Me and Homer Jones and Big John Tally were out behind the Sure Shot having a smoke, out there in the alley. The wind had turned cold and the storm clouds scudded across the sky like big old Viking ships heading for new conquests.

“Boys,” I said, “We need to do something fun before it gets too dang cold to do anything at all.”

“Well, Bob, what is it that’s got your mind astir today?” Homer replied.

“I was thinking — ” I started.

“Uh-oh” inserted Big John.

“Before I was so rudely interrupted — about what we did when we were kids at this time of the year.”

“Other than going to school and chasing girls, just what was that, Bob?” asked Big John.

“For one thing, we used to play football for the Wildcats.”

“Yeah” said Homer. “That’s when we were lean and mean. Now we’re oldy and moldy. Besides, when we played, we never won a game.”

“That’s beside the fact,” I said. “We ought to go down to a local game, just to support our old team. Besides, I’m getting ‘Bar Stool Butt’ from sitting around inside all the time. We do need to get out and do something different.”

Eventually, everyone agreed, and we made arrangements to meet at my place the next Friday that the ‘Cats played at home. That Friday came, and we met and drove down to the game. The first thing we found out was that we couldn’t take our cooler of beer inside. We huffed and puffed some but retired to the tailgate of my pickup to have a little party there. But a deputy sheriff came around and gave us a break and didn’t throw us in jail. So with our hands spanked and our tail between our legs, we just went in to watch the game, drink some sodas and try to keep out of trouble.

The game looked just like the games we played when we were in school. The Wildcats got tamed by some other team — so much for an enjoyable evening. We also figured out that our bar stool butts didn’t fit so well on those hard benches. Funny, that didn’t used to bother us so much.

The next idea I had was to observe Halloween.

“After all, we hadn’t had much free candy in a long time,” I said. “So, let’s dress up and live it up.”

Homer jumped right in.

“Listen, Bob, we’ve been putting up with and even participating in your crazy schemes,” he said. “But this is just too much and I won’t do it.”

“Me, too,” chimed in Big John.

“OK, then, what should we do before it gets real cold?” I asked.

“Ain’t it logical that since this is October, we ought to frequent our favorite watering hole, and even have a few in that other town, Snoqualmie, and call it ‘celebrating’ Oktoberfest?” Homer said.

I finally agreed with that, thinking it would be the safest thing for us. Of course, it sure wouldn’t help my ‘barstool butt’ any.

• Bob Edwards lives in North Bend and is a member of the Sno Valley Writes! group. E-mail him at bobledwards@comcast.net.