Like Man, Somebody Dig Me

So spent. And the producer of CBS Radio is outstanding. The editor of Thrills, the master of mystery and adventure, William M. Robeson. They call themselves the beat generation by which they do not mean defeated.

They mean beatific, which is to say, blipful. They're cool, man. They're way out there. They dig jazz which has no melody and poetry which makes no sense. At least for the rest of us squares.

They're kids seeking an answer. And to the beat generation, the answer seems to be found in inaction, in non-feeling. They couldn't care less. But face a beat cat with reality, facing with murder, and what happened?

Listen, listen, then, as Dennis Day stars in, Like Man Somebody Dig Me, which follows just the moment. Like Man So Calculated To Keep You In. Man, like crazy. Man, I dig everything. I dig Zen and underarm deodorant. I dig Elvis Presley and Sputnik. They even dig people that drive right on by when I'm hitchhiking. People

call me the tennis shoe. Because I wear them and because I'm over on the move. But mostly because I'm cool, man. I could stand out here in the middle of this desert all day. And you know something? It wouldn't bother me. You want to live? Hey, I'm with you, You're going to California?

Like I wrote a poem, man. I want to read it to the Pacific Ocean. The Pacific Ocean? Well, I already read it to the Atlantic. Well, if you read it to the Atlantic, why bother to read it to the Pacific?

Man, have you ever read a poem to the Atlantic in January? Well, no, I... Oh, man. We almost didn't start. I'm not sure. Oh, man. We almost didn't stop for you. You know, most people won't take a chance on hitchhikers these days.