 This started an avalanche of plans among members of the Mule Barn
truck stop's philosophy counter and world dilemma think tank. High
on the list were mentions of showers and haircuts. We also had to
come up with appropriate gifts. Dud had already given Anita a new
chain saw, so that was out, and we decided we'd go see Anita's pal,
Sarah, owner of the Read Me Now Bookstore, for advice.But before we
had a chance to put this into action, Dud came straggling in,
flopped in a chair and uprighted his coffee cup with both hands in
an act of pure desperation.
"What's wrong, Dud?" Doc asked.
"Second thoughts?"
"Oh... no... of course not," he said. "Not about Anita. She's the
greatest. It's just... well, this wedding stuff."
"Stuff?" said Steve, a famous bachelor around here.
"The minutiae?" asked Doc.
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column]
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"Well, no... It's just all this... little stuff. I thought, hey,
you get married and then it's just me and Anita and we are a couple
forever and all that. But this little stuff? How am I supposed to
know what an A-line is, or baby's breath, or whether the organtic
ribbon should be buttercup or skimmed cream or April morning or
jaunty jaundice? Hey, guys, they're all yellow!
"Organtic?" said Steve.
"That might be organdy," said Doc.
"I told Anita, I said, 'Honey, I'd marry you if you were wearing
a gunnysack and hadn't combed your hair.' I would, too. But that's
not the way it is. Oh no. You see, guys... ."
He waved his arms around and then just grabbed his cup of coffee
like a pacifier. He appeared to be temporarily speechless.
"Adrift in a sea of activity, Dud?"
"Hey, I'm as sensitive as the next guy, Doc. It's just all this
little stuff."
[Text from file received from Slim Randles]
Brought to you by all the little stuff at
Slim and Catherine's wedding last month.
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