VA, wanted to hire Berea graduates who wouldn't expect much pay.  We applied, were married June 12, 1950, and on our honeymoon went by train to be interviewed.

BETTY:  We spent the first four nights in hotels.  When we reached Ferrum, VA, we reported to President Nathaniel H. Davis.  He took us to Nurse Bulifont, an old fashioned strait-laced nurse who put us in separate rooms in the student infirmary, separate rooms, mind you.   What a honeymoon:  four nights in hotels, fifth night in separate rooms in a college hospital infirmary.

FRANK:  That night alone in bed I heard a soft knock on the door. Was it nurse Bulifont?  No.  Was it Pres. Nathaniel H. Davis?  No.  It was YOU, asking timidly, "May I come in?  I’m scared.  May I stay with you tonight and slip back to my own room early tomorrow?"  I said: "Ya, Ya” What fun.  Yippitty do dah, Yippitti day. 

BETTY:  Remember 40 years later on your last teaching job at Western Carolina University, Cullowhee, N.C. just before we came to Uplands?  We walked a lot on campus holding hands, past the dining room and the Tower, a student hangout.  Remember several times some girl students came up to us, said they enjoyed seeing us often walking hand in hand on campus.  Made us feel good.
 
FRANK:  We’ve walked a lot holding hands here at Uplands, often past the Village Market arm in arm, in all kinds of weather.  Remember that bearded salty old timer who, seated in his pickup truck, must have seen us often,.  He put his head out the window and asked you good naturedly, "Hey, there.  Is he holding you up or are you holding him up?"  We laughed.  You, Betty, replied, "We’re holding each other up!"  He and we all laughed as we went on our way.

BETTY:  Well, Baby Doll, all in all you are not so bad.  In fact, you’re pretty good.  Thanks for the memories.  Hurry now and get ready for our New Year's Night skit.

FRANK:  You’re wonderful, Babs.  Rigid, set in your ways, but still a baby doll.  

BETTY:  Just say:  I’m a fairly happily married woman.

FRANK:  You’re a happily married old maid—Woops!  I made a mistake.  I meant to say, "You are a happily married darling.” 

BETTY:  There you go again: a compliment followed by a put-down!  You’ll never learn.

FRANK:  (softly, lovingly).  I know, I know;  I love you and you love me.  Let’s hug and dance and get ready to go.  After a quick hug and a little whirl around the room.  [They stand, hug, do a little jig, kiss, while …]

PEGGY HAPPY:  [at mike says loudly]:   Almost the end of skit.  End of Betty and Franklin Parker’s “A trip Down Memory Lane.”   But next, the Parkers will parody the song, “Love and Marriage."  If you recall the words sing along with them.

Singing]:
FRANK:  Love and marriage.   Go together like a horse and carriage.  This I tell you brother.  You can't have one without the other.

BETTY:  Love and marriage, love and marriage.  It's an institute you can't disparage. Dad was told by Mother.  You can't have one, without the other.

 PEGGY HAPPY:  The Parkers last fling is their parody of "Do You Love Me?"  From Fiddler On the Roof.  [Loud, clear, rapid fire, sing song tune].

FRANK:  It's a new world, Betty June.  A new world.  Young people are falling in love.  I ask you, Betty, Do you love me?

BETTY:  Do I what?     FRANK:  Do you love me?

BETTY:  Do I love you?    With young people getting married.  And there’s trouble in the town.   You're upset, you're worn out.  Go inside, go lie down!  Maybe it's indigestion

FRANK:  "Betty,  I'm asking you a question..."  Do you love me?
BETTY:  You're a fool.    FRANK:  "I know..." But do you love me?

BETTY:  Do I love you?  For 62 years I've washed your clothes,  Cooked your meals, cleaned your house, Given you joy, milked the cow.  After 62 years, why talk about love right now?

FRANK:  Betty, The first time we met at Berea College I liked you, but I was scared.

BETTY:  I was shy.  FRANK:  I was nervous.  BETTY:  So was I.

FRANK:   But our hearts said we'd learn to love each other.   And now I'm asking you, Betty,  Do you love me?    BETTY:  I'm your wife!   FRANK:  "I know..."  But do you love me?

BETTY:  Do I love him?   For 62 years I've lived with him, Fought with him, starved with him.  For 62 years my bed was his.  If that's not love, what is?

FRANK:  Then you do, you do, love me?    BETTY:  I suppose I do.

FRANK:  And I suppose I love you too!

[Both sing together] :   It doesn't change a thing .  But even so    After 62 years --  Love, It's so nice to know.     [they shake hands, whirl around, kiss]  The End.

PEGGY HAPPY:  Love goes on, bridging the years,  2012 to 2013, as do Friendship, Forgiveness, and Peace.   Our skit has ended.   But life and happiness  especially H O P E endures forever.   AND NOW, back to our Master of Ceremony.    END.