One Man's Art is Another Man's...

Please help me welcome Slim Randles as Wednesday's Guest this week. I laughed when I read this story from the Mule Barn truck stop. Dud's decision to switch from writing reminded me of the college professor who suggested I take up basket weaving as a creative outlet and forget about being a writer. He was not impressed with my work. However, I am quite impressed with Slim's work. He always brings a smile. This morning I have coffee and shortbread cookies for all. Enjoy.... 

Photo courtesy of The Comfort of Cooking - check the site for the recipe

If you ask Dud Campbell, it’s all right to take a break from the arts now and then. Well …  since the arts are a part of a person, that’s not quite right. All right, it’s okay to switch arts now and then. Dud had pretty much beaten himself to death trying to fathom what to do in the novel about the duchess and truck driver, and it had left him gasping for ideas.

So he went back heavily to his accordion.

From the early lessons of squeaking and squawking and driving most of the cockroaches out of the neighborhood, Dud’s playing had progressed to the point where people actually smiled when they discussed it.

When the cold weather hit, Dud would hurry home from work and pick up the squeeze box and work diligently on it. Polkas and waltzes, primarily. A few of the easier Cajun tunes, too. He concentrated on those left-hand exercises, of course, where hitting the exact right little black bass button every time is a challenge known by all stomach Steinway artistes.

He had told the guys down at the world dilemma think tank (aka the philosophy counter at the Mule Barn truck stop) that he was ready to go out that weekend and squeeze out some money at a local night spot with his music.

Monday morning, Dud pulled in to the counter and flipped his cup back to the upright and fillable position.

“Well?” said Doc.

“Well what?”

“How did it go? The music. The accordion. Lady of Spain out on the town. You know?”

Dud just shrugged and threw some sugar into the coffee.

“Did you make money playing your accordion?” Steve asked.

“Yes,” Dud said, glumly.

“So it was a success, right?”

“Well, not … entirely.”

“Why not?”

“Went down to the Covered Wagon Saturday night. They had a good crowd in there. Played some waltzes and a few polkas to get the crowd warmed up. You know Bill? The owner?”

We nodded.

“He gave me $20 to go play somewhere else.”

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If you like what Slim shares here, you would enjoy his books. Check out his author page on Amazon if you have a moment. His books are a delight. 

Slim has sponsors for all of his columns, and this month it is Beltone Hearing Aids,  so we do have to do this little ad: 
How do you control your feet if you can’t even hear the beat? The hearing test is free. Beltone.  1-866-867-8700.

Don't Get Lost

Humorist Slim Randles is back with another story from his syndicated column, Home Country. While I always highlight the funny side of his writing, he has also got a special way with the poetic and poignant and there is some of that mixed in with the humor in his books. I especially liked Sun Dog Days. A story of two friends and a special journey they take. 

It's very cold here this morning in East Texas, so I am having hot chocolate. Grab yourself a cup to sip while you enjoy Slim's story.

Courtesy of the Hot Chocolate Website

I was invited recently to join Bob Milford, manager of the prestigious Diamond W Ranch, on a drive-around tour of the place. It’s a huge, private ranch, with tiny ex-logging roads winding around through 13,000 acres of pine trees and rocks. A real paradise.

But I was horrified to see wooden street signs nailed to trees wherever two of these old logging trails came together.

“Oh no,” I said, out loud.

“What’s the matter?” Bob asked.

“I see you’re planning a subdivision here.”

Courtesy of the PSD Website

Bob started laughing when I pointed at the signs. “Those are for the owners,” he explained. “They live Back East and visit here one weekend a year. When they get out here, they take the pickup and drive around and get lost.

“Once I got a call on the cell phone from the owner, who said he was lost and couldn’t find his way back to the house. So I asked him where he was and he said he was right there, sitting on a rock and close to a pine tree.”

He chuckled. “That narrowed it down to about 13,000 acres. Well, I managed to find him, and after that, I put these signs up. I tell them now, if they get lost, to drive until they come to Home Road and then head downhill. It solved the problem.”       
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If you like what Slim shares here, you would enjoy his books. Check out his author page on Amazon if you have a moment. His books are a delight. 

Slim has sponsors for all of his columns, and this month it is Beltone Hearing Aids,  so we do have to do this little ad: Give the gift of hearing this Christmas. Start your loved one off with a free hearing test at BELTONE. Call 1-866-867-8700.

Having a Bit of Fun

Back again as today's Wednesday's Guest, Slim Randles who is sharing some fun with the guys down at the Mule Barn truck stop. Sometimes I think they live on another planet, but they always make me smile. Enjoy. Maybe they'll share some of that sourdough toast. My mouth is watering just looking at it.

 The morning conference began innocently enough, with Steve and Doc arguing over which of the little packaged jellies went better on sourdough toast, and no one caring which one was right.

Dud and Bert and I sat silently, sucking down the morning elixir until it spread life to our outermost reaches as the Mule Barn truck stop’s world dilemma think tank crept to life. Bert was unusually quiet this morning and we asked why. He hemmed and hawed a little, then said, “Doc, you know about these things. What exactly is female trouble?”

Oh shoot. Pretty heavy stuff for just two cups of coffee, so the rest of us hurried down a third as Doc puffed up a bit and got ready.

“Sure, Bert,” Doc said kindly. Then Doc gave us the best his nine years of college and 50 years of medical practice had blessed him with. He waxed eloquent on hormonal elements, the ebb and flow of female fertility, things that could go wrong with tubular parts, and the effect all of these things could have on the attitudinal proclivities of the dear ladies we all love and admire. He took a break while Mavis returned with more coffee and with strange looks at our faces while we tried not to stare at her.

Then she was gone, and Doc began again. Finally, when we had been pretty well checked out on the mysterious workings of the gentle gender, Doc said, “Bert, if your wife is having some problems, have her give me a call.”

“Oh, it ain’t her, Doc,” Bert said. “It’s Dud.”

We all looked at Dud. He grinned sheepishly. No one wanted to say anything. Finally, Steve said, “I’m not going to be the one to ask.”

“That’s what you said, Dud, right?” Bert asked. “That’s why Saturday’s plans are shot.”

“Female trouble?” Doc said, looking at his old friend.

Dud nodded. “Anita won’t let me go fishing this weekend.”
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If you like what Slim shares here, you would enjoy his books. Check out his author page on Amazon if you have a moment. His books are a delight. 

Slim has sponsors for all of his columns, and this month it is Beltone Hearing Aids,  so we do have to do this little ad: Give the gift of hearing this Christmas. Start your loved one off with a free hearing test at BELTONE. Call 1-866-867-8700.

Pass The Salt

Slim Randles and the gang down at the Mule Barn Think Tank are today's Wednesday Guests. Pull up a chair, grab a cup of java and have a little fun. This is another of the delightful columns that are syndicated in hundreds of newspapers across the country and compiled into the book Home Country. Enjoy...

It was a bright morning, and we had finished off the coffee and conversation at the Mule Barn truck stop, and we couldn’t think of anything much to do because we were still full from breakfast and it was too early for lunch, and the political problems and Hollywood gossip tanks had been thoroughly topped off. So we went over to Doc’s house to look at his mare in the back yard. She had, he said, a quarter crack in a front hoof.

 So there we were, in a half circle around the little mare, staring at that slight crack as though focusing would bring a welded solution to the problem, but we all knew we just needed to drink Doc’s coffee and change the scene.

“I see you have a block of salt,” Bert said.

Doc nodded. Bert said, “Speaking of salt …”

We really hadn’t been, but smooth transitions aren’t always easy.

“…. puts me in mind of the time I stopped in that little store,” Bert said. “Few years back now, I guess.

Well, it was about the last time Milly had pups, because I think I’d left her home to have them. Of course, she waited until I got home ….”

Doc and Steve stared at him encouragingly. “And?”

“Oh … well, there’s this little store up north … out in the middle of about flat nothing … and it was hot and I was thinking of a nice cold cola right about then, so I stopped.”

Bert looked around. “Dang store was about full of salt.”

“Salt?”

“Everywhere. This guy had ice cream salt. Bags of it. Salt blocks for horses, sheep, cows, rabbits and even danged guinea pigs. He had regular salt. He had huge bags of bulk salt for putting on the ice.

Salt block for livestock. No, that is not a cat underneath.

 “So I went to pay for my drink and I says to the guy, ‘You must sell a lot of salt.’ And he says to me, ‘No, but that salesman who calls on me sure does.’”

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Slim always has a sponsor for his columns and today's sponsor is BELTONE , a leading company that provides hearing aids. Do you miss hearing rain on the roof? Is it time for a free hearing test? Call 1-866-867-8700.