Fishing Trip

My jaw dropped as he said it. "Archie, I want you to go down to Kmart and buy some gold fish." It was snowing outside the Bat Cave. Wm T. and I were roommates in Pontiac. This rather odd arrangement occurred as Hope thought it would be good for the family. Bill and I had just spent the afternoon at the kitchen table discussing "God, & Man & Law" along with a few beers to solidify the mix. The alcohol had convinced me that we had achieved parity. I was only nineteen, but I was paying half the rent and doing the other things dictated for my share.

William T. was taking a drag off his cigarette and glancing at the floor as he inhaled. With rhetorical flourish that continued the speculative nature of our earlier conversations, I said, "What if I don't do it?" Without even looking up, he said in a supremely calm voice, "Honey, I'll dazzle you with footwork." Instantly, my mind reeled back to the proper balance of father and son, and I replied with enthusiasm, "Yes, Sir!" . This predated Nike's famous dictum, "Just do it."