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Slim Randles
It was Windy Wilson’s turn, unofficially, of course, to pick a coffee counter topic of learned truth and everlasting beauty. We sorta took turns without keeping score.
“Ya know,” said the old camp cook, “Been thinkin’.”
We gave him a second or two. Didn’t work.
“About what, Windy?” said Doc.
“’bout leisuractuvely activities. You know, what to do when you ain’tdoin’ nothin’ else.”
We grinned and sipped. Good topic, Windy. This works.
“I like to read catalogs,” said Herb. “You can get all kinds of ideas in them. Don’t much care, really, what kind of catalogs, either. So what if I don’t know a thing about wrist watches? I can always learn.”
“With me,” said Doc, “it’s fly fishing. When I’ve had a hard day with lots of patients, I just want to go down to Lewis Creek and whip the surface film into a froth. Doesn’t even matter if I catch anything or not.”
“I hear ya,” said Dud. “It’s a little different with me. Working on writing that mystery (“Murder in the Soggy Bottoms”) takes it outa me, you know? So I like to spend my leisure time reading things other guys wrote. After about an hour of reading what some other poor soul suffered through, I’m ready to go fishing with Doc.”
Doc looked over at Windy, who had initiated this topic, but strangely seemed content to sit there and listen to the leisurely ideas of others.
“What about you, Windy? How do you unwind?”
“Well, Doc, glad you asked. Them kids was on their way home from school jest t’other day and I come crost ‘em when they wasn’tpayin’ too much tension. And I could see they hadn’t figured out anythin’ leisure, you know? So I told ‘em ‘bout my sure-fire way to relax. What I do is set down on the front porch and think about fun stuff while I pick scabs off the neighbor’s dog.”
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