My Wednesday's guest is Slim Randles again, and I want to thank him for so generously sharing his columns with us. I always enjoy the guys at the Mule Barn truck stop, and they sure do have a way with words. If you enjoy them, too, you will like Slim's book, Home Country, a terrific collection of these columns. While Slim is entertaining us here, I'm over at The Blood Red Pencil, having some fun for Hump Day.
“Sanctimonious siphons, it’s hot!” said Dud,
sitting at the philosophy counter and turning over his coffee cup for action
with a single smooth move. Dud is a
regular at the Mule Barn truck stop’s legendary world dilemma think tank.
“Epithet time again, Dudley?” said Doc.
“Epithets and heat time, Doc. When that heat
comes along, the only thing that can really change an attitude is a properly
tuned epithet. It’s man’s emotional release valve, but of course you know that,
being a doctor and all.”
These aren't the guys, but they could be, couldn't they? They have the look. |
Dud doctored his coffee and took a sip.
“Right?”
“Oh …” said Doc, “right … of course. We took
Epithets 1A and 1B in medical school, naturally. ‘Emotional release valves and
their perfection’ they were called. I got an A in Epithetology for the Masses in
my third year, too.”
“You’re just putting me on.”
“Maybe.”
“Let’s look for a moment,” chimed in Bert,
“at why epithets are so good for the soul.”
“He’s going to wave his arms again,”
whispered Doc to Dud.
“I’m
afraid so…”
“Yes,” said Bert, “epithets, particularly
those where no swearing is involved, are like a frustrated man’s crossword
puzzle. They bring out enough cleverness and creativity in a man to pour salve
on whatever it is that’s bugging the bejeesus out of him.”
“I know I feel better with salve poured on my
bejeesus,” said Doc, nodding.
“First thing I do in the morning, after
coffee,” said Dud.
“Well, here comes Steve,” Doc said, as all
eyes turned to the cowboy who looked wise, in the way a caffeine-starved owl
looks wise. “He’ll pour some salve and sense on this entire situation.
“Mornin’ Steve,” said Dud. “What’s going on?”
“Bilious blasphemers, it’s hot today!” said
Steve.
The groaning continued, off and on, through
the toast course.
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