BEAUTY SHOP TALK

by

Vicki Charmaine Bunch

Bunch family vacations are like a game of Russian roulette--spinning the cylinder, pulling the trigger--till somebody takes the bullet, then we all go home.

Last winter it was Sonny getting drunk and falling in the fire at the father-son weenie roast. Then it was his brother Clifford cutting his face on a barbed wire fence while looking for a place to relieve himself.

Now it's Clifford again. He knocked himself silly on top of SnoCone Mountain, having fallen off his bicycle.

Clif was born with a poor sense of balance which was later attributed to an inner ear thing but by then it was too late. In high school it was almost impossible for him to get a date.

Sonny showed up at the motel where me and Faye were watching "Wheel of Fortune."

"Get me a six pack--quick," he said and we knew it meant trouble.

Meanwhile, the other Bunch brother Otis came upon two bow hunters at their camp and talked them into going up the mountain and retrieving Clifford on their four-wheeler. It took some persuading because Harv and Bill--the hunters--were pretending it was the olden days and didn't want to use anything modern.

Lucky for us the mail lady showed up at the hunter's camp with her ukulele. She loads Clifford in the back of her pick-up and hauls him down to where the Cadillac is stuck in a ditch.

She's a godsend cause her truck's got a winch and by now, Faye's hysterical because she's discovered the only food we have is a half a melted Butterfinger in Otis's tackle box.

The next morning the doctor in Bixford, who will get his license back next month, put casts on Clifford's broken bones.

We had to go back up old SnoCone to get Clif's bicycle, so we took a couple of six packs along for Harv and Bill, to replace the ones Clifford drank while he was eating their whole week's supply of beef jerky and Lil' Linda's Cream-filled Treats.

The Lil' Linda box with two remaining Banana Fanas was on the hood of their truck. We figured maybe Harv and Bill were taking a nap in their teepees.

Otis got out with the beer and a box of Pink Zingers (we couldn't find Banana Fanas in town).

When their big old bandana-wearing dog attacks Otis, Harv and Bill crawl out of the wigwams rubbing their eyes.

"Clifford sent y'all this and says thanks for the Lil' Linda's!" Otis hollers, jumping back in the car and starts doing donuts in the dirt, stirring up a cloud of dust.

"How are we supposed to live like mountain men with y'all trespassing on our survival camp?" says Harv, and we couldn't help but notice he was fiddling around with his bow and arrow set.

Faye lunged for the Banana Fanas and we got the hell out of there.

I can see Harv's point. Him and Bill are living like the noble savage--the good old fashioned way--and we show up in a Cadillac with Iron Butterfly blaring, like some time travel show.

Anyway, we got the double whammy this trip. Bad karma. (Pardon my flashback.) On the way home, Sonny tried to eat the 72 ounce steak at the Big Texan in Amarillo and wound up in the hospital.

"Looks like you bit off more than you could chew," joked the doctor who, according to his nurse, says that to all the Big Texan casualties.

With Sonny and Clifford both out of commission, it gave me and Faye the chance to go dancing with a couple of agriculture agents from Plainview.

We don't know yet how long the brothers will be laid up. All I know is there'll be hell to pay if we miss the tractor pull in Sweetwater.

Wish you were here!