My lunch companion is named Patrick. We strangers hit it off though we did not talk politics. He has on a cap that said "Freedom 1776." I dare not go there. Couldn't take the chance it would spoil my baked fish and mashed potatoes.

It is he who comments that I sat in the corner so that I could see the entire dining room. I reminded him that Wild Bill Cody died on this date holding the deadman's hand of aces and eights with his back exposed. Not that I didn't feel safe where we were but I always feel better when no one can sneak up behind me. President Lincoln could vouch for that.

I comment that if someone lobbed a hand grenade into this tight restaurant it would probably kill us all. Patrick said at least we were close to the door and might have have a fighting chance of getting out safe. He goes on to relate that in the army he once had grenade training. No doubt the first person I've met with grenade training.

He commented on the book I had at the table.

"That's Ted Williams," he correctly observes. Ted is finishing a powerful swing on the cover.

He tellsme he grew up in Mobile, birthplace of Hank Aaron and they named a stadium after him.

I automatically like anyone from Mobile who mentions Hank Aaron.

Good lunch.