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It's that damn Cuban, we were fine and dandy till he showed up. It ain't been the same since and it never will be like it was, Deads. He put the stopper in our bottle (we won that last back-to-back and he then took a rubber mallet and hammered that stopper down lock tight.) We had it all. A ring was always either very possible OR imminent, like clockwork. Now we're down with the dregs, with everybody else. Once you get used to being above the fray it's difficult from then on in to be dropped into same fray. I feel dirty and I don't like being around them. It's that same adage I've fightin' since puberty..."Things change, Dale, honey, nothing stays the same. You need to learn that, angel."
"Okay, ma."
...then I go to my room, have a good cry and testify to myself..."Bull ! I'll make it stay the same." 60+ years later? "Things change, Dale, won't you ever learn that, sweetheart? I'll make you cornbread, okay hon. That'll make ya feel better."
Okay, Girl. I appreciate it. And I won't complain about things changing anymore."
Come in here where you guys "are"...check the doorway and then vow in a whisper. "Bull ! I'm stoppin' that clock if it's the last thing I do on earth."...then lift my voice to the kitchen area..."What time do you think my cornbread will be ready, angel? And don't burn it. Love you."
Then to this CPU screen. "I wonder if I have a stick of Land O Lakes Butter ready in there, Dale?"
"Oh, puddin'head!"
