I dreamed that I’d caught a catfish. The catfish told me that it was a magic fish and asked me to put it back in the lake. My first thought was, “Wow! A talking fish!”

“Free me, kind sir,” pleaded the fish.

“Will you grant me three wishes if I let you go?” I asked.

“No, but then I’d be able to get a job as a talking catfish with Disney.”

Other than you, dear reader, I don’t know many famous folks. My mother said that she knew three famous people. They were all from Iowa. Dick Dale was a singer on “The Lawrence Welk Show” on TV. Texas Bob Geigel was a pro wrestler, usually playing the part of a villain. The third was a lady with a flock of kids who appeared on the “Queen for a Day” program. This show was on both radio and TV. The program began with host Jack Bailey asking the audience, “Would you like to be queen for a day?”

There were typically four or five female contestants who vied for a slew of prizes. Each woman had to spill the beans and talk freely about financial and emotional hard times. As they opened themselves up like suitcases, Bailey stood at the ready with a white handkerchief available to dry eyes. As each of the contestants finished presenting her sob story and asking for what she needed, the studio audience clapped and an applause meter determined the winner.

The saddest tale was usually the winning one. To the musical accompaniment of “Pomp and Circumstance,” the winner was draped in a fur-trimmed, velvet robe, given a glittery crown and a dozen long-stemmed roses, and seated in a throne. There she was given the help she’d requested. Kitchen appliances, clothing, a diaper service for triplets, bunkbeds, backyard swing sets, nights on the town, etc. Consolation prizes like toasters and such were given to the non-winners. Some claimed that it was an exploitive reality show long before there were insulting reality shows. I don’t know. Bailey signed off with, “This is Jack Bailey, wishing we could make every woman a queen, for every single day.” I know that the lady that my mother knew was a winner and received a wringer washer among other gifts.

Back to my dreams. The second part of my double feature of dreams starred an old neighbor who had found a turkey vulture perched in an oak tree in his yard. He feared the loss of a laying hen. He leveled a shotgun at the bird. The vulture begged, “Please don’t shoot me. I am but a harmless turkey vulture. Your chickens have nothing to fear from me.”

“I don’t need a reason to shoot you. I need a reason not to shoot you. You’d better come up with one quick,” growled the farmer.

The turkey vulture tried to reason with the man saying that he was doing no damage to the farm. He was a good friend to have. He cleaned the land of dead animals and in the process, curtailed the spread of disease. He wasn’t good for eating. There was no reason to shoot him. The farmer remained steadfast in his intentions. The desperate turkey vulture said, “If you spare me, I will give you a golden shopping cart.”

The farmer said, “A golden shopping cart? What is that?”

The turkey vulture explained, “Each night, the golden shopping cart will be filled with food and placed in your machine shed. This I promise you.”

The farmer knew a good deal when he heard one. Free food was nothing to scoff at and no vulture had ever lied to him before. He didn’t need the food, but he wanted it. The deal was made. He spared the turkey vulture’s life.

The man had trouble sleeping. The next morning, he rose from bed and rushed to his machine shed. There he found a golden shopping cart just as promised. And it was filled with food just as the vulture had vowed. It was filled with dead opossums, raccoons and skunks.

Critics found “Queen For a Day” to be demeaning to women, maintaining that it forced them to grovel. Maybe so, but the woman my mother knew got what she needed without having to wrestle Texas Bob Geigel for it.

We want so much. If we are lucky, we get what we need.

 

Hartland resident Al Batt’s columns appear every Wednesday and Sunday.