Old Lang Zine by Susan Scott Jan. 2004
"Testing..." The reporter spoke into a microphone she grasped in one
mittened hand, the other pressing against an earmuff, which covered a headset.
She wrapped the long ends of a knit scarf over her head, tucking back wisps of
red hair that blew across her face, and said to a burly man setting up a video screen,
"Clem, I said to Joe Henry ‘You might be my boss , but that don’t mean you
ain’t a liar.’
Plum job my foot! It’s creepy here and blasted cold. I got on every stitch of clothes
I own,
but my nose done turned blue half an hour ago. Why couldn’t I have gone to some
glamorous
party, where I could wear my old prom dress and get a manicure? Instead, I got to stand
here,
all bundled up and looking lumpy as Ma’s mashed potatoes."
A light flooded the area, making her squint at its source. Clem gave her the
"go ahead" sign,
and she smiled brightly on cue, "Hi to all y’all out there! Happy New Year! This
here’s Tammi
Dupree, from WKTY, Curlew, Kentucky’s number one station. I’m
standing…," Tammi gazed
around then shrugged, "Well, somewhere… waiting for Father Time to come and hand
over the
torch to Baby New Year."
"Tonight wee have a live report from my no-good cousin Willis Wilson on
the celebration in
Times Square. He’s going to personally meet Dick Clark! Dingo Jones is on stand-by in
Australia and
is reporting on the going’s-ons there. Folks, you come to the right place for loads
of fun and excitement tonight!"
Tammi checked her watch and looked at the camera again, "Midnight
is still ten minutes off yet, so why don’t
we head on over to New York and find out what’s happening there?"
"Hey Tammi, Willis here!" A giant nose and mouth with crooked
yellow teeth appeared on the screen behind her, the nose squashed as though pressed
against glass. "I ain’t never seen so many people in my life! Iffen you took
everyone in Toad Hollow and multiplied them by six, it still wouldn’t be as many
people as are down there in Times Square. Not even if you multiplied them by ten!"
"Listen Willis, you got to step back from the camera," Tammi
put a hand on her hip and scowled. "How many times have I told you to keep an
arm’s distance away? Now clean them nose smudges off and go on."
"Sorry." The screen went dark as a monstrous tongue licked the
lens, then a hand swiped it several times. A blonde man
in a flannel shirt and torn jeans waved, then walked over to a window, "All I can see
looking down is a bunch of heads.
Cain't even see the streets, ‘cept where the cops got their cars parked."
Willis faced the camera again, wiping his nose on his sleeve, "I
don’t know what this here building’s called but it’s got more floors than I
got fingers and toes! We have a real clear view of the ball. It’s all covered with
lots of light bulbs, and near blinds me iffen I stare at it too long." He motioned
the camera to follow him and went to a control panel set up between the room’s two
windows, "When Mr. Dick Clark comes, he’s gonna push this here big red button
and start the ball going down, when it stops it’ll be midnight on the dot! Don’t
ask me how they know what time to hit the button exactly though, I reckon it takes long
division to figure that out."
On the video screen, the room suddenly shook as if in an earthquake,
then focused on buffet tables. Willis’ voice boomed through the camera’s
microphone, "Tammi, you should see all the food they got set out! I swear I
ain’t ate as much in my whole life as they got sitting on tables around here! At
first I reckoned someone up and died, specially since most people here are all gussied up
in black. Maybe I shoulda worn the jeans without the holes, huh? Least I washed the shirt
afore I came up."
Tammi tore the earmuffs and headset off, "Willis! Step away from the
mike, for cripe’s sake! You want me to go deaf?"
"Sorry." His voice continued at a normal volume, "I
tried some stuff a lady said was ‘caviar,’ but it weren’t nothing but fish
eggs. Shoot, I done been eating that since I was a kid. Give me roasted ‘possum and a
mess of fried okra, that’s good eatin! It don’t do to make a pig of yourself
over the okra though, or you won’t be fit company for a good while. I remember once,
I liked to gas myself to death," Willis stepped in front of the camera, made a face
and fanned the air, "Whew! Talk ‘bout a smell! It was enough to gag a
maggot."
"They have a bar set up here with more kinds of alcohol than I
ever knew there was, and we can drink as much as we want for free. What’cha think of
that?"
Tammi frowned, shook her finger and warned," Willis, don’t
you be touching any of that likker now! I told Joe you’d come through with a real
good report, you’d best not let me down, if you value your worthless hide! Got
that?"
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Sheesh, I tole you I was gonna behave,
didn’t I?" He turned towards a commotion off-screen, "Oh! Here comes Dick
Clark! Hoo boy, my first real live celebrity up close!"
He disappeared, after a long pause his nose and mouth filled the screen
again, "Tammi, can you hear me? I got to whisper, but you ain’t gonna believe
this! You know how everyone cain't get over how Dick Clark never ages? Well, I done found
out the secret! He’s a puppet! It’s true… He sure looks real, but he
ain’t. He’s kinda stuffed like a scarecrow. They done wheeled him in on a hand
truck and propped him up near a window so people on the street can see."
Willis’ face disappeared, and the screen filled with the image of
a life-sized Dick Clark doll. A man skulked behind it, maneuvering the hand to make it
wave. Willis reappeared, "That’s all from New York for now! I don’t know
about these city folk, getting’ all in a sweat over what someone tole me was
‘pate.’ It looks like already-chewed food, the same as what we had to feed
Gramps after he lost the last tooth in his head and afore he made up them dentures outta
gravel…"
"THANK YOU Willis. Our audience ain’t interested in Gramps,
I’m sure." Tammi cut him off, then looked around, "No sign of any action
here yet, so let’s hear what our Australian correspondent has to report. Dingo, you
there?"
A picture of the Australian continent came up on the screen, with an
arrow pointing to a spot in the middle.
"Oy mates! And a happy new year from down under! Dingo Jones here in the
wild Aussie outback. It’s the first of the year already, but we’ll play as if it
weren’t. Right-o, not much life about… Hold on! Here come a couple roos.
Let’s see if the blokes will give a comment or two about their plans for the New
Year."
"Hey, you lot made any New Year’s resolu… wait a
mo’, just wanted a word…"
"Sorry cobber, they’re hopping off at top speed. Guess
I’ll go walkabout and check the action at the billabong. That puts me in mind of a
song. ‘Once a jolly swagman camped by a billabong, under the shade of a
coolibah-tree...’ Da da Matilda, hmm hmmm Matilda, who’ll come a-waltzing da dum
dum with me… Back to you Tammi! "
"Er, thanks for that great report Dingo! The minute hand on my
watch is getting near to that big twelve, so I expect to see Father Time coming along any
second now. Hold up y’all! I think I see… Over there, Clem!" The camera
panned on an old man with his pants pulled up to his armpits, hobbling towards Tammi.
"This could be him! Father Time come for the meeting and the passing of the
torch!"
The man said something in a hoarse voice and she leaned down to hear,
"No, I don’t know where no bathrooms are. Get outta here you old geezer!"
"Ahem, sorry folks, false alarm. Let’s drop back in on Times
Square for a minute… Willis, how are things shaping up over yonder?
Willis…hello?"
The silhouette of a male in the window filled the video screen, and the
crowd outside could be heard chanting, "Take it off! Take it off!"
"Oh Lordy! " Tammi slapped her forehead then shouted,
"Willis, I done tole you not to touch the whiskey till after the ball dropped.
WILLIS! Put your clothes back on and get outta the window! You’re fired, you durn
chowder head, you hear me?"
"Dang blasted idiot," she muttered, then looked to her right and gave a start.
"Oh! Here comes the man of the hour! This better be him, I cain't take much more
waiting. Geeze, it must have been one tough year, he looks right beat up."
A weary-faced frail man, in a belted tunic and barefoot, limped into
view. He stepped on his trailing beard and stumbled, but managed to right himself and move
on.
Tammi walked over to meet him, "Now Mr. Time, there ain’t no reason
to be looking like the hermit of the hills! I know a lady who works down at
Vernetta’s Beauty Grotto, and she’d do a right nice job on those toenails.
I’m sure she could take care of that ear and nose hair too, and give you a real
good-looking style with what’s left on your head. Just ask for Trisha, and if you say
Tammi sent ya, she’ll knock a dollar off."
Tammi turned, pointed and cooed, "Awww, here’s Baby New Year.
What a little angel! He’s a crawlin along fast as you please. I sure hope whoever put
that diaper on fastened the pin tight. My nephew, Duke, done got stuck with a diaper pin
and developed the septic shock and near died. He turned all black and green and stunk to
high heavens! His momma, my sister-in-law, ain’t worth two cents when it comes to
taking care of her seven little ones. Hits the bottle a bit too often, if you want my
opinion. I hope you’re listening LaVerne Lucille Dooley Dupree! Right ashamed,
that’s what you should be, you five-hundred pound hussy! Letting my brother Charlie
go to work in dirty overalls. So what if he is a pig slopper? They got to have some pride
too!"
"Oh shoot, here I got to running off at the mouth and missed the
passin over of the flame. Father Time has gone off somewhere and the Baby New Year is
crawlin away with the torch in his teensy hand as I speak. Hope he don’t burn
himself, though I suppose by now he should have the hang of it.
"Just like that, it’s a whole fresh year, kinda makes you
think… I hope y’all have a happy one! Thanks to Dingo Jones in Australia. Willis
Wilson- just you wait till I get my hands ‘round your scrawny turkey neck!
Chunk-headed moron, ain’t even got the brains God gave a tree stump! This is Tammi
Dupree from WKTY, signing off."
Clem made a "cut" motion and Tammi grimaced, "Now I got to
find my way home from here. This is the last time I pull this gig, I’ll have you
know! The traffics going to be monstrous bad at this hour. I’m telling Joe I
ain’t coming in to work tomorrow, so he can cover the Toad Hollow New Year’s Day
parade and fish fry on his own, unless he wants to bail out that worthless cousin of
mine."