On the way to Wimpys
I would pass old man Hosmers photography studio. At night he was
often in his darkroom developing his pictures, cursing at his only companion,
that dammed dog. Not infrequently this old German was a
bit in his cups, yet he always stayed sober enough to do good work.
His favorite expression was Just good enough aint no good
atal. He invited me to be his apprentice, probably so he
would have someone to talk to other than that damned dog.
The first thing he taught me was that when the lights go off you have
to know where things are. A place for everything, and everything
in its place. That saying, and Just good enough aint
no good atal were his hallmark.
Several times I have repeated those two expressions to my employees.
Im sure they didnt mean as much to them as they did to me,
coming as they did from old man Hosmer, the meticulous German. I can
still picture him shuffling about in his old house shoes, cursing his