Home Country – Slim Randles
“Amazing,” Dud said out at the corrals the other day.
Bill and I looked at him a bit strangely, because there were just two horses in the corral and neither one of them had been amazing since Ronald Reagan moved to Washington.
“What’s amazing, Dud?”
“Kids. What they’re doing today is just amazing, compared to what we did as kids.”
“Like those computer game deals?”
“No … not that. I mean … well you just take that nephew of mine … my sister’s boy. He does five hours of homework every night. In high school. Did you ever do five hours of homework in high school?”
“Sure,” I said, “but it took me the best part of a month.”
“That’s what I mean. These kids today are just smarter than we were and they work harder, and you know, they seem to know what they want to do.”
Dud whistled in appreciation of his own words as he shook his head in wonder.
“My grandson’s like that,” Bill said. “Smart as a whip. He’s only seven, you know. He and I went for a walk the other day to appreciate springtime. I asked him what he was studying these days and he said he knew all about birds. Told me he knew the name of every bird in the forest. Every one.
“Well, I thought I’d test him, so I pointed to a grackle and said, ‘Tell me the name of that bird right there.’ He looked at it carefully and then brightened up. Then he said, ‘Why, Grandpa, that’s Fred. Hi Fred … how you doing?’
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