The Neverwas Nonesuch Angling Society has 100 members and 1 employee, which in itself could explain my desire for an occasional snootful. Sometimes, though, it seems the issue is not as much that I partake of volatile spirits from time to time but rather the company in which I do so. Why, just the other day, someone asked me, “Gil, why the heck do you hang out with that bunch of drunken ruffians?”
My interrogator was Dr. Calvin Butz, and the drunken ruffians in question were my friends Milt, Wally and Stinky, whose combined age is 274.
“Because I like old-timers, I guess. Why do you ask, Calvin?”
“Call me Cal. I think they are rude, offensive, and downright dangerous, that’s why.”
“They’re not so bad, Calvin. Come on, they’re old, give ’em a break. Besides, Wally’s pretty upset.”
“That may be, but he doesn’t have to take it out on me! What’s he so upset about, anyway?”
“Well, for starters, some Nazi shot a tank out from under him once. Need more?” Continue reading