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• Wednesday, July 12, 2006 03:55 AM

  ahhh...you reach the souls of tattered men

  Once again, you've connected the jumper cables to me. Had to laugh, at 53 sitting in a bar with my wife and a few of her lady friends, a young buck comes up to hit on one of them. These are ladies learned in ways of the world and handling themselves in such situations. I ignored the man and continued my conversation.

  The next thing I know, he is insulting one of the ladies an she is crying. I slap my hand on the bar, rise from my stool to somewhere between his navel and chin and demand he and I settle this matter for her honor. He is amused, but I am in that one too many frame of mind where all is cloaked in a comfortable haze, and I challenge him again. His arms are the size of my thighs. I berate, blow the proverbial cigar smoke in his face and indicate he might be less than manly in every possible way. He backs down.

  Alcohol and bravado racing through my veins, I puff up my 5'4" frame and continue my verbal assault with threats of physical harm if he so much as looks at the kind lady again. He head is screaming for me to shut up, the rest of me continues to press forward to save her honor or redeem what really may be my own lost honor for not living life as I had planned.

  My wife has be by the collar and pulls me from the bar, prbably saving my life, as I shake my fist and let him know I'lll be back.

  Living on the edge has it's advantages. Light a Macanudo and gie it a go.

  —alc Read alc's other letters
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