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 “Business has been kinda slow for a while now, and it’s wedding
season,” he said.
Marvin Pincus’s “business” of course, is free love counseling
combined with free fly tying, in hopes of bringing connubial
jocularity to anyone who might need it. Hey, a retired guy has to do
something.
But just at that moment there was a knock on the door, and standing
there was Three-Chord Cortez. T.C. looked anxiously up and down the
street. It wouldn’t look good for the fabled bunkhouse balladeer to
be seen applying for love counseling.
Marvin took T.C. into his den and Marjorie brought the embarrassed
cowhand some coffee. When the door had been safely closed, Cortez
looked at Marvin.
“Mr. Pincus,” he said, “you may not know it, but I kinda have a
reputation for being a ladies’ man.” Marvin nodded. “But … I guess I
do okay … but sometimes I just feel … used … you know?” Marvin
nodded again. “These women today just seem to have …” he looked
around and whispered, “one thing on their minds. I’d like to find a
woman who likes me for who I am … inside, you know?” Marvin nodded.
“I mean, I can serenade their socks off and have plenty of dates,
but it’s just a hot Saturday night kinda life.”
Marvin smiled. “T.C., I know what you mean. I’ve heard about your
success serenading the girls, but I can see you may be ready to …
shall we say … settle down?”
Three-Chord (named for his semi-skill at guitar picking) nodded.
“OK, so let’s get to work.”
[to top of second
column] |
Marvin put a big number two salmon streamer
hook in the fly vise, and Cortez stood and watched him. Marvin’s
skilled hands soon tied a weighted solid-black stonefly nymph and
handed it to T.C..
“Substantial and solid,” Marvin said, “without all the gaudiness of
a salmon streamer. It will bring out the real you, T.C..”
“Thank you, sir,” Cortez said.
“And T.C.? I want you to not even kiss a girl until after the third
date. Let her get to know you.”
The long-riding lothario’s mouth dropped open, showing the pearly
white teeth that had melted so many hearts.
“Is that even possible, Mr. Pincus?”
“Work on it, my boy. Work on it.”
[Text from file received from
Slim Randles]
Brought to you by the brand-new internet radio program “The Home
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