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By Dennis Carlson
Our cultural icons continue to fall. Just last week the man that had been the voice of Charlie Brown was arrested. I wondered what it would have looked like if the television show “COPS” had been there.
Two cops driving through a quiet suburban neighborhood notice a bald-headed man in a zig-zag t-shirt duck behind a doghouse. “You Sir! Behind the doghouse! Come out with your hands where we can see them!”
“Drat! Get out of here or I’ll have my dog strafe you with his Sopwith Camel!”
“This guy is obviously whacked. Better call for back up. I’ll try to talk him down. Now Mr. Brown, nobody wants any trouble, we just want to talk to you.”
“I see your lips moving, but all I hear is Wah-wah-wuh-wah-waa!”
“Does he have family or friends that could talk to him? We don’t need a hostage drama.”
Someone mentions he has a psychiatrist. “Get her.”
The psychiatrist arrives. A serious lady in a blue dress, her hair in a bun. A football under one arm, a tin can in her hand.
“Can you talk to him?”
“Certainly. Five cents, please.”
The nickel clinks in the can. The shrink starts shaking the can…”Money, money, money! Glorious money!”
“Lady, can you focus!”
“Certainly. Give me that bull horn. Charlie Brown, you blockhead! Why are you hiding? Are you afraid of open spaces or of being in crowded, public places like markets? Then you have Agoraphobia. Do you have a fear of imperfection? Then you have Atelophobia…”
Two commercial breaks later the frustrated cop screams “Lady! We just need him out of there!”
“Why didn’t you say so? You just said talk to him. Charlie Brown, will you kick my football while I hold it?”
The suspect peers around the corner of the doghouse, intrigued. “You always move the ball, Lucy!” “Not this time, Charlie Brown. I promise!”
She sets the ball on the ground, spinning it tantalizingly. The suspect seems in a fever. “I can kick that ball! I know I can! She’s not going to move it and I’m going to kick it!”
Suddenly, Brown rushes from behind the doghouse. Inches from the ball, the shrink pulls it away. “Augh!” exclaims Brown as he flips through the air and lands on the ground with a cymbal crash. The cops swarm him.
As the cops lead him away, music plays. Duh-da-dut-duh-da-dut-duh-dah… Bad boy…
Dennis Carlson is a firm believer that Whirled Peas are far superior – easier on the stomach – than Whipped Potatoes, Mashed Beets or Food Processed Green Beans. He and his wife, Kathy, and their cat Darwin live in Holt, where Denny is a volunteer fireman. You can write Dennis at firstname.lastname@example.org