Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Hank and Shorty

We are listening to a book on CD about a 12-year-old boy detective who attempts to collect information at a seedy bar down by the docks. He has donned, as a disguise, a French sailor costume (bell bottom pants, striped shirt, jacket, scarf, and sailor hat) and a fake mustache; he sits down at the bar and orders a milk. The bartender eyes him and says, "You're pretty short for a sailor." The boy replies, "That's why they call me Shorty."

"Shorty!" Dan scoffs, "That's not a sailor's nickname."

The bartender gives the boy another suspicious look, accuses him of being that kid detective folks have been talking about, and kicks him out almost immediately thereafter.

"Well, of course the bartender got suspicious," says my little know-it-all, "No sailor is named Shorty."

"Really? You think so?" I am not convinced a) that this was the big giveaway clue and b) that Dan's nickname theory makes sense.

"Of course! Shorty is a cowboy nickname. "

"Oh. Well, I guess maybe you're right about that."

"Yeah. And Hank. That's a cowboy name, too."

I can't argue with that, not that it has anything to do with the detective.

If we ever get a pair of cats (or fish or guinea pigs), I am going to name them Hank and Shorty.

Hank Williams

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