by Slim Randles
When Windy Wilson joined us for coffee down at the Mule Barn coffee shop, we smiled. Windy doesn’t show up for too many of the b.s. coordinations and we think it’s because he doesn’t like the competition.
“You boys seen that sun this mornin’?”
“Sure did, Windy,” said Doc. “Looked about like the one we had yesterday.”
“See, that’s just my point. You heard on the radio ‘bout that climatic change stuff, right?”
“Right.”
“Well, you remember ‘way back to July last year? I shore do. Hotter’n a chile pepper on a campfire, it was. So what we got now? Hey, it’s still a-boilin’ hot out there. Oughta be somethin’ we could do ‘bout it.”
“Don’t get ya, Windy,” said Steve. “Like what would you do?”
“Maybe sue ‘em,” Windy said.
“Who?”
“Why, those lyin’ snakes that opportuned us to ‘spect cooler weather. What’s the sense in havin’ another hot summer if we are supposed to climatohoosically change? Ain’t right.”
Loretta refilled the coffees. We all took a grateful sip.
“You might have a hard time finding someone who is responsible for the weather, Windy.”
“I know it, Doc. But hey, I’ll prepostterate to you guys right now, I’m ready for that change to cooler days.”
“You just have to wait a little longer, Windy,” Steve said. “ ‘Til about September, I think.”
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