Good, Deke. That’s about the most we’re...

Good, Deke. That’s about the most we’re likely to get out of him right now. Been terrible hard on him since he lost his home. Was just a little place, too. Barely room for one person. I used to joke if I got an erection in his house I’d be crushed to death by the walls. So I invited him to come and stay with me, at least, as long as I can hang onto my humble abode. But, hey, when you can’t pay up, you ain’t no different than a bum on the street. No secure floor for anybody in this country. None at all. It’s like everybody’s walkin’ around in a room with an invisible trapdoor. Unless, of course, you’re a billionaire. Which none of us seems in immediate danger of becomin’. Gotta love dear old Deke, though. A fine, hard-workin’ man once, like all of us.