by Slim Randles
There’s nothing like New Year’s Resolution to make a guy feel completely inadequate, thought Doc as he sat and sipped coffee at the philosophy counter of the Mule Barn truck stop’s coffee shop. In other words, thinking central.
He happened to mention this to Steve, sitting on his left. Steve shoved his hat back and looked at his dear friend.
“Now Doc,” he said, “I don’t think you should talk that way. You see, the guys and I think you’re about the most adequate fella we know. Why, some of us are still here because of your adequacy. I know I am.”
Nods down the counter. “Me, too,” said Herb.
“Thanks, guys,” said Doc, “but that’s not the kind of adequacy I meant. For example, you boys know about my grapevines and how I make a couple of bottles of wine out of the grapes each year, right?”
They nodded, and Herb almost choked on his coffee.
“And you know the wine is never quite … adequate. I believe Steve here told me it could take the chrome off his trailer hitch.”
More nods.
“That’s the kind of thing I’d like to be more adequate at in the coming year.”
Herb said, “Know what you mean, Doc. Thought I’d like to resolve to improve my golf game this year.”
“I didn’t know you played golf, Herb.”
“I don’t. That’s why I’d like to be more … adequate at it. Might even buy some clubs.”
“You know,” said Doc, “Sounds to me like a good plan.”
