The Immoral Mr. Teas

For years man has retreated back to nature to make peace with himself.

Back where the sight of greenery against an azure blue sky,

the sweet, fresh, salt smell of the tide gently kissing the sandy shore,

the peaceful birds gathering to keep company to a bit of seaweed from some distant land.

the ancient rocks standing immobile against the horizon,

the gently bubbling brook running down the back of a friendly mountain

caressed by the heavenly leaves of a gracefully bending tree

can help him forget

the mad, impetuous, senseless, driving buzzle of the city with its traffic,

its sirens and its speed.

Modern living is driving an ambitious civilization

ever forward to higher buildings,

automatic autos,

more potent pills,

bigger stomach aches,

quicker liquor,

faster freeways and tighter underwear.

But the common man,

the simple, uncluttered fellow who merely lives from day to day,

what is he doing?

What is he thinking?

And where, I ask you, where is he going?

THE IMMORAL MR. TEAS

Who knows what mission the average man may set upon as he greets each new day?

Who knows what fate may befall him

in this helter skelter world in which we live?

The common man on a mission

together with an unobtrusive, inconspicuous brown suitcase

strapped to a bycicle.

Delivering radio-active isotopes

to speed research that will make our country invincible against enemy attack?

Or information, perhaps, that will aid our vast system of counter-espionage?

Modern man must find his place in society

and diligently pursue his objective,

never wavering from the appointed task for which he has been chosen

never shirking his duty or letting outside interferences deter him.

REST ROOM

Modern man must, in the course of his endeavors,

always keep his eyes on the future

for who knows how the windy zappers of fate may twist and cross two lives?

But what does man think of when the toils of day are ended?

His mind can turn to nobler thoughts:

books, music, poetry, companionship.

And so ends another day,

another seeming eternity in the complex scheme of things.

But all work and no play makes Willy a dull boy.

In fact, it makes anybody dull.

That's why you'll find modern man

leaving the hustle of the city to escape where the gentler sounds of nature

beckon him to rest a while

and seriously ponder his problems

unhindered by the bothersome distractions

that ordinarily harass him.

And so ends a day of meditation, a day of communion with nature.

Tomorrow the grind of labor will be lessened, perhaps,

by the fond memories that will linger.

Tomorrow, another dull day like the last.

Another dull day like the last?

Or has the pressure of modern living begun its insidious task

of breaking down the moral fiber of our indomitable Mr. Teas?

Psychiatry. A friendly oasis in the vast desert of masculine frustration.

The minute examination of the mind to discover the underlying mental causes

producing certain mental and nervous disorders.

But, as difficult as is modern civilization,

equally as forceful is the spirit of modern medicine.

A few words of friendly assurance

and once again the step is forceful

and Mr. Teas is on with newfound confidence.

Occasionally, of course, the need for more than one day's rest will arrive,

a pleasant prescription easily and pleasantly administered.