Well, hell. I scanned my back posts and some notes today (shows what can happen when you pay attention). I received a shock. An un-looked for visitor, and totally had to pause and re-read it twice. Well, maybe a couple more than that. Greetings. Thank you.___ Before attempting the Stop Sign: Poker. I am still trying to "do something" with the penny pokes. Modest success. Both sites creep in the dime/quarter levels. I think I will get one of those small beginners chem sets and mix up something to put on a Voo -Do dolls with the sites names. If nothing else, sticking a match to them will be much hotter than the hands I have been playing (Maybe. After all it would be a beginners Chem set.).___ Anyway, Aye had me telling about the town and roads and road conditions and I threw in my two cents about hydroplanning and we left the story teller himself holding his tongue, thoughts and that cup of coffee at a cafe in that railroad, farm, ranch, bar-type town -- somewhere, I presume, in anywhere the USA. Our friend resumes his story. I live around the corner from the Lady, that is just South and East of her and as a neighbor, she calls me when she needs some immediate help. That puts us about five miles outa town, in case you were trying to work it around in your head. Now, down the years, since her husband died, she has called me about once a month -- maybe less in the winter. 'Course, that's when I worry about her the most, don't you know. . . . Aw, well, she calls, like I say, and mostly what she needs is help fixin' the gate to the feed/water lot. Have you ever been around a cattle water/feed point in the summer, just after a rain? I mean, if you have, think on it. If you haven't, well, sir, don't dwell on it long, after you think about it. It is a dead straight road from town to the gate, not a curve and one bridge, the only hump in the whole damn thing. And depending on how fast you drive, it can be one can of beer from the bar in town to the gate. Possibly, two, if you're having a spot of trouble seeing. It would be terribly charitable to say drivers miss the turn once in a while. Most times they are so damn drunk they can't even see the turn and they go sailing across the road and through the gate and out into that pasture, almost to the water tank. Through the years we have tried wire gate, wood gates and metal gates -- those last are kinda expensive. And those wood ones!! Why I've picked up pieces at my place, three quarters a mile away. Well, not really. But, you get the picture. I remember the time I was better than ankle deep in that muck tying to a four-wheel stuck in it, it was raining. As I was tying to the tractor I looked up and here's the owner, with both hands fisted in his Levi's and pulling them above the slop, telling me to be careful doing that as that was a new paint job and he didn't want me to ruin it.___ Aye said "the lot of the listeners sat there still as church mice. One kinda pushed the salt shaker around a bit. Another, looked over at the Teller, opened his mouth and shut it, again. They waited."___ Presently the Teller looked up and said; Look, I have tried for years, and years, to have something done at that corner. I've talked to folks around the county, I've talked to the court house and I've talked to the roads people. Nothing. No signs, no -- I don't know, you know. I mean you can't grade the road different, you can't really change the road. If you make the Lady take out the gate and open the barr ditch, you create a hazzard (Well, more so.).___ "It was about that time," Aye said, "that one of the others piped up." "This guy said that the elected official in charge of the department dealing with that particular road and intersection had been there for twenty odd years, and the entire county business as commissioner."___ Aye indicated that one must understand a little about country people. "They have a pecking order as ridiged as any you will ever find in a city or big corporation." "Oh, they might deny it. Them that stand there looking at you. Actually, they would probably think you crazy, but if you LOOK, you'll see it." "And, if you're local and raised so, God forgive you for violating, IT, the code." "Our Teller, Aye said, "in opposition to the Listeners, was dressed in starched, pressed short sleeve, collared, Western cut shirt, with pressed Levi's, large buckled belt." "His face was smooth, considering the age there, and the eyes, mild. But, you could feel the iron underneath, though you didn't get the feeling of high quality in it, and he was dealing with a table of the T-Shirt, missed matched coats and dirty ball cap, over-all wearing, bunch." ("I hasten to add', said Aye, "I failed to match up well, myself.")___ Lord, help me. I busted out laughing. "C'mon, Aye, make it march." "An irritated expression flickered across his face," and; He said, "You're always gripping about "incomplete" information. I'm just trying to give you enough information to tell a decent story." "It is important to know that our Teller has an expressive face," Aye explained, "because the Tell on the Teller is what makes the story interesting in the end." "To you, " I said. "But this story is getting rather long, Aye, and my readers are busy people." "So, that's not my problem. You're the story writer. Make it the way you want. As long as you tell the story RIGHT." He declared. "I sighed." I sighed. "Okay." (To Be Continued.... . )___ Aces to you.

Source: Poker Solstice