Steve Horswell
Member
For your reading pleasure. From time to time I will post additional tales...SRH
Tales of The Old Crony---No Friends
There are times I envy people who have lots of friends. You know the type, perhaps you’re one of them. They’re never seen in groups of less than five people or more than nine. Whatever they’re doing, they and their friends all look like they just stepped out of a magazine ad. The vehicles they use for hunting cost more than my house. And the price of their guns would go a long ways towards sending a kid to a good college for a year.
No one would ever mistake me for one of those kinds of people. I don’t have expensive cars for anything, much less to use as a hunting vehicle. And my guns are barely worth their weight in scrap iron. The clothes I wear make me look like a refugee from a Grant Wood painting. More noticeably, I wouldn’t be in any group because I don’t have any friends.
I know I don’t have any friends because, like much of what I’ve learned over the past three decades, my wife tells me so. According to her, people I associate with are cronies. When I check the dictionary, I find that one of the definitions of “crony” is “friend”. However, the inflection she puts into the word makes it sound less than wholesome.
One long-term associate she addresses as “Your Old Hunting Crony” or shortens it to just “The Old Crony” for her convenience. Why she chose to call him “The Old Crony” is subject to much conjecture. Perhaps it’s because he’s somewhat older than I am. Though few people would now describe him as young, she gave him that name many years ago when he was younger than I am now. And I’m certainly not old.
“The Old Crony” and I go way back together, to the days before my marital bliss. Our particular passion has always been waterfowling. In fact, it was because of this shared obsession, that my mother introduced us in the first place. We’ve shared many a blind, boat, and wild goose chase over the years. Now, at the close of another waterfowling season, I reflect upon our shared exploits---The Tales of the Old Crony.
To be continued…
© All rights reserved. Steven R Horswell 2014
Tales of The Old Crony---No Friends
There are times I envy people who have lots of friends. You know the type, perhaps you’re one of them. They’re never seen in groups of less than five people or more than nine. Whatever they’re doing, they and their friends all look like they just stepped out of a magazine ad. The vehicles they use for hunting cost more than my house. And the price of their guns would go a long ways towards sending a kid to a good college for a year.
No one would ever mistake me for one of those kinds of people. I don’t have expensive cars for anything, much less to use as a hunting vehicle. And my guns are barely worth their weight in scrap iron. The clothes I wear make me look like a refugee from a Grant Wood painting. More noticeably, I wouldn’t be in any group because I don’t have any friends.
I know I don’t have any friends because, like much of what I’ve learned over the past three decades, my wife tells me so. According to her, people I associate with are cronies. When I check the dictionary, I find that one of the definitions of “crony” is “friend”. However, the inflection she puts into the word makes it sound less than wholesome.
One long-term associate she addresses as “Your Old Hunting Crony” or shortens it to just “The Old Crony” for her convenience. Why she chose to call him “The Old Crony” is subject to much conjecture. Perhaps it’s because he’s somewhat older than I am. Though few people would now describe him as young, she gave him that name many years ago when he was younger than I am now. And I’m certainly not old.
“The Old Crony” and I go way back together, to the days before my marital bliss. Our particular passion has always been waterfowling. In fact, it was because of this shared obsession, that my mother introduced us in the first place. We’ve shared many a blind, boat, and wild goose chase over the years. Now, at the close of another waterfowling season, I reflect upon our shared exploits---The Tales of the Old Crony.
To be continued…
© All rights reserved. Steven R Horswell 2014
