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 Now
I’m not sayin’ that comin’ down with that Lombardo in my back was a
good thing … nossir. Hurtin’ like that can’t hardly ever be good,
‘course, but every white cloud has a silver linin’ as they do say.
Alphonse Wilson here, with another life lesson to be disgruntlified
whenever you get around to it. And there’s never any charge for
these lessons unless you don’t believe me. If that happens, send me
a dollar.
Wellsir, I think getting’ that Lombardo musta happened back when I
was hayin’. See, we used to bale alfalfa up in 300-pound bales and
we didn’t have them lifter thingies like they do now, so we had to
pick ‘em up and toss ‘em on the flatbed wagon, yes we did. ‘Course
they don’t do that anymore ‘cause ranch hands just ain’t as strong
or fortifried as we were back then.
So now they got machines that do the work. And the bales are now
these little two-string things that a child can manhandleize. Now
that Lombardo don’t just kick in automatical. Nossir. Has to kinda
build up speed you see. First there’s a little twingie of something
back there, like a wink in your muscles. Least that’s how it
happened with me. Then, after hayin’ with the twingie for a while,
you come up on somethin’ more serious, like a stretchie, where you
gotta stretch your back … well, you know. [to top of second
column] |
And then one day, the whole
Lombardo comes crashin’ in on you and you can’t throw bales around
anymore, and you’re forced to drive the tractor and sip coffee.
From then on, the other guys got all the glory, but hey, ol’ Windy
held up under the shame all right.
And that Lombardo turned out to be a pretty good weather
prestidigitalis, too. You know it’s goin’ to rain tomorrow, right?
Hey, I know there ain’t a cloud in the sky, but my back hurts. Yep,
even sittin’ here on the porch it’s shapin’ up to be a regular
Lombardo attack. So I know it’s going to rain tomorrow. And that’s
what the guy on the radio said, too.
[Text from file received from
Slim Randles]
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