Hazel is a one-woman cautionary tale, an average American in an age when “average” has come to mean “stupid.” She does not need a radio permanently affixed to her ear, as George does, because she was never capable of sustained thought. Hazel applauds those who are as incapable as she is, cheering on the unimpressive ballerinas and praising the pathetic performance of the announcer who cannot overcome his speech impediment. Hazel is a dim bulb, but she is also kind. She worries about George and suggests that he remove a few of his weights while he is at home, and she weeps over her son, although she cannot keep him in mind for more than a few seconds at a time. But Hazel is a cautionary tale precisely because her kindness makes no difference. Her stupidity overwhelms her good nature, preventing her from recognizing the absurdity of her society, let alone doing anything to change it.