to write a letter to the New York newspapers and tell 'em what a real he-American from the Middle West thinks about their town—
The noise, and traffic so thick you can't get anywhere, and the outrageous prices and—
And no home-life. Folks all out in the evening, hitting it up at these night clubs and everything. Now you take us, back home, for instance. Evenings, except maybe when I have to be at the lodge or some Kiwanis committee meetings, or maybe Delmerine or Robby are at the movies or a party or something, we all just settle down around the radio and have a real old-fashioned homey time together. But not in New York! No sir! I swear, I don't know what the nation's coming to—
And too many foreigners—fellows with Wop names and Hunky names and Lord knows what all—and this corrupt politics—
Oh say, speaking of politics, if I may interrupt myself a moment and take the risk of straying from my story, I got to tell you what I heard at the Kiwanis luncheon just this past week. Our