Page 18 - Billy Graham in Heaven

The Four Lane into the Brain
11
“I’m serious Jake. I can get you All or Nothing speks for cheap. My friend owns the Asheville franchise. It’s helped lots of baby boomers get beyond their shallow attachments to legally-binding contracts.”
“Not everyone is as sex obsessed as you,” Jake replied. But down deep in his subconscious a little bell tinkled. “There might be something to it,” whispered his id to his ego. “Enough of sex and drugs,” Jake muttered out loud.
“What about them Hawks?” Newt obligingly asked. The Atlanta Hawks finally made the NBA finals. Jake had followed them for forty years from the great Pistol Pete to the Indomitable Dominique, but to no avail. The Hawks had never even been close to a title. “You think they have a chance?”
“Oh yeah!” said Jake. “We’re just discovering the brilliance of Mendacious Malloy. He’s Magic, Air and Bird all in one compact package! Gimme one of those tall boys!” Jake said. “We used to call ‘em silos at Chapel Hill.”
“You know,” said Newt, “the game comes on soon. We could pay $40 at the Civic Center to see it played on their arena Spectrom at a real b-ball court, or we maybe could go to the bar.” He grabbed Jake’s shoulder and squeezed, kneading the bones and muscles like an old-fashioned doctor. Jake winced and then surrendered to the rough intimacy.
“Let’s bar it!” said Newt. He closed the shop and the two left.
•
Jake was right though. Spectroms had enlarged the