And The Barbecue, a Lucullan event that takes place at the Holman ranch, far out in the snake-and-gator boondocks. The Barbecue was slow to swing this year because somebody asked Elmer, the drinking man's bartender, for a martini and there wasn't any vermouth. Bump Holman, Bud's son and the pilot of four successive Dodger planes, got in his car and took off down the road. "Oh," a sweet thing lamented, "he isn't going all the way back to Vero Beach just for vermouth?" No, lady. He's just getting his car out from under the trees so he can use the telephone. The vermouth arrived in a few minutes by airplane.
Meanwhile O'Malley put on a funny apron, grasped a tall Scotch and water and studied the mullet the girls were preparing. "Great food fish," he said. "And you know, that's the only fish that has a gizzard. That's right."
And how, he was asked, did he happen to know a fact like that? "Oh, I don't know," O'Malley said airily. "I guess I just read it somewhere. But it's true. It really is. You could look it up."
It might be a good idea for everybody to look it up. You never can tell when you might be passing through Rawlins, Wyo., The Crossroads of the World. Some guy dragging a dead elk might stop you and offer to bet you 10,000 yen on it—either way. Look it up. You're your own corporation and you've got to take care of yourself.