"Hi! Uncle Eddie here! I'm a city boy and I'll be moving to a small town soon. I've never lived in a small town so I'm reading all I can about that kind of place, so I'll know what to expect. The book I'm reading now is called "Peydon Place." Here's an excerpt:
EDDIE (READING): "The plain, small, average town of Peydon Place reclined like a hot, passionate woman in the late morning sun."
"On Maple Street the Kensing house stood naked to the sunshine. From its rosy red shingles to its well-rounded roof, it almost cried to be taken."
"Behind the window shades, which hung like sensuous lids, in her upstairs room, young Alice Kensing finished dressing to go out."
"Past the City Hall she walked, past the cannon, past the pigeons and the statue of Robert E. Lee."
"Yikes! This stuff is kinda' steamy!"
"I always thought small town people were more...well...you know...
basic."
"Gee, do you suppose that nowadays they're modern like the rest of us?"
"Naw, small towns are different!"
"The story must have it wrong."
"Even so, you have to wonder."
"Surely small town institutions are no different than they are anywhere else."
"Okay, maybe they're different on weekends."
"Maybe..."
"...I don't know...maybe there's something in the water in small towns, something that gets the juices going."
"Or maybe the pine cones release some sort of caffeine vapor."
"Or..."
"...Or maybe the book was written by a wicked city woman who never set foot in a small town. Who knows?"
