Uncle John’s Giant 10th Anniversary Bathroom Reader (68 page)

For heart disease:
Drink foxglove tea. (Foxglove contains digitalis, which is used today to combat heart disease.)

To cure boils:
Carry nutmeg in your pocket.

To treat cramps:
Place a magnet at the foot of the bed to draw the pain from the body. Also wear a piece of “tarred yarn” around the upper leg.

To get rid of warts:
Procedures for getting rid of warts must be done in complete secrecy in order to be effective. Here are three different cures:

• Whirl a strip of bacon around your head until you get tired, then bury it. When it rots the warts will be gone.

• Rub each wart with a bean, a pickle, an onion, a slice of potato and the skin of a chicken gizzard—then bury them.

• Tie half of a grapefruit over the wart and wear it each night until the wart disappears.

To cure a cold:
Fry some onions, mix them with turpentine, spread them on your chest. (Alternative: boil an old hog hoof and drink the water.)

To cure chicken pox:
Lie on the floor of a chicken house and get somebody to chase a flock of hens over you.

To grow taller:
Eat a banana. Each time you eat one, you will grow.

To have curly hair:
Pour rum or the juice of wild grapes on your head, and eat bread crusts with carrots. But if you are a girl, be sure not to whistle or you will grow a beard.

To cure asthma:
Eat carrots.

To keep the brain clear:
Sprinkle eyebrows with rosewater.

Relief from lumbago:
Roll around in grass at the sound of the first cuckoo.

To gain strength:
Drink rusty water from a rain barrel.

To cure rheumatism:
Wear an eel skin around your waist.

To get rid of a headache:
Stick a match in your hair. (Alternative: Tie the head of a buzzard around your neck.)

To get rid of freckles:
Rub a live frog over your face.

To relieve a stomach ache:
Take lily roots with wine.

To treat frostbite:
Cow manure and milk, used as a poultice.

To cure lameness, muscle aches and pains:
Use skunk grease.

Here’s the next installment of the radio adventures of Groucho and Chico Marx, from
Five Star Theater
(which aired in 1933).

MRS. BRITTENHOUSE:
Is this a detective agency?

GROUCHO:
A
detective
agency? Madam, if there’s anything in it for me, this is Scotland Yard.

MRS. BRITTENHOUSE:
This man told me he was taking me to a detective bureau.

CHICO:
You’re cuckoo, I did not. You stop me in the hall. You say you want a detective. I say, you go see Flywheel. You say alright. Well, here’s Flywheel.

MRS. BRITTENHOUSE:
Sir, are you or aren’t you a detective? My time is money.

GROUCHO:
Your time is money? I wonder if you could lend me ten minutes for lunch, or maybe a half an hour for the rent?

MRS. BRITTENHOUSE:
For the last time, are you a detective?

GROUCHO:
Madam, for the first time I
am
a detective.

MRS. BRITTENHOUSE:
Well, you don’t look much like a detective to me.

GROUCHO:
That’s the beauty of it. See? I had you fooled already.

MRS. BRITTENHOUSE:
Is this man who brought me in a detective too?

CHICO:
Sure, I’m a detective. I prove it. Lady, you lose anything today?

MRS. BRITTENHOUSE:
Why, I don’t think so. Heavens! My handbag has disappeared.

CHICO:
Here it is.

MRS. BRITTENHOUSE:
Where did you find it?

CHICO:
Right here in my pocket.

GROUCHO:
Isn’t he marvelous, madam? He has the nose of a bloodhound, and his other features aren’t so good either.

MRS. BRITTENHOUSE:
Well, you’re just the men I’m looking for.

CHICO:
You’re looking for us? Hey, are you a detective?

MRS. BRITTENHOUSE:
No, no. You misunderstand me. You see, my daughter is getting married this afternoon.

GROUCHO:
Oh, your daughter’s getting married? I love those old-fashioned girls.

MRS. BRITTENHOUSE:
We’re having a big wedding reception, and I want you two men to come out this afternoon and keep an eye on the wedding presents. They’re very valuable, and I want to be sure that nothing is stolen.

CHICO:
How much you pay us? You know it’s very hard work not to steal anything.

MRS. BRITTENHOUSE:
I think fifty dollars would be adequate. But you understand, of course, that you’re not to mingle with the guests.

GROUCHO:
Well, if we don’t have to mingle with the guests we’ll do it for forty dollars.

MRS. BRITTENHOUSE:
Dear, dear, I must hurry. My daughter can’t get married unless I get her trousseau.

CHICO:
Trousseau? You mean Robinson Trousseau?

GROUCHO:
Your daughter’s marrying Robinson Crusoe today? Monday? Wouldn’t she be better off if she’d marry the man Friday?

MRS. BRITTENHOUSE:
Well, I must hurry along now. Goodbye, gentlemen. I’ll be looking for you this afternoon.

GROUCHO:
Well, why look for us this afternoon when we’re here right now?

(Later, at the Brittenhouse mansion)

MRS. BRITTENHOUSE:
Hello, Mr. Flywheel. Hives, our butler, will take care of you. Oh, dear, I’m always so nervous at weddings. I’m really not myself today.

GROUCHO:
You’re not yourself, eh? Well, whoever you are, you’re no bargain.

HIVES:
Now, on these two tables here, gentlemen, are the presents. Please watch them very carefully.
(Receding.)
I’ll have to leave you now.

(Tap at the window.)

GROUCHO:
I think there’s somebody at the window. You’d better let him in.

CHICO:
Hey, boss. He’s a great big guy and he looks very tough.

(Tap again.)

CHICO:
Hey, who are you?

MAN:
Never mind who I am. Who are you guys?

CHICO:
We’re a coupla detectives.

MAN:
Oh, you’re a coupla detectives. Ha, ha, ha! That’s a hot one!

GROUCHO:
Well, I’ve heard better ones than that, but it’s fairly good.

MAN:
Hey, what are you guys supposed to do here?

CHICO:
I watch da presents. Flywheel, he watch me, but we got no one to watcha Flywheel.

MAN:
Well, you can clear outta here. I’ll do the whole ting for you.

GROUCHO:
Ravelli, that fellow certainly is a prince. I’m getting out of here before he changes his mind.

(Opens and closes door. Footsteps)

MRS. BRITTENHOUSE:
Why, Mr. Flywheel, I thought you were supposed to stay in that room with the presents!

GROUCHO:
Madam, I couldn’t stand being alone in that room. I just had to have another look at you. And now that I’ve had that look, I can hardly wait to get back to the presents.

MRS. BRITTENHOUSE:
Why, Mr. Flywheel!

GROUCHO:
Don’t call me Mr. Flywheel, just call me Sugar.

MRS. BRITTENHOUSE:
Oh, Mr. Flywheel, I simply love the things you say.

GROUCHO:
Oh, Mrs. Britten-house—I know you’ll think me a sentimental old softie, but would you give me a lock of your hair?

MRS. BRITTENHOUSE
(coyly): Why, Mr. Flywheel!

GROUCHO:
I’m letting you off easy—I was going to ask you for the whole wig.

MRS. BRITTENHOUSE:
Well, we’ll discuss that later. It’s too bad you can’t join us now for refreshments, but maybe some evening you’d like to have me for dinner.

GROUCHO:
Have you for dinner? Well, if there’s nothing better to eat, I wouldn’t mind, but personally, I’d prefer a can of salmon.

HIVES:
Mrs. Brittenhouse! Mrs. Brittenhouse!

GROUCHO:
Is there no privacy here?

MRS. BRITTENHOUSE:
Why Hives, what’s the matter?

HIVES:
The presents! The presents!

MRS. BRITTENHOUSE:
What about the presents?

HIVES:
They’re gone. We’ve been robbed!

GROUCHO:
Robbed? Where’s Ravelli? Quick, find Ravelli!

CHICO:
Here I am, boss. How you makin’ out?

GROUCHO:
Listen, Ravelli. I thought I told you to watch the presents.

CHICO:
That’s just what I was doing.

GROUCHO:
There you are, Mrs. Brittenhouse. You have nothing to worry about.

HIVES:
But, madam, the presents are gone.

CHICO:
Boss, I watch them just like a bloodhound. You remember that big fellow? He came in da room …well, I watch him …

ALL:
Yes…

CHICO:
He walked over and picked up da presents and I watch him…

ALL:
Yes…

CHICO:
He took them out da window! He put them on a truck and I watch him…

ALL:
Yes…

CHICO:
But when da truck drives away…then I cannot watch no more.

GROUCHO:
You’re a genius. And now, Mrs. Brittenhouse, how about our fifty dollars?

First Lite Beer was a hit…then Light Beer…and then, Light Food. Finally, it turned into the most comprehensive labelling law in U.S. history. Here’s the rest of this unlikely story. (Continued from
page 322
.)

E
ATING LIGHT

By the late 1980s, the term “lite” had spread from beer to every kind of food imaginable. Consumers could buy “light” oil, cheese, salad dressing, ice cream, whiskey, pudding, crackers, hot dogs, even cat food (Tender Vittles Lite). In fact, by 1991 there were an estimated 10,000 “light” products on supermarket shelves.

“Next to foods that can be microwaved,” reported a manager of the U.S.’s largest supermarket chain in 1989, “light foods are the fastest-growing segment in our stores. If two comparable products are on the shelf next to each other, the one that says ‘Light’ will probably sell better.”

What was behind the lite boom? Polls showed that although most Americans weren’t inclined to radically alter diets or start exercising more, they still wanted to make some kind of “healthy” change. “Lite” food filled the bill perfectly. Everyone knew that “light” or “lite” on a package meant it was better for you. So by eating
lite,
people eat
right
—and still enjoy the same food they always had. It was a way to “ have it all.”

“Everyone wants to indulge,” commented a food industry newsletter in 1990. “This way, you can indulge and not be so bad.”

THE HEAVY TRUTH

But to a large extent, lite food was a hoax. It didn’t have to be better for you, because legally,
lite
and
light
didn’t mean anything at all. The terms could be applied to any product for almost any reason.

A “light” margarine might be lighter in color…or sold in a smaller package (which would make it lighter in
weight).
A “light” pudding might be lower in calories…or
higher
in calories, with a “lighter” texture. As the customer relations manager of Kroger Supermarkets tactfully put it: “It’s kind of confusing for customers. When they pick up something that says ‘Light/ it may not be at all what they expect.” For example: According to published reports, on a shopping trip in 1990-91 you could buy…

•
Klondike Lite Frozen Dessert Bars
. Cutting down on fat? These babies had 7 grams of fat per serving—more than triple the FDA’s recommendations for low-fat claims.

•
Bertolli Mild & Light Olive Oil
. Light in color, but no change in calories.

•
Lipton’s Lite Cup-a-Soup Chicken Soup
. Had exactly the same amount of calories as their regular chicken Cup-a-Soup.