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<p><b>Rule 7: In order that proper techniques be
maintained, upon every carpentry crew there will
always be present an old guy who talks too much.
Sometimes he may be benevolent. He will always be
senile.</b></p>
<p>He was one of those Colorado rednecks with missing
teeth who had spent the last 20 years in the
mountains somewhere living on Budweiser and
venison. Thin and bent, with long, graying hair,
he seemed to have an endless supply of baseball
caps with references to fishing on them. His
favorite story, oft repeated, was how he once
tried to run over three animal rights activists
with his truck. And he would bitterly complain
about his love life. I tried not to imagine the
kind of women involved.</p>
<p>I got stuck installing windows with him on the
second floor. He was on the outside on a ladder,
ranting incoherently. I let go of my side a little
early. I cannot say that it was entirely
unplanned, but somehow he survived. You can't win
'em all.</font> <font face="arial,helvetica"><b><a href="page5.html" onmouseover="window.status='{ continue }';return true" target="main">>>></a></b></p>
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