Chapter 11

Summertime and the living is easy ... unless the Department of the Treasury is after because you rained on their parade.

Fish are jumping..."Let's see your license, boy."

"Don't need one, sir."

"Why not, boy."

"Because boys are exempt."

"You're a man, don't give no shit, boy."

"Can't be a man, sir."

"Why is that, Boy?"

"You've called me boy four times and if you don't know the difference ... OW!"

"I said, don't give me no shit, boy."

"See that man sitting over there? The one with the movie camera and the parabolic microphone? Or ... for that matter, the highway patrolman heading this way?"

"What's he going to do, boy?"

"The highway patrolman is going to arrest you, sir. The cameraman is an officer of the court collecting evidence."

And the cotton is high.

"Mighty fine crop of Merrijawanna, kid."

"Cotton crop, sir."

"That's pot because I said so."

"What are you going to tell the Agriculture professor that's behind you?"

I kept getting in deeper and deeper because it's me that's rich and my wife is good looking ... Why am I crying?