"Who?"
"Dave Aronson. There's a guy who did everything right. Like my coming along when you needed a cab. It would have happened like that to Dave."
"There are always a few clouds over everybody," says Morris.
"Not Dave. He was a terrific athlete. He could have gone on the pro tour in tennis. He could golf with the pros. He sang like an opera baritone and danced like a Broadway star."
"He was something, huh?"
"He had a memory like a trap. Could remember everybody's birthday. He knew all about wine, which fork to eat with. He could fix anything. Not like me. I change a fuse, and I black out the whole neighborhood."
"No wonder you remember him."
"Well, I never actually met Dave."
"Then how do you know so much about him?" asks Morris.
"Because I married his widow."
So I understand the fix a local hunting guide got himself into. His party became hopelessly lost in the mountains and they blamed him for leading them astray. "You told us you were the best guide in Colorado!" they asserted.
"I am," he said, "but I think we're in Wyoming now."
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"Whenever I sit down to a meal, I always make a point to leave just four inches between my stummick and the edge of the table. When I can feel 'em rubbin' together pretty hard, I know I've had enough""Diamond Jim" Brady.