I’ve mentioned in previous Mayberry Mondays
installments that every so often, the writing team behind Mayberry, R.F.D. felt it
necessary to remind viewers that the show’s main character—poor-but-honest-dirt-farmer-turned-city-council-head
Sam Jones (Ken Berry)—does, in fact, work on a farm…despite the fact that any
real farmer who spent as much time as Sam does jawing with his idiot friends
would soon be standing around watching as the county auctioned off his
stuff. As “The New Well” opens, we find
Sam atop a tall ladder peering into a large water tank as housekeeper Beatrice
“Aunt Bee” Taylor (Frances Bavier) and his son, Mike the Idiot Boy (Buddy
Foster), look on.
SAM: Okay…turn it on, Aunt Bee!
AUNT BEE: All right… (She and Mike
disappear out of the shot, apparently complying with Sam’s request) It’s on,
Sam!
MIKE: Any better, Pa?
SAM (calling down): No…no better…
Sam closes the door on top of the tank, and then makes his
way down the ladder to join Aunt Bee and Mike.
SAM: The flow’s way down…
AUNT BEE: Oh…well…maybe it’s just a
clogged pipe or something…
SAM: No…no, might as well face
it…the well’s gone dry…
AUNT BEE: Oh, dear…I was afraid of
that but I didn’t want to be the first one to say it…
MIKE: You mean we’re out of water,
Pa?
SAM: Not yet, no…but we will be if
we don’t do something about it…
MIKE: I could cut down on my baths…
Hey—the kid is already unpopular
as it is…I see this only as a win-win situation. But his father assures him that his regular
hygiene habits will continue unabated.
AUNT BEE: Well, what now, Sam?
SAM: We’ll just have to drill a new
well…no choice…
AUNT BEE: Oh, dear…
MIKE: Where are we gonna drill it,
Pa?
SAM: Well, that’ll be up to a
drilling company…a…a geologist…Aunt Bee, I think I’ll drive into Raleigh
tomorrow—there’s a couple of big drilling outfits up there…
AUNT BEE: Oh, Sam…this isn’t
serious, is it?
SAM: Oh, no…no…most wells run dry
sooner or later…we’ll find water around here someplace…
AUNT BEE: Oh…the soil taketh
away…and the soil giveth…
Methinks Aunt Bee has been smoketh something that Sam
groweth on the farm. As a sidebar, I once
worked for a motel in Savannah in
the early part of the nineties whose water source came from a well on the property. I swear I am not making this up. Everyone to whom I’ve told this story argues
that commercial establishments cannot be run using this kind of setup, but they
never met the owner of the BWC (Best Western Central): the wily and
parsimonious Robert Anderson. In an
episode that could have come straight out of a sitcom, it was Labor Day in 1991
when Mr. A’s well finally ran dry…and the unfortunate schmuck at the front desk
(do I really need to tell you who that was?) was pressed upon to come up with
creative excuses as to why none of the guests could bathe or shower. Here’s a testament to the amount of pull my
old boss had in that city: he got a crew
out on Labor Day to take care of the problem (hooking the hotel up to the
city water system). (Not long after, a
new well was dug and water once again flowed freely through the spigots and
faucets at the BWC.)
Now back to the real sitcom.
In a scene change, Mike the Idiot Boy works on his coordination skills
by bouncing a baseball off the roof while Aunt Bee sits on the porch, shelling
peas. She asks the little mook to “throw
that some place else”…which he interprets as “going to my immediate right and
bouncing the ball off that side of
the roof.” But it’s a good thing he’s
done this, or else he wouldn’t notice the prospector gentleman (complete with
burro) shambling up the front yard.
He’ll introduce himself as “J.B. Judson,” and since I’ve
already watched what transpires in this outing I’m guessing the “J.B.” stands
for “Just bullsh*t.” Judson is played by
venerable character thespian Douglas Fowley (billed here as Douglas V. Fowley),
who made appearances in so many films. chances are quite good you’ll run across
him if you’re watching a title at random.
His best-known movie role is probably that of frustrated movie director
Roscoe Dexter in the classic musical Singin’
in the Rain, but he also turns up in films as varied as Mighty Joe Young, Armored Car Robbery and The
High and the Mighty (he’s also in the reviled 1946 Columbia
cliffhanger Chick Carter, Detective
as reporter Rusty Farrell).
On the boob tube side, he guested on many of the medium’s
top shows and his longest-running gig was a semi-regular role as Doc Holliday
on The
Life and Legend of Wyatt Earp.
In the 1960s, Fowley decided to grow a beard and gravitate toward Gabby
Hayes-type parts, notably in the 1966-67 sitcom Pistols ‘n’ Petticoats—a
comedy-western that is one of the worst sitcoms I’ve ever watched, in case you
thought I embrace all sitcoms. (One of
Fowley’s last TV gigs was another sitcom stinker in 1979 entitled Detective
School, in which his character’s name was…get ready for the splitting
of sides to commence…”Robert Redford.”
Yuk yuk yuk.) Fowley was also the
father of music impresario Kim, who’s probably best known as the mastermind
behind the female rock group The Runaways…but because I’m wired sort of
differently, I always think of Kim as the man who created (along with Gary
Paxton) the fictional group The Hollywood Argyles, who recorded the one-hit
wonder Alley Oop.
JUDSON: Afternoon, ma’am…this here
the Jones farm?
AUNT BEE: Yes it is!
JUDSON: J.B. Judson’s the name…
AUNT BEE: How do you do, Mr.
Judson? I’m Beatrice Taylor…
JUDSON: Oh…that’s a mighty pretty
name...
AUNT BEE: Thank you…can we help
you?
JUDSON: I think I can help you,
ma’am…hear tell you’re lookin’ for water ‘round here…
MIKE: How did you know that?
JUDSON: Sonny…I can smell a dry
well from twenty miles…
“Which is sort of funny, because we could smell you from nearly
the same distance.”
JUDSON: Came to offer my services,
ma’am… (He removes a business card from his pocket) J.B. Judson…dowser!
AUNT BEE (staring at the card):
Dowser?
“I didn’t even know her!”
(Sorry about that.)
MIKE: What’s a dowser?
JUDSON: That’s my profession, sonny…I find water… (He reaches
into the pack on his burro and pulls out a stick) …with a divining rod…
AUNT BEE: Oh, yes…yes…
JUDSON (reaching for the card, as
he wants it back): Oh, I’m sorry, ma’am…my new supply of business cards ain’t
come in yet…
Vistaprint is kind of fussy about delivering to an address
that’s simply “Under the freeway bypass outside Siler
City ”…
MIKE: Can you find water with that
stick?
JUDSON: That’s not just a stick,
sonny…that’s a willow witch…both me
and the stick have got special powers…
I think you have that confused with Willow
the witch on Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
MIKE: Golly…
JUDSON: Uh…why don’t you tell Mr.
Jones I’m here and I can get started…?
AUNT BEE: Oh, I’m sorry, Mr.
Judson…Mr. Jones has gone to Raleigh to find out about a geologist…
JUDSON: Say—why don’t you give him
a call in Raleigh and tell him I’m here?
AUNT BEE: I’m sorry…I’m sure Mr.
Jones knows what he’s doing…
Sometimes the jokes just write themselves.
MIKE: Sure wouldn’t hurt to call
him!
JUDSON: Now, sonny…give your sister time to think…
MIKE: Sister?
AUNT BEE (blushing): Oh…oh ho…oh my
goodness! Oh…
You know, I thought all those flies buzzing around were
because this old tramp hasn’t seen soap and hot water since the Depression…but
now it would appear they’re from a different source.
JUDSON: I’m sorry, ma’am…I ain’t
wearin’ my specs…but I don’t need none to see that you’re a good cook…not many
young ladies would take time to shell peas these days…mind if I sit a spell?
You know, for one brief second I thought this might be the
episode where Aunt Bee and Mike are killed by the passing drifter. But as I have stated so many times on the
blog in the past, we simply aren’t that lucky.
Aunt Bee invites Judson up on the porch and he sits down beside her, holding
the basket of peas in his lap while she continues to shell them. They both reminisce about the way things used
to be; for example, he asks whatever happened to “the old hammock that was
always on the porch—no better place for sparkin’!” (I have never
been more grateful for the absence of a hammock on the porch at Casa del Jones
in my life.)
JUDSON: Yep, everything’s gone…it’s
the same with dowsin’…people just don’t take stock in it no more…
AUNT BEE: Well, you know—I remember
my father talking about a dowser trying to find water on the farm…
This bit o’dialogue seems to suggest that Aunt Bee’s
formative years were set against the background of a farm-like existence. But here’s the thing: in the premiere episode of R.F.D.,
Aunt Bee’s reluctance to keep house for the Jones boys stems from her admission
“I never lived on a farm before.” (This
is fortified by wacky scenarios involving her being spooked by cow noises and
being reluctant to “lift a chicken.”) So
there are several ways to interpret this:
1) In
referring to her father and the dowser, it was a story told to her long after
her pop got out of the farming bidness.
2) It’s
a sloppy continuity error on behalf of scribes Dick Bensfield and Perry Grant
(who based their teleplay on a story by associate producer Joel Swanson…so
named because he’s the only who would
associate with the producer).
3) We’re
witnessing the early onset of senile dementia.
I’m kind of leaning toward this last explanation because of what happens
next:
JUDSON: I’d better be goin’… (He
hands Aunt Bee the basket of peas and rises from his chair)
AUNT BEE (rising also): Uh…uh, Mr.
Judson…Mr. Jones will be back in the morning…would you like to talk to him
then?
JUDSON: Thank you, ma’am, but…I
don’t know where I’ll be…
MIKE: Where do you live?
AUNT BEE (disapprovingly): Oh,
Mike…
JUDSON (pointing to his burro):
Here’s my home…right here…wherever
Jenny and me can lay out my bedroll…
AUNT BEE: Oh…well…Mr. Judson…we
have a little room on the back of the barn…wouldn’t you care to spend the
night?
MIKE: Hey, yeah!
“And in the morning, Aunt Bee can prepare a hearty breakfast
just before you slash our throats with a bread knife!” Judson is a little reluctant to accept Aunt
Bee’s hospitality at first…but she finally persuades him to crash in the barn
for the night, so he leads his burro off in that direction.
MIKE: Boy, wait till Pa hears we
got a real dowser! Is he
gonna be surprised!
AUNT BEE: Yes, I suppose he will
be…but you know, Mike—I think you better let me tell him about it…
I just had a horrible vision…and it involves Judson busting
up a chifferobe—prompting a grateful Aunt Bee to follow him into the barn
and…(shudder) Sorry about burning that image on your retinas, good people. Back from Raleigh ,
Sam has good news: he’s found a drilling company, and their geologist will be
out first thing in the morning.
AUNT BEE (pouring him a cup of
coffee): Oh…so soon?
SAM: Ah…sure…might as well get
started…
AUNT BEE: Yes, I suppose so…I
mean…if you’re satisfied…
SAM: Why shouldn’t I be?
AUNT BEE: Oh, no reason…I guess…
SAM: Oh, I’m really impressed with
this outfit…
AUNT BEE: Oh, good…it’s just it
seems to me you’d want to explore some…other possibilities?
SAM: Oh? Like what?
AUNT BEE: Well…
Before Aunt Bee can get around to telling Sam she’s fallen
madly for a hobo and they went at it like rabbits in his barn, he hears the
plaintive “hee-haw” of Jenny the Burro out in the corral.
SAM: What was that?
AUNT BEE: Oh…well, I…I guess that’s
the burro…
Okay…I did snicker at this—partly because Bavier tosses it
off like “Oh, it’s just the teakettle boiling”…as if having a burro on that
farm is an everyday occurrence.
SAM: The burro?
AUNT BEE: Mm-hmm…Mr. Judson’s
burro…
SAM: And who is Mr. Judson?
AUNT BEE: Well, he’s the old
gentleman who owns the burro…
“Aunt Bee…anytime you want to tell me about it—I’m ready…”
Sam says patiently, and so Aunt Bee suggests they go out to the barn to meet
Judson. She is very careful to also
suggest to Sam “Only I just hope you realize that sometimes the old-fashioned
ways are the best…like shelling your own peas.”
This is what “the room in the barn” looks like—and I have to
tell you, I’m not entirely certain why this is on the premises outside of
making things more convenient to move the plot along. Because a room like that…you could rent it
out to somebody like Goober, or…okay, I’ve been out in the sun too long. (By the way—George Lindsey is listed at the
IMDb as appearing as village idiot Goob in this episode…but I didn’t see him;
it’s possible he was the victim of a little syndication trimming.)
AUNT BEE: Mr. Judson, I’d like you
to meet Sam Jones…
JUDSON (getting up from the bed and
shaking Sam’s hand): Glad to meet ya, Mr. Jones! Hear tell you’re a real down-to-earth farmer!
Jud…you might have gotten away with that “sister” crap
around Aunt Bee…but Sam’s got a bit more Moxie on the ball than you’d suspect
at first glance.
JUDSON: You want water? I’ll find it!
SAM: Well…look, Mr. Judson…
JUDSON: All I need is my willow
witch! None of that expensive,
Johnny-come-lately hocus pocus…
SAM: Yeah…well, look…Mr.
Judson…see…I…
JUDSON: Results guaranteed!
“I'll eat anything you want me to eat. I'll swallow anything you want me to swallow. But, come on down and I'll... chew on a dog! Awrroooo!”
SAM: Aunt Bee…please…look, Mr. Judson—I have a geologist coming out first thing
in the morning…
JUDSON: Is he guaranteed to find
water?
SAM: Well, they give it a 75%
chance…
JUDSON: I’ll give you 100%!
AUNT BEE: A hundred percent, Sam!
SAM: Aunt Bee…Mr. Judson, I’m
sorry…it was nice of you to stop by, but it’s like I said—I’ve already made
other arrangements…
AUNT BEE: Well, Sam, you could at
least walk…
SAM: Aunt Bee…I have already made other arrangements…
“Curb your tongue, saucy house wench!”
JUDSON: Well…that’s okay…that’s
okay…if you want to take a gamble…
AUNT BEE: Well, I’m sorry, Mr.
Judson…
JUDSON: That’s okay, young lady…I’m
gettin’ used to it…
Young lady. That
“willow witch” can certainly find its share of B.S., that’s for sure. Judson asks Sam if he can stick around “and
see if that college kid lucks out,” and though Mistah Jones is hesitant, Aunt
Bee kind of throws her weight around a little by noting “Now, Sam…if Mr. Hudson
would like to observe…” It’s as if she’s sort of forgotten that it’s
entirely Sam’s prerogative—nothing keeping him from tossing this skid row bum
off his property if he so desires. But
Sam’s a decent sort, and acquiesces…and once he’s left the “barn room” Aunt Bee
gives Judson a sort of “high sign” to let him know he’s still in the running. (Either that or she’s thanking him for
rocking her world the previous evening…I’m almost afraid to ask.)
It’s the next day, and Sam is conferring with a geologist
named Harris, who’s played by bit actor Hal Lynch. Lynch’s film credits include appearances in Stagecoach (the 1966 version) and Wild Rovers, and he made the rounds on
TV series like Gunsmoke, The Fugitive, Star Trek (“Tomorrow is
Yesterday”), The Big Valley and The F.B.I. back in the day. His show bidness career was relatively brief;
he retired in 1975 and returned to his hometown of Opp ,
Alabama to become a columnist and community
historian for Opp’s local paper.
According to the (always reliable) IMDb, “he called 911 and then shot
himself about an hour after submitting his last article” on the day of his
death in 2006. Tragic story.
HARRIS (looking at a large map):
The counter on the north end would seem to indicate water…but I think we’re
gonna hit sandstone at about thirty feet… (Judson, who has shambled up to where
Sam and Harris are standing, suppresses a chuckle) That’s porous enough for
water, but to get any kind of volume we’re gonna have to hit a bedding plain or
some kind of open cavity…
JUDSON: What are ya chargin’ for
all them big words, sonny?
SAM: Mr. Judson…if you don’t
mind…uh…it’s up to you, Mr. Harris—you’re the expert…
The many years of sleeping with a burro seems to have taken
the edge off of ol’ J.B.’s manners…he snorts and rolls his eyes. “I ain’t much for readin’ maps…but where is
that in real life?”
HARRIS: Well, it’s about…twenty
feet that side of that tree…we oughta hit water about forty feet down…
JUDSON: Whaddya charge for a haul
like that, Skippy?
HARRIS: It’ll run about three
hundred…
JUDSON: Eh…you mind if I check it
with my wand?
SAM: Yeah, fine…fine…go ahead…
Judson shambles off (that’s really the best way to describe
his manner of walking, by the way—all those years with the burro have left him
bowlegged) as Sam apologizes to Harris for not having done the old man in with
a shovel to the cranium and buried him already.
(Hey—he’s good friends with the deputy sheriff in that burg…no one would
need to know.) As if Sam doesn’t have
enough problems, pedantic county clerk Howard Sprague (Jack Dodson) walks into
the picture…and I’m going to give this episode the benefit of the doubt in
assuming that this well-digging is a weekend project, otherwise someone is
severely neglecting his government job.
I’m surprised fix-it savant Emmett Clark (Paul Hartman) didn’t come
along with Howard—he must still be recuperating from that tumble he took in
last week’s episode.
HOWARD: I hear you’re digging for a
new well…
SAM: Oh…yeah…’fraid we have to…what
can I do for you?
HOWARD: Oh,
nothing…nothing…heh…just curious…you know, when something big happens in
Mayberry I don’t like to miss out on
it…
“Besides…I’m bored with my rock collection…and no one will
ever play chess with me.” Sam introduces
Howard to Harris the Geologist, and then Howard notices Judson out wandering
around with his divining wand. “Who’s
that guy… what’s he doing?” Howard asks our hero.
SAM: Oh, that’s Mr. Judson…he’s a dowser…
HOWARD: Oh—you mean one of those
fellows who looks for water with a stick?
SAM (laughing): Yeah…yeah…
HOWARD: Say…you play all the
angles, don’tcha?
(Both of them laugh)
SAM: No…no…I’m not playing any
angles…he’s a friend of Aunt Bee’s…
“And just between you, me and the lamppost…I think they did
it in my spare room in the barn.”
HOWARD: Oh…real bit of Americana …
SAM: Oh, yeah…
HARRIS: And they can find water…
Kind of unusual for Harris to admit this, seeing as he’s
going to charge Sam $300 a pop to go looking for the wet stuff.
JUDSON: You sure that’s where you
want to dig, Skippy?
“You call me ‘Skippy’ one more time, old man, and the reason
why you walk that way will be because you’ve got a willow witch wedged up your
ass…”
HARRIS: That’s it!
SAM: I suppose you don’t think
that’s the right spot…
JUDSON: Not unless you got use for
a forty-foot posthole…
Every episode…one moment that makes me laugh out loud.
You’ll notice in this screen cap that they got a pump set up
in record time (and there’s Jenny the Burro in the background, nibbling on
Sam’s non-existent vegetation) and when Sam asks Harris how long it will be
before they hit water the geologist tells him “We’ll know in a minute.” Mike and Aunt Bee arrive on the site, with
Bee carrying out cups and a pitcher of ice water.
MIKE: Hurry up, Aunt Bee—you’re
missing everything!
AUNT BEE: I’m coming, I’m coming…
some ice water, Sam?
SAM: Well, yeah…thanks!
JUDSON: I’d start rationin’ that stuff if I was you…
A laugh-out-loud twofer this week.
As the drill comes to the surface, Howard gushes “I just
love watching this stuff.” (I am not
going to go there.) The machinery is
pulled out of the hole, and Harris tests the ends to see if there is any
moisture.
SAM: Well? Did we hit it?
HARRIS (after a pause): Sorry, Mr.
Jones…she came up dry…
“Jenny here coulda picked a better spot than that,” kibitzes
Judson from his spot lying on the grass.
Since it’s time for a General Foods break, maybe they’ll have killed the
old fart by the time they get back.
Back from the commercial, Judson is still among the
living…and he’s walking the property with his water wand extended (stop that
snickering) until the stick starts to vibrate.
“Water…water…” he mumbles to himself, and the scene switches to inside
the familiar living room inside the house at Jones Farm.
SAM (coming down the stairs):
Oh…Aunt Bee, I’m gonna run outside first and…
MIKE (running in from the kitchen):
Pa!
He did it! He did it!
SAM: What? Who did what?
MIKE: Mr. Judson found water!
AUNT BEE: Oh! Really???
JUDSON (coming in from the
kitchen): Yes, sir! All the water you
can use! Seventy feet down, one hundred and thirty
gallons a minute…
AUNT BEE: Oh!
MIKE: Wow!
AUNT BEE: Where?
JUDSON: Well…that’s where the
negotiatin’ comes in…my fee’s fifty dollars…
“And another roll in the hay with your young lady here…”
SAM: Now, wait a minute…wait a
minute, Mr. Judson…I didn’t ask you
to do this…
JUDSON: I know it’s down there,
sonny… (He starts getting breathy with excitement) Pure…sweet water…I was just
out there…goin’ back and forth…followin’ my dowser pattern…usin’ all of my
mental powers…every nerve in my body
workin’…and then all of a sudden…I felt a tremblin’…and…down she goes…wham!
Judson describes this as if it were a religious
experience…though I suspect he won’t require that roll in the hay now that he’s
finished.
SAM: Look…Mr. Judson…it was awful
nice of you to take the time to do this, but…I got the geologist coming back
Monday…
JUDSON: Well…you think about it,
sonny…I’ll be around…
“I wouldn’t make book on that…Aunt Bee, get Goober on the
phone and tell him to bring over that rubber hose out by the gas pump…”
JUDSON: The way I see it…you got
two choices…you drill where I tell ya…and you’ll hit water…or ya let that
college boy turn your farm into a Swiss
cheese! At $300 a hole!
Judson shambles back into the kitchen, prompting Aunt Bee
and Mike to start pleading Judson’s case.
AUNT BEE: Well, Sam?
SAM: Well what?
“Well” as in you ain’t got one…’cept a dry’un.
AUNT BEE: Well, he found water!
SAM: He claims he found water…
MIKE: Well, then what made the stick bend down?
SAM: I don’t know what made it bend down…
AUNT BEE: Well, something did!
SAM: Yeah, something did—maybe it works! I don’t know!
Or…or maybe he just wants it to work so badly that he makes that stick point down without even realizing it! Just maybe…
Later that evening, Samuel Jones tosses and turns in his
bed, having fitful dreams about his well situation, with voices echoing in his subconscious:
HARRIS: They can find water…
JUDSON: Swiss cheese…
MIKE: What made the stick bend down?
AUNT BEE: Well, something did…
Congratulations, Sam.
Your dreams are every bit as boring as your waking state. Oh, check out this next screen cap—Sam is
doing manual labor!
Laying down the sack of feed (snicker), Sam approaches the
spare room in the barn and finds Judson’s “willow witch” on a chest of drawers…
He picks up the wand, holding it for a few seconds…and then
he puts it down, allowing his rational nature to take the wheel. But then his superstitious fears hit Rational
with a sap and stow it in the back seat, and he takes the divining rod with
him, exiting the barn.
There is then a cut to a shot of Aunt Bee picking berries
(the amount of farm content in this episode is amazing!) and when she looks up,
she notices that Sam is wandering around the property with Judson’s divining
rod in his hands. He can’t see Aunt Bee
since he’s stumbling around with his eyes closed…and then the tip of the stick
nudges Bee in the gut.
AUNT BEE: Hello, Sam…
SAM: Oh! (Laughing) Aunt Bee! I’m just…I’m just having some fun here…
AUNT BEE: Well—did it wiggle?
Isn’t that a rather personal question?
SAM: Oh…oh, no…of course not…I was
just kidding around…
AUNT BEE: Oh, Sam…I think you feel
the same way I do about this…now
there just might be something to
this…
SAM (stammering): No…no…I was…I
was…oh…I don’t know why I came out here for in the first place…it’s
ridiculous—here I am, supposed to be a modern farmer…
“Modern” in that he uses unorthodox methods like spending
time with his farm only when this sitcom dictates.
SAM: …and I’m wandering out here
with a stupid stick…
AUNT BEE: Well, it’s perfectly understandable
and I think you should give some
thought to Mr. Judson…
This Judson guy has really got a hypnotic hold on Aunt
Bee. He’s like the second coming of
Charlie Manson or something. But Sam
continues to think this whole dowsing thing is idiotic, and with a scene change
Harris the Geologist and his crew are continuing to (couldn’t resist the pun)
soak Sam by hitting nothing but dry wells.
As Sam paces nervously back and forth, he walks over to a “way station”
set up by Aunt Bee and gets himself a cup of ice water. Howard (he took the day off) and Aunt Bee are
sitting on chairs beside the table.
HOWARD: How’s it going?
SAM: Don’t know yet…
AUNT BEE: Oh…this is nerve racking…
HOWARD: Yeah… (Offering her a bag)
Peanuts, Aunt Bee?
Ladies and gentlemen…a R.F.D. LOL hat trick. (Although to be fair, that peanuts gag is
really more of a Goober joke.) The drill
comes up to the surface, and after examining it Harris quietly replies: “Still
dry.” (Or as a famous Christmas
claymation prospector once observed: “Nothin’!”)
The drillers are taking a third stab at finding water, but
old man Judson has decided that he’s got things to do, people to see, trash to
haul, corn to hoe…
AUNT BEE: Oh, Mr. Judson…are you
leaving?
JUDSON: Yep… (Shouting to be heard
about the noise of the machinery) Good luck to you, Mr. Jones!
SAM: Thank you…thank you…
JUDSON: I’ll be moseyin’! (He starts to make clicking noises to his
burro) Come on, Jenny…
SAM (getting to his feet): Uh, Mr.
Judson…just out of curiosity…how do you feel about this place where we’re
drilling?
JUDSON: You payin’ or freeloadin’?
Mighty bold talk from the guy who spent a couple of nights
rent-free in Sam’s barn…along with some additional fringe benefits, if you know
what I mean…and I think you do. Sam tells
him to “forget it,” and when the machinery once again reaches the surface…still
no water.
JUDSON (to Harris): Well,
Skippy—you blew it again!
SAM: Now, look…Mr. Judson…nobody
asked…
JUDSON (interrupting Sam): Now you look, sonny…if you listen to me, I’ll
tell ya where ya can find water…and ya won’t have to drill more than twenty feet down!
HARRIS: Twenty feet? You can’t find
water within twenty feet anywhere in
this whole county!
JUDSON: Ya wouldn’t want to put
your money where your mouth is…would you, mister?
Actor Fowley has a little trouble articulating the word
“mouth”—it’s almost like he’s saying “put your money where your mouse is”…
HARRIS: Ten bucks...says you’re
full of hot air!
AUNT BEE: Oh, my!
JUDSON: You’re on!
SAM: Now, wait a minute…I’ve got
something to say about this…and I’m not
startin’ another well on your say-so…
(To Harris) Or yours either, for that matter…
JUDSON: You don’t have to, sonny…just drill straight down
there…that’s where I found water!
HARRIS: Wait a minute—you said twenty
feet! We’ve already gone down fifty feet!
JUDSON: The water’s at seventy feet…and that’s no more than
twenty feet of drillin’…
SAM: You mean…keep drilling here?
JUDSON: That’s what I said, Mr.
Jones…here…
(Sam looks at Harris)
HARRIS (rolling his eyes): It’s up
to you!
SAM (after looking again at
Judson): Take ‘er down, Charlie!
You heard the pretend farmer, Charlie—take ‘er down! Charles does indeed take her down, and it’s
not long before the bit is covered with mud.
HARRIS (as the rest of them cheer):
We’ve got water!
JUDSON: One hundred and thirty
gallons a minute!
SAM: Whoa!
HARRIS: Well, that’s about it!
JUDSON: No, it ain’t, sonny…not
quite—ten bucks, please!
Harris reaches in his pocket for his wallet, but because his
right hand is covered with muck, Judson takes a sawbuck out of his billfold.
SAM: I guess I owe you fifty dollars for your services…
JUDSON: Oh, no…you don’t owe me a
thing…besides, you folks have been pretty good to me…but this ten bucks from
the college boy is pay enough for this,
boy! (Harris laughs and shakes his head)
I think I’ll frame it—gimme a few chuckles in my old age!
Where are you going to hang it, homeless guy? On the burro?
Having availed himself of the Jones hospitality, Judson prepares to
mosey on down the road with ever faithful Jenny. Sam thanks him again, and tells him he’ll
recommend Judson’s services the next time someone in Mayberry is in need of
water…but Judson is having serious thoughts about retiring from the dowsing
business.
“But you were right,” Aunt Bee points out. “I’m always
right,” Judson counters. “But look at
all I had to go through to get you to listen.”
No, he’s going to make a late life career change and follow the example
of his Uncle Ned:
SAM: What business was he in?
JUDSON: Rainmakin’… (Sam gives Aunt
Bee a comical look) I remember he had this big cannon…and it shot bombs up in
the sky…explodin’ chemicals all around up there!
AUNT BEE: Really?
JUDSON: Yeah… (Laughing) He was
quite a showman, too…and he always started out with a little ritual…I
remember…first he put on his raincoat…then he’d take a sponge like this…and
he’d squeeze the sponge in his hand…and he’d shake it up in the sky…and he’d
say…”Clouds…clouds…clouds come on by…sponge…sponge…draw
water from the sky!” And he’d slowly
open his hand and…
In the distance, there is a peal of thunder…and the three of
them see a storm cloud in the distance.
“Hey!” Judson exclaims. “Maybe it
runs in the family! I’m gonna have to do
me some research!”
Judson takes his leave, telling them to “look me up” in case
of a drought. Aunt Bee then says to Sam:
“Do you think…maybe…?” All Sam can do is
shrug his shoulders and hope the coda to this thing is funnier.
Well, it’s not…except for one small detail (and it’s not the
writers’ contribution, it’s just me being a smartass). Mike rides up to the house on his bike, and
explains to his father that he was playing ball…but as you can tell from this
screen cap…
…he’s a bit smudged with grunge. Sam walks over to the bushes and grabs a
stick and starts pulling the leaves off, and for a brief moment I thought “Oh,
man…that kid is going to get a beating!
This is the best R.F.D.
episode ever!” But no…all Sam does is
fashion a divining rod of his own, allowing it to take him and Mike into the
house…where it ends up vibrating in the vicinity of upstairs, as young
Michael’s bath awaits. (Please…I don’t
want anyone too convulsed with laughter.)
Well, with Aunt Bee back in the picture around the Jones
family homestead, Thrilling Days of
Yesteryear’s patented Bee-o-Meter™ is ready once again to calibrate the
number of appearances Frances Bavier has made on R.F.D. before she
ceremoniously departs the show (actually, if memory serves my correct it’s
simply mentioned in passing, almost as if it was like “Aunt Bee died falling
into the root cellar…what’s on the menu at the diner?”) in the third
season. But for now, it’s seven
appearances in the second season…with a total of nineteen show-ups
overall. The person I’m most concerned
about, however, is bakery goddess Millie Swanson (Arlene Golonka)—who’s been
MIA for two weeks now and won’t be in our next Mayberry Mondays
installment, “Emmett and the Ring,” either.
(If Millie has jumped ship to another sitcom—I need to know which one
immediately!)
2 comments:
The horror! The horror! I feared the day would come and you would reach this episode. When I was a child, this outing was burned into my brain down to the last crappy joke, and I have never been able to forget it for reasons that pass understanding. The scarring my young brain took from R.F.D. is just too awful for me to contemplate.
Here’s a testament to the amount of pull my old boss had in that city
Amount of pull AND incriminating photos.
“Which is sort of funny, because we could smell you from nearly the same distance.”
HAHA!
And that Vistaprint joke... Yes. Yes.
I'm afraid to ask what the hobo means by "sparkin'" because, well, let's just say what I think he means can't be what he really means, because the only TV show in 1970 that ever mentioned pot was the revamped Dragnet.
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