When I moved from Idaho to Colorado, I had quit my job, lost my house, car, horse, trailer, and first wife. The man takin’ over my veterinary job at the feedlot inherited my pickup. He took me to the airport and dropped me at the curb. “Have you got everything?” I looked down at my duct-taped guitar case and hangin’ bag. I felt my pockets, “Wait,” I said, “I forgot my keys, I . . .” I paused as it sunk in. I was down to no keys.

DOWN TO NO KEYS

I was visitin’ with an ol’ capacho the other day. We were talkin’ ’bout bein’ down to no keys. I said, “Pardner, have you ever been down and out?” “Down!” he said. “I been down so low I could count the spots on a lizard’s belly!”

I said, “How’d ya git by?” He said, “When you got a lotta time to kill but no money to spend, well, let’s say I developed some mighty cheap hobbies.”

“Like what?” says I.

“Pickin’ yer nose. When you have the time to spend, that can become a highly developed art form. In fact, it should be an Olympic event. And finding addresses of old friends who owe you money.

“Pickin’ up roadkill . . . you can render possum grease and sell coon hides. You can spend a lot of time runnin’ yer quail traps. I know fifteen different ways to line up cottontails so you can git two with one shot.

“I taught a wild turkey to fetch and a raven how to bark like a coyote. I know how to season navy beans with prickly pear and fifty recipes for sardines and Vienna sausage.

“I’ve spliced a million reins, hog-ringed my bit chains, and covered my horn with a nut sack just to git by. And a feller can spend a satisfyin’ afternoon huntin’ old horseshoes.

“You can resole your boots with cowhide, cardboard, sidewalls, or electrical tape. Many’s the time I’ve straightened last year’s straw hat.

“Some other cheap hobbies I’ve taken up are whittlin’, straightenin’ nails, cullin’ socks, patchin’ jeans, and rememberin’. Rememberin’, you do that a lot.

“Summer evenin’s is a good time to identify insects.

“If yer lucky enough to have an ol’ truck, lots of time can be piddled away keepin’ it runnin’. I’ve spent plenty of time figgerin’ out which tire to use for a spare. A field trip to the wreckin’ yard can be fun and productive. Lookin’ for good spark plugs, lug nuts, and drain-plug pans. Or jackin’ it up, collecting the motor oil, and letting it settle so you can use it again. Have you ever used tin foil for a head gasket?

“I learned to cut my own hair, drink the less expensive wines, and make a bag of Red Man last six weeks.”

“Gosh,” I said, “you oughta write a book!”

“I can’t,” said he. “Too busy. This afternoon I’m goin’ through my old razor blades; what the sociologists call quality time.”