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Old men and bar fights
Maybe the moral of the story is that you had better not try to help an old man in case he falls from a stool, especially in a barroom. Another thing, it proves that people aren't always helpless even when they've had a lot of birthdays. There are lots of old people who resent younger people trying to help them in any way. They don't like for you to help them out of chairs or up steps or across the street. Some of 'em will tell you so mighty quick while others will kind of brush you back, politely but firmly. Maybe I'll feel differently when I'm 79, but right now I think I would rather like being helped. Like it is, I'm at the "awkward stage" in life. I'm often too tired to get up for a drink of water but I'm not old enough to ask somebody to bring it to me. Sometimes, after sitting in one position for an hour or two, it puts me in a powerful strain to get up, but nobody would ever think of helping me on account of I'm not quite old enough. Maybe if I can make it a few more years I'll get a little sympathy. People might even offer to tote my gun when I'm in the woods hunting, which would sure be nice. I'd let 'em tote it, too. What to Do Of course, we deplore barroom fighting, on account of most anybody can get hurt, especially innocent bystanders. In fact, it's the worst place in the world for an innocent bystander to be. Everybody starts hitting the fellow nearest to him, whether he's in the fight or not. What you do when a fight breaks out is to grab a long, black beer bottle and when you catch somebody looking the other way, you let him have it. Right about that time somebody is going to catch you looking the other way and you're going to get one busted over your head too. Old, experienced barroom fighters always rush to a corner the minute a fight breaks out, but this method affords safety to only four people as there are only four corners. Back in my drinking days I discovered that strong drink affected people three different ways. Some people, when they get too much to drink, want to fight. Others love everybody and they'll often break down and cry telling their friends or anybody else, how much they love 'em. Others want to sing. This is the worst type, and I always tried to avoid this group. I didn't mind fighting a little and I could put up with a fellow telling me how much he likes me and what a fine fellow I was, but I never could stand a drunk trying to sing. It's something awful. They kind of warble like, and they inject a few vocal tears into songs about Mothers, Old Pals of Mine and I'll Be Carried to the New Jail Tomorrow. Sometimes I think our most ardent prohibitionists got that way from hearing a bunch of drunks try to sing. Three types Too, there are three different types of drinkers. We have the social drinker, who takes a nip every now and then thinking it might help him get an order or get elected governor or something. They don't actually like the taste of whiskey, but they are a bad influence on everybody else. People see them take one or two drinks and they think maybe they can drink that way, too. Later they find out they can't. We have next the spree drinker. He gets drunk about four times a year and stays on it for a couple of weeks. The reason he gets drunk only four times a year is because he can't stand it physically or financially any oftener. It takes about three months for him to get in shape for another one. Then we have the steady drinker who staggers only when he gets stone-cold sober.
All three types are bad. Any of 'em are liable to bust out singing all of a sudden.
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