 We could all use coot lessons.Yes, the enigmatic old coot in
every small town like ours has wisdom corralled, knowledge tucked
away for a rainy day, and is especially mysterious. So here are some
coot lessons.
Lesson One: Look colorful. Wear a hat that was found buried at
Gettysburg or Thermopylae. Don't clean it up. Wear boots that aren't
polished with anything not provided by horses and cows. Red
suspenders are called for. Extra points for stains.
Lesson Two: Learn a coot skill. These include whittling, rope
tricks, sharpening pocket knives and sleight of hand. You get extra
points for playing something recognizable on the harmonica. A jaw
harp is good. All you have to do is twang it, because no one can
recognize a tune on it anyway. If you play piano, deduct 10 points.
As to the whittling, you just keep your knife sharp and shave
sticks thinner and thinner. Hold it up to the light and turn it.
Extra points for a notch or two carved in it. Then you hand it to a
kid to keep.
"What is it?" a rude kid might ask.
That's when you screw up your grizzled face, wink at the kid and
say, "I'm sure you must recognize that, kid. You look pretty smart
to me."
And now the all-important Lesson Three: Never let them pin you
down on ideas. Oh, we know they're right. The problem is, some
college-trained punk will pepper us with facts and make us look bad.
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Here's an example of coot tact:
Young punk: "The
world's heading for catastrophe."
Coot: "Son, that's
what they want you to think."
Then snap your red
suspenders and tip him a conspiratorial wink. (Never, upon pain of
root canal, explain who "they" are.)
The word will spread and you will be credited with bringing
civilization to the world, inventing the solenoid, rescuing fair
maidens and discovering fire.
And if you do this long enough, you'll outlive anyone who can
call you a liar.
[Text from file received from Slim Randles]
Brought to you by "Home Country" (the book). See it at
http://nmsantos.com/Books/Home/Home.html.
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