We sipped and saw. Yep. Windy Wilson, cowboy camp cook, approaching the philosophy and coffee counter at the Mule Barn. But what are you gonna do?

“Ya know, fellas,” he said, “I believe in them childhood dreams and all. With me, my kid dream was to travel to the darkest corner of Equilateral Africa and look at the varmints. They got a bunch of ‘em down there. Some are kinda pretty and others can stomp you into furry pink Jell-O.

“Wellsir, I got to figgerin’ just how I could swing a trip over there to them Serum 

-getty Plains and all, and listen to monkeys watch cheaters chase down them grazelles. So, I thought I kinda should practice up a bit in case I got the chance, so I sprung it on my fellow students in the second grade. You know, with that show and tell thingie. Most folks don’t get to do that ‘til they’re already in Congress, but I stood up and tol’ them ‘bout my pet hipplo-potamus in the backyard. Called him Fluffy.   Hey, I told ‘em story after story ‘bout ol’ Fluff. You know the stuff … how ol’ Fluffy bit me one morning when I was a-saddlin’ him up. Stuff like that there.

“Now truth was, I didn’t happen to have ol’ Fluffy in the backyard, but I sure as sugar wished I had, and I guess that transmaterialated itself to the audience.  Teacher called my mom just to check about Fluffy, though, so I musta told a good one. Yessir!

“Never did get to darkest Africa and stuff, but I studied on it. Seems the onliest folks in them days who got over there was missionarities. Them missionarity types, turns out, was s’posed to gather folks together and tell ‘em their ‘speriences and ‘splain how to live more gooder lives and that. And I jest couldn’t see my ownself doin’ that. Nossir!”

We just nodded. It’s quicker that way.