“I found Harry the perfect retirement job.” Jimmy had finished his lactose friendly omelet (scrambled eggs) and virgin mimosa (orange juice) before deciding to talk about the first thing that came to mind.

The other members of the Circular Congregation Breakfast Club, have noticed that there is a strong correlation between the amount of blood that leaves Jimmy’s brain to aid his stomach with digestion, and the reduction in his reasoning skills during the process (coupled with a marked increase in his intolerance for Daylight Savings Time).

“Who says I need a retirement job?” grumbled Harry. “My plate is already full with thinking up new ways to get out of doing things. Since Harry’s retirement a couple of years back, his schedule has been over-booked with strenuous activities, such as mowing the lawn and waiting for the grass to grow back.

“This time you are going to like my idea,” chortled Jimmy, as he rubbed his hands together in anticipation of sharing his mid-digestion ramblings. “This isn’t like using Elon Musk’s flame thrower to roast marshmallows.”

“I doubt it.” Harry continued to grumble and grouse, as he tried to catch Sarah’s attention, in hopes of getting a refill on his coffee. She had made herself strategically unavailable because Harry had already surpassed his allowable morning grouchiness quotient. That refill just might take a while.

“There is a guy in Oregon, or Colorado, or some other stoner paradise that is selling something called ‘Raw Water’ for $65 a jug,” he said. “I’m thinking we should get in on some of that action.”

“What in the name of turpentine flavored banana taffy is raw water?” growled Harry again.

“Some trendy, new, health kick drink made from unfiltered and unprocessed water. It’s just water bubbling up from the ground,” explained Jimmy. “Some guy started filling up jugs and selling it as a health elixir. He got a little publicity from a New York City Fake News place, the hipsters went crazy over it, and he doubled his price.”

“Unfiltered water? It’s just water sitting in a puddle that seeped up from underground?” asked Tommy Jones, “What about the bacteria?”

“Yep, bugs and all. The stuff causes diarrhea. It’s hysterical,” Jimmy said with a snicker. I guess he’s telling folks they can use it as a colon cleanse.”

“Exactly how is this supposed to get me a retirement job?” asked Harry, completely concerned about what the answer may be.

“You go to a building supply superstore and buy one of those 50 gallon plastic rain barrels with a spigot at the bottom. We set the thing up in your backyard to catch rain water. You fill bottles from the spigot, and we’ll split the profits right down the middle – 60/40.”

“But…” Harry hesitated momentarily as he waffled between challenging Jimmy on the merits of his idea or the glaring one-sidedness of his math.

“We’ll call the stuff ‘Gravitationally Harvested Water’ and market it as being ‘Sky Filtered’ and ‘No Impurities Added’. This could make us at least $65.”

“What about acid rain?” asked Big John Hudson. “That’s a real thing, isn’t it?”

“I’m way ahead of you, John,” said Jimmy as he rubbed his full belly, took a sip from his coffee, and watched as Harry looked around for Sarah (and his refill). “We’ll put it in psychedelic, colorful bottles and set and up a stand in San Francisco, at the corner of Haight and Ashbury.”

Larry Wilson is a mostly lifelong resident of Niles. His essays stem from experiences, compilations and recollections from friends and family. He can be reached at wflw@hotmail.com.