Thursday, January 23, 2014
It was going to be quite an experience. Me and my buddies Lewis, Ed, and Bobby were going to canoe down a river in a remote area of Georgia. Our spirits were high as we stopped at a couple of wilderness shacks that provided supplies for the trip.
As we were packing up, I spotted a young blond boy on the porch of one of the shacks. He was odd looking and expressionless but he was picking on an old banjo. I pulled out my guitar and began to play.
It was awkward at first but he slowly began playing in response. Then we were both playing together. Then he cut loose and matched me move for move! And folks there were smiling and dancing.
We finished up and I went to shake his hand. Would he pull away? Was he an inbred? Did he trust me?
"I graciously thank you for extending your hand in fellowship," he said, "and for the opportunity to enjoy together such felicitous musicianship."
A genius savant. You don't see one of those every day.
I know what you're going to say: I got a real purty mouth! Well, yes I do, so I'm not gonna canoe down any ... wait, what? I don't have a purty mouth? I'd be safe going down any river in the country?
Well! Why don't you just move on to the other Friday Fictioneers then and check out their mouths? And read their stories as well.
I'm outta here with a banjo on my knee. Oh, great! I got this lousy looking mouth and now a banjo stuck to my knee. I can't remove it! Looks like no singles bars for me tonight ...