Your Coca-Cola Bottler presents Claudia, based on the famous play and novels by Rose Franken. Brought to you transcribed Monday through Friday by your friendly neighbor who bottles Coca-Cola. Relax and while you're listening refresh yourself. Have a Coke. And now, Claudia. Claudia, shh. What mama? Shh I said. Oh, you know it's not proper to sing in a doctor's waiting room. Not a superstition, like an umbrella in the house. It's just manners. Well there is nobody here to watch my manners. But if you'd rather I'll just sit around looking depressed. You don't have to go to extremes. Well talking about extremes, mama, I don't see why I had to come to this doctor's at all. You know Dr. Rowland wants you to have a doctor for the baby all picked out. If we're going to like Dr. Taft? We are not going to like him. We aren't? Well then what are we sitting around here waiting to see him for? We are not going to see him. We are? Then let's go. Come on. You are going to see him. You are enough. Well I'd like you to look at him too. If you like him that's all that's necessary. I am not going to need a baby doctor for weeks. How can you be so sure? Of course I guess it is a good thing to shop in advance. Having a nice baby doctor in Bridgeport right near where we live is sort of like, like having extra cans on the shelf. Exactly. David doesn't like cans. David likes the idea of our getting all settled with Dr. Taft before we go into New York and I become a grandmother. The way you talk about becoming a grandmother always sounds as if you forget I'm going to become a mother in the bargain. I must admit that part of it has always seemed a little remote to me. Oh I'm glad I started young. Just think at this rate, mama, you'll be a great grandmother before your hair turns white. It turns white at the very thought. Did you ever stop to think this was really going to happen to us? Yes, I stopped to think of it, I'll admit. When was the first time? When you were about three months old. You were lying under a pink satin blanket. I looked at you then and tried to imagine the day I'd be a grandmother. What did you imagine, mama? Nobody as nice as David. You didn't look as if you'd have the sense to fall in love with somebody like David. Well I was only three months old. What did you expect of me? A great deal. I know. Your grandson isn't anything old yet. And I already expect a great deal of him. He has a good father. Is that all? Don't you have a decent word to say about his charming, brilliant, gay-spirited young wife? I don't have to say about her. She says entirely too much about herself. Oh you're cute. Dum dum dum. Claudia. Shh. I don't see why humming is worse than talking. Take my word for it. Why? Because I'm old enough to be your mother. You don't look it. There's not one decent magazine to read in this whole waiting room. That's not what you pay for. But the dentist is half of what you pay for. Don't you think this waiting room's kind of dull? It's very neat. It's too neat. It hasn't got any oomph, Claudia. Well, does it? Mrs. Norton? Yes? Dr. Taft is ready for you. Coming, mama. Get along with you. Don't keep Dr. Taft waiting. Follow me, Mrs. Norton. Bye, mama. If you want to become a boy scout, read one of those magazines. It tells you how. Why isn't everything painted white? Looks like the inside of a refrigerator. Go right in, Mrs. Norton. Ahem. Hello. I'm Mrs. Norton. Yes, Mrs. Norton. Please sit down. I'll be with you in a moment. Oh yes, yes. Thank you. I'm just reading over your case history. My case history? I sound like a problem to you. Not at all. As soon as you called for an appointment, I telephoned Dr. Rowland. Had him send up a medical on you. Ah, that was very efficient of you, wasn't it? It's always preferable, when possible, to be informed about the child's background before the child crosses the doctor's threshold. Oh, I like to know my doctor too, so I quite understand. Now let me see. The child is expected... The end of this month. Personally, I think it's going to be June 27th. Mothers are notoriously incorrect about birthdays. Oh, I'm pretty good at hunches. Babies are no longer born on hunches, Mrs. Norton. It's all very methodical. Well, I don't know if my son is going to like being a methodical baby. It will not mind, I assure you. Now, you're expecting to have it born in New York? Yes, it's all been arranged for him that way. And you will return to Eastbrook approximately two weeks afterward? I wish we could hurry things up so we could get back by the Fourth of July. It would be sort of nice to celebrate the Fourth of July in our own house, with our own baby. I don't suppose it's too important. Now, Mrs. Norton, this is the routine I'd like you to observe. I'll keep in touch with Dr. Rowland, but I should like you to call me upon your return. Yes. I'll make a house call to see the child the first week you're back, and thereafter I shall want you to come to my office with it around the first of every month. Hmm, like a bill. On my first house call, I'll examine the child and decide upon the formula for it. Then, according to its weight and eating habits, we shall vary its diet. This all sounds too much like a railroad timetable to me. Strict adherence to rules, cautious observance of a child's idiosyncrasies, watchful eye, and punctuality are the greatest insurance toward the growth of a healthy, normal, well-adjusted child. That doesn't leave much to luck or ancestors, does it? Now, Mrs. Norton, what arrangements have you made for yourself? For me? For your postnatal care. Oh, I'm not going to need any. Your personal physician is in New York? Certainly not. I haven't had one in years. Besides, which I can't go traipsing back and forth into New York for no reason. Health is not no reason. Oh, I've got loads of health, thank you. When I finished having this baby, the only doctors I'll need would be for him. But he'll be healthy, too. I'll have to discuss this with Dr. Rowland. Now, I know several good men here in Bridgeport, which is quite convenient for you. I'll give you their names in case you want to speak to your husband about it. Well, now, Mrs. Norton, I guess that's all we have to discuss. Just one thing while I'm here, Dr. Calf. Yes? My husband has a trick knee. I think he got it in track at college. Your husband? Oh, he's all right. It's just his knee. And you know how men are. He just can't be bothered doing anything about it. Well, I suggest your husband see Dr. A.F. Morrison. He's an orthopedist. Well, that's just the point. My husband won't see anybody. I thought if you could just tell me what to tell him, he should or shouldn't do. I'm afraid that wouldn't be very proper, Mrs. Norton. You just have your husband run in and see Dr. Morrison. I wouldn't dare advise him, particularly sight unseen, as I limit my field rather specifically to children under six. Then you wouldn't be interested in David, certainly. It's been nice meeting you, Mrs. Norton. My regards to Dr. Rowland when you see him. And that's supposed to be pretty soon. Goodbye, Dr. Taff. Come on, Mama, let's go home. Claudia, what's the matter? Nothing, except I feel like a carrot being put through its paces in a model kitchen. What on earth are you talking about? And I'll bet you, Mama, that David won't like being a parsnip. And when tonight he hears that our son is being treated like a mere Brussels sprout, he won't be so happy about that. David, he was wearing a white coat and spectacles, and he had much less hair than you have, except it grew on the back of his hands. And his desk was enormous, and he didn't have a thing on the top. Just like his head. And the walls were painted white, the floors were shiny with linoleum, and the whole place made me feel as if I were a vegetable in a deep freeze. Well, from what you've told me, my little vegetable, he sounds like a very good doctor. Doesn't sound like a doctor at all to me. He's more as if he were going to carve up a white mouse. There's nothing to matter with that. He's probably a very fine scientist to boot. I don't care how fine a doctor or scientist he was, his office was just like a hospital. The more you say, the more I have confidence in this chap. Oh, you... David, he didn't give me any sense of him. What kind of a sense of him did you want him to give you? I don't know. If he were like a father or a brother or even just an uncle. But he wasn't. He was like somebody who's nobody to you at all. Now, look, darling, you've only met him once. Now, give him time. Not everyone gets senses as quickly as you do. I just can't seem to make you understand at all. Why, he even called our son an it! Which is all that he is right now. You certainly made a turnabout face. Nothing of the sort. I merely feel that if Dr. Rowland recommended Dr. Taft, he's probably a very fine child specialist. And if he's cold and scientific, that shouldn't be held against him. You don't choose a doctor because he has very nice brown eyes or because he's fond of dogs. I bet you Dr. Taft wouldn't even touch a dog. I bet you he'd say it was unsanitary. It probably is. You traitor! Look, darling, Dr. Taft is representative of the new modern kind of doctor. Well, I prefer the old-fashioned kind, like strawberry shortcake. Look at all these cards he gave me. A doctor for this, a doctor for that, a doctor for the other thing. It's very modern and practical. How would you like it if you got sick and had to send an arm of yours to one place and a leg to another and your head to someplace else? I probably wouldn't like it at all. No. Though if that's what you did, I probably wouldn't know the difference. Can't you be serious, David? This is important. It's our first doctor. I am serious. All right. It's thumbs down on Dr. Taft without even giving him a chance. I'm afraid so. I'm not going to go to him. All dressed in white like that? He looks like a doctor. Well, he is a doctor. Look, darling, I don't insist on Taft. It's important you like and trust the man, whatever the reason. But we have to find a doctor and in the next few days... I'll find one, a good old-fashioned kind of doctor with smiling lines around his eyes and nice, kind hands. Are you planning just to walk up and down the streets looking for him? There's not that much of a hurry, darling. Maybe there is. We can't estimate what trouble or misfortune life is going to be for all of us, but we can be prepared. Don't talk like that. We've got to. I know. I'll find a doctor, darling. Trust me. All right. Now, how is your knee? Fine, fine. How's yours? Beautiful, but that has nothing to do with it. I saw you limping when you came in, so answer my question. How is your knee? No, my, my limp's much better. Dr. Taft said... Did you discuss my knee with Dr. Taft? Just a little. Just a little? Well, anything wrong with discussing... Your picture is getting clearer. I was perfectly willing to discuss it more, but he wouldn't. He wouldn't have a thing to do with your knee. Why, you... you little bargain hunter. David, what are you talking about? So that's why you didn't like Dr. Taft. I told you already why I didn't like him. Yeah, but it was all clenched because he wouldn't give you any free advice about my, my knee. Robbie Strat has nothing to do with anything. Two... two for the price of one. If you can't get it for a bargain, you're just not interested. You are impossible. I just can't discuss anything seriously with you anymore. You're always accusing me of things. All right, all right, all right, all right, my little bargain hunter. But you're not fooling me for a moment. I'm not. Isn't it too bad you're not having triplets? Huh? Just think, you, me, mama, three triplets, and one doctor. What a buy. Hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm. Genuine hospitality is as rewarding to those who extend it as to those who receive it. In that way, it's much like friendship, but many people work too hard at it. Just as they pursue friendships too hard. The moral of my little tale, as you perhaps suspect, is that hospitality needn't involve effort. In fact, it's better when it doesn't. An ice-cold bottle of Coca-Cola offered with grace says welcome to anyone's satisfaction. And it permits hosts and guests to enjoy the pause that refreshes together. Well, it looks as if we're no nearer to a baby doctor than we were this morning, doesn't it, Mr. King? Claudia doesn't like feeling like a test tube, does she? I never realized it, but my daughter is a perfect pushover for the bedside manner, isn't she? Not so much the bedside manner as the horse and buggy manner, I'd say. She's going to have a mighty difficult job getting that kind of doctor nowadays. Well, if there's a good old-fashioned kind of country doctor around, Claudia will find him. I hope so, but if she does, it'll be more luck than brains. It'll be both. Be around tomorrow, Mrs. Brown. You'll see what I mean. I'll be here. Goodbye, Mr. King. So long, Mrs. Brown. As I was about to say, every day, Monday through Friday, Claudia comes to you transcribed with the best wishes of your friendly neighbor who bottles Coca-Cola. So listen again tomorrow at the same time. And now this is Joe King saying au revoir. And remember, whoever you are, whatever you do, wherever you may be, when you think of refreshment, think of Coca-Cola. For Coca-Cola makes any pause, the pause that refreshes, and ice-cold Coca-Cola is everywhere. This broadcast of Claudia was supervised and directed by William Brown Maloney. And now here's a word from your friendly neighbor who bottles Coca-Cola.