good的例句

good的例句（共6篇）

篇1：good的例句

well用法示例如下：

（1）All the Indian batsmen played well

所有印度击球手都打得不错。

（2）Mix all the ingredients well

把所有原料搅拌均匀。

well也可作“有理由地,恰当地,合理地,可能地,明智地”解,多用于can, could, may或might之后。

well还可作“很,相当”解,指达到相当的程度。

well的比较级为better,最高级为best。

well作“很,相当”“彻底地,完全地”“有理由地,恰当地,合理地,可能地,明智地”解时不用于比较等级。

well在句中作状语,可修饰动态动词、静态动词或介词短语。

篇2：good的例句

Good question.

好问题。

Good idea.

好主意。

Good point.

说得好。

Good girl./Good boy.

好孩子。

Good dog.

好狗狗。(有些把狗狗当宝贝的老外也会对狗狗说Good girl或Good boy)

Good for you.

你真行。

Its all good.

一切都好。

So far so good.

到目前为止，一切顺利。

Its not good enough.

还不够好。

Hes very good with people.

他很擅长与人打交道。

She is too good for you!

你配不上她!

You need a good rest.

你需要好好休息。

Do you want some good advice?

你想听听好的建议吗?

You should make good use of your time.

你应该好好利用时间。

She always keeps her body in good shape.

她的身材总是保持得很好。

They had a good word for you.

他们都帮你说了好话。

She is good-looking.

她长得很好看。

He is a good-tempered man.

篇3：高中英语教学中例句的选择

一、思想性

例句的选择, 应具备一定的思想内涵, 其内容应该是催人奋进、积极向上的, 能够让学生从中受到启示和鼓舞。例如, 在教学“make up for”这一短语时, 选择了“Hard work can make up for a lack of intelligence.” (勤能补拙。) 再如“No man is born wise.”这些句子都能够让学生在学习的过程中受到必要的启示, 不仅记住了例句, 而且还得到了例句所含主要内容的熏陶, 可谓是一举两得。

二、趣味性

“兴趣是最好的老师”, 学生有了兴趣就会主动地去学习。富有趣味性的例句可以消除学生学习英语的心理障碍, 并引起学生对于知识的足够兴趣, 激发他们的求知欲。因此, 所选的例句一定要有一定的趣味性。例如在讲park和fine一词多意的用法时, 我在黑板上写了一小段对话:A:What make you think you can park your car here?B:Well, there is a big sign on which is written“Fine for parking”.然后请同学猜是什么意思, 关于park的含义同学们都猜对了, 在此处意为停车。可是fine的含义就都说不出了, 于是我便用英语给大家解释, 原来“Fine for parking”的含义是“停车罚款”呀, 学生们都会心地笑了。

三、时效性

时效性是指把国内、国际发生的一些事件融合到所学的知识中, 使学生们感到新鲜有趣。例如, 在讲separate...from这个短语时, 我选取了下面这个例句:We must separate the gir infected with bird flu from the healthy people. (我们必须把患禽流感的女孩儿和健康人隔离开。) 在学到succeed in这个短语时, 我举了这样一个例子:Beijing has succeeded in holding the2008 Olympic Games. (北京成功地举办了2008年奥运会。)

像这些例句可以适时地举出, 这样的例句不仅给学生留下了深刻的印象, 而且还能在一定程度上增强学生对于国内外大事的关注度, 培养其自身的时代感, 从而达到教书育人的目的。

四、生活化

生活化, 就是指教师在教学中选取发生在学生身边的事情作为例子, 通俗易懂, 从而将难点化解, 激发学生的兴趣。这样的例句不仅贴近学生的生活, 而且也容易让学生理解、吸收。例如, 在教学V-ing形式作主语时, 发现有一个学生在美滋滋地照镜子, 我便在黑板上写了这样一个句子:Looking into themirror can’t make us beautiful, only knowledge can make us fuland rich. (照镜子不会使我们漂亮, 只有知识能使我们更加充实与富有。) 一名学生翻译完后, 那名照镜子的学生也似乎意识到了自己的行为, 不好意思地低下了头。这样的例句, 不仅能让学生真正地认识到了自己的错误行为, 而且也让英语知识在学生的心目中变得更为清晰、形象且具体。

五、典型性

所选择的例句, 不一定要有多复杂, 但是一定要典型, 寥寥几个词语也可以让学生反复琢磨, 进行细细地品味。例如, 在讲lonely和alone的区别时, 选择了这两个例句:

1. He lives alone in a lonely village, but he doesn’t fee lonely.

他一个人住在偏僻的村庄, 但他不感到孤独。

2. The little girl was frightened at the frightening snake.

看到那条可怕的蛇, 小女孩吓坏了。

以上两句要辨析的词语出现在同一个句子里, 学生通过阅读就能够自然而然地领悟到它们的不同之处。

讲V-ing形式和V-ed形式作状语的区别时, 我先在黑板上写下一组例句:

1、＿＿＿＿＿＿from space, the earth looks like a blue ball.

2、＿＿＿＿＿＿from space, you will find the earth looks like a blue ball.

随之, 让学生比较句子中的主语, 并用see的适当形式填空, 之后又举了一些类似的句子, 让学生们对其进行归纳和总结, 学生们觉得很有成就感, 觉得自己居然能够总结语法规则。

定语从句中, 关系代词和关系副词的选择是一大难点, 我便选择了下面一组例句:

1.This is the factory＿＿＿＿＿＿his father visited last year.

2.This is the factory＿＿＿＿＿＿his father used to work.

3. This is the reason＿＿＿＿＿＿he was late.

4. This is the reason＿＿＿＿＿＿he explained.

5. I will never forget the days＿＿＿＿＿＿we spent together.

6. I will never forget the days＿＿＿＿＿＿we studied together.

学生们经过认真地观察、分析, 终于掌握了将先行词带入从句进行还原, 来选择关系词的方法。 (keys:1.that/which/不填2.where/in which;3.why;4.that/which/不填;5.that/which/不填6.when/in which.)

篇4：good的例句

美国芝加哥的设计师Felicia Ferrone与意大利厨卫品牌Boffi合作将常见的镜子升级成一种超迷你的凸于墙外的类雕塑品。简洁不锈钢的几何面具备环状外框，翻转过来可作为放大的化妆镜使用。（图01）

日本设计师Oki Sato的“石头花园”（Stone Garden）设计中的超耐用台面是Caesarstone的专利使用产物，这是一种含90%以上石英的涂料聚合物。Nendo品牌的首席设计师和生产商一起设计制造出了一个限量版销售系列——222种自然色调卵石形状的桌子。（图02）

以书法的古老艺术为灵感，香港建筑和室内设计师梁志天（Steve Leung）为意大利品牌Neutra设计出了名为“墨石”（Inkstone）的洗手池系列，这是Leung以磨墨的砚台为原型，采用九种不同的天然矿石设计的卫浴作品。（图03）

独立式浴缸是完美浴室的必备品，尤其是那些按人体功能学原理设计的梨形（Pear Cut）浴缸。设计师Patricia Urquiola为Agape品牌设计的最新产品是运用生物材料Cristalplant制造而成的全白色或者白色深灰对照色的碗状浴缸。（图04）

平价的高端设计已经在家居用品中占到越来越大的份额。出生于澳大利亚悉尼的伦敦设计师Marc Newson为Caroma品牌设计了一个浴具系列，包括简洁风的水龙头、抽水马桶、浴缸、洗手池甚至极简风格的小便池。（图05）

Quadtwo是Boffi品牌Quad洗手池系列的升级版，进一步诠释了小浴室大空间的理念。美国纽约咨询公司的JeffreyBernett在设计战略中加入了前抽屉和旁抽屉，这个贴心的设计使得人们能够随手拿到洗漱用品。（图06）

意大利传奇设计师Antonio Citterio为Axor品牌设计的台式厨房龙头，使得家用厨房餐前准备变得更加便捷。这个14英寸高铬钢合金的龙头能与其他Citterio出品的厨房固定装置相匹配。（图07）

西班牙瓷器专家Apavisa发布了他瓷砖系列Maderas的新产品，这款产品将木纹自然的呈现出来。这款乡村系列瓷砖有蓝色、红色、绿色、米色、白色和灰色六大色系，可制成不同尺寸以满足各类空间需要。（图08）

在设计师Zuchetti的Jingle水龙头系列以及米兰设计师Ludovica和Roberto Palomba的家饰产品中，光滑的方形和圆边细腻地融合在一起。这种融合常常用于洗手池和壁架的组合，以及浴室喷头系列。（图09-10）

多产设计师Patricia Urquiola发布了她为意大利瓷砖之王Mutina品牌设计的最新作品。这种Azulej瓷砖是以三种中性色为主色调，以意大利手工花饰陶器为灵感，可以数字印制成27种系列图案。（图11）

很少有人成功地将珠宝的奢华感和房间的外部装潢结合起来，而Artistic Tile公司的创始人兼首席执行官Nancy Epstein却做到了，她设计的Foliage Be Bop手工玻璃将这种看似不可能的结合完美实现。（图13）

FM Milano工作室和Ceramiche Refin品牌合作设计生产出一种拥有几何美感的装饰框系列，即一系列超大尺寸的瓷砖将基础形状演绎出一种平面图形的视觉美感。（图12）

为了更好地降低那些卫浴用品家具较多的浴室给人造成的杂乱感，德国设计师Christian Werner为Duravit品牌拓展了Ketho系列产品，其中就包括这面Universal镜子，他很明智地利用白铝作为镜子的边框，使之与旁边的卫浴环境相协调。（图14）

对于各种产品领域都涉及的设计师Philippe Starck而言，直至今日发布他的第一个瓷砖系列Flexible Architecture，是一件多么神奇的事情。这是他为拥有50年历史的意大利品牌Ceramica Sant’Agostino设计的，产品包括一个形状独特、用于卫浴瓷砖前端的小装饰物。（图15）

意大利瓷砖品牌ABK的室内设计团队从制酒器中发现了一种美感，他们将发酵桶上的木纹图案运用于Soleras系列地砖，该系列有六种不同的仿古图样供选择。（图16）

如果浴室有足够的空间，意大利设计师EnzoBerti的独立式大理石洗手池是很值得考虑采用的。这款产品作为Kreoo品牌的Loto系列的一部分，洗手池有四种不同的材质表面可供选择。（图17）

Boffi品牌的艺术总监Piero Lissoni扩大了他的厨房系列Aprile，更加注重对比度视效。可丽奈 （Corian）、不锈钢、铝和层压材料，这些材质的运用，使厨房台面与木门在视觉上达到了互补和谐的效果。（图18）

设计师Aki Motoyama的Cloud系列所呈现的马赛克效果是由五种尺寸、三种表面材质的瓷砖组合搭配而来的。该系列曾经是这位设计师在意大利多莫斯设计学院 （Domus Academy） 研究生毕业论文的一部分，而现在已经由意大利品牌Brix生产出品了。（图19）

篇5：good的例句

i shall speak only of my first teacher because in addition to the other things, she brought discovery.she aroused us to shouting, bookwaving discussions. she had the noisiest class in school and she didn’t even seem to know it. we could never stick to the subject. she breathed curiosity into us so that we brought in facts or truths shielded in our hands like captured fireflies.

she was fired and perhaps rightly so, for failing to teach fundamentals. such things must be learned. but she left a passion in us for the pure knowable world and she inflamed me with a curiosity which has never left. i could not do simple arithmetic but through her i sensed that abstract mathematics was very much like music.when she was relieved, a sadness came over us but the light did not go out. she left her signature on us, the literature of the teacher who writes on minds. i suppose that to a lager extent i am the unsigned manuscript of the high school teacher. what deathless power lies in the hands of such a person.

篇6：Mr. Good

I couldve kicked myself for chasing a woman bass player all the way to Cincinnati: a month after I got there, I left her for a twenty-three-year-old grocery clerk. A few weeks later that was over, too, and I didnt even have money for a bus ticket back to Dallas. I hadnt been able to find a gig since Id moved. I tried finding work in a music store, and then started applying anywhere and everywherefast food, motels, convenience storesand finally to stay out of a homeless shelter I had to pawn the only one of my guitars worth much, a 1965 Gibson Hummingbird. I stayed drunk for two days. Then I started working day labor so I could get it back. I was mixing mortar and carrying bricks, which I hated because it messed with my hands. The second week I smashed a thumbnail.

Everyday I went to the pawnshop to make sure the guitar was still there. The owner looked like a vaguely degenerate antique dealer in a movie. He wore a vest.

Every morning I got up at five and made the half-hour walk to the temp service, a trailer set up in a gravel lot. The place looked like a used car dealership without any cars and the owner was a big thick guy named Purcell who was quick to let you know he was retired Navy. The whole set up was pretty shady. Pay was always in cash and you had to get there before dawn to get a job. Except for me the crowd was all Mexican, illegals Im pretty sure. They stayed to themselves, so Id stand alone while we waited for Purcell to show up and smoke and drink coffee and think about how I was going to smash the guitar over a low brick wall once I got it back. My father gave it to me when I was eighteen. One afternoon, 1979, when my high school let out he was in the parking lot sitting on the hood of an old Lincoln hed parked sideways across five spaces. You couldnt miss him any way you looked. He was dressed in the same outfit Hank Williams was buried in. I hadnt heard from him for seven years.

I told my friends I was supposed to meet with a teacher and went back inside and hid in the bathroomI figured if I waited long enough hed leave. The janitor ran me out of there so I wouldnt interfere with his drinking. I killed some time walking the halls, then fooling at my locker. Finally the assistant principal who was locking up made me leave.

He was still outside. It was deserted now. He smiled and waved.

“Thought that was you I saw,” he said. “Figured Id wait.”

I nodded. I didnt know what to say.

“I hear youre getting ready to be a high school graduate,” he said.

I nodded again.

“Thats real good.” He cocked his head, looking at me and smiling. “Your grandma dont mind your hair being that long?”

“She hasnt said anything.”

“First time I came in with a duck tail she chased me with the scissors.” He took a pack of cigarettes from his inside coat pocket and rapped it on his knee and a single cigarette jumped halfway out, and if he hadnt been my father that wouldve been cool as hell.

He wanted to go get a hamburger. The inside of the Lincoln smelled like a strip club at six AM. The radio was missing. I reminded him how to get to McKennas, a place that had curb service. After we got our drinks he poured part of his Coke out the window and filled it back up from a pint of bourbon he pulled from under the seat. He offered me the bottle but I shook my head.

“Dont drink?” he asked.

I shrugged.

He nodded. “Dont seem to talk, either.”

After seven years that crawled all over me. I turned away and stared out my window.

“Ah son,” he said, “I know, I know. I . . . well,” and then I heard his cup slosh. I was looking out at a station wagon where a woman was handing around soft serve cones to her kids. A little boy in the backseat was looking back at me.

“Your grandma tells me youre playing now,” he said.

“Yeah.” I still didnt look at him.

“Whatre you doing?”

I was in a bad cover band that played sock hops and dances at country clubs. Id been listening to Earl Klugh and Wes Montgomery, too, trying some of that out.

“Not much,” I said.

The boy pulled his nose up with his thumb and grinned. He had braces. His mother had on a green scarf.

“I guess you dont go in for Bob Wills and such,” he said.

“No,” I said.

“Not many do anymore,” he said. “Thats why this cars such a piece of shit.”

Then neither of us said anything. A long minute passed, then another. The little boy kept making faces between licks of his cone. Then the mother caught him. After a glance at me, she jerked him around by the collar.

I heard him splash bourbon into his cup again.

Then the car hop brought the tray with the food and hung it on his window and I felt like I could finally turn around.

“Anything else?” she asked. She was bleach blond and pudgyI recognized her from school a couple years back but didnt know her. She had on white jeans and a pink shirt with the tails tied into a knot below her breasts. When you looked at her all you saw was stomach.

“You all got any ice cream left in there?” he said.

“Sure,” she said.

“Then get you one and charge it on my ticket. Girl who looks sweet as cake needs some ice cream to go with her.”

She giggled.

“Or maybe you want a drink of this special Co?Cola instead?” he asked.

She leered, looked left and then right. “Sure,” she said. He handed her the cup and she ducked her head and took a drink.

“When they let you off here?” he said.

“Not soon enough,” she said. “The horses ass that runs the place keeps us here half the night.”

“Well, were big boys,” he said. “We get to stay up late.”

I opened my door and got out. He looked around. “Hey, where you going?”

I shut the door. My eyes met the girls over the roof of the car, then I ducked my head in the window. “Ive got to go,” I said. “Ill see you,” and I started away from the car.

“Hey!” he yelled.

But I didnt turn around. He yelled a couple more times but I kept going. When I was far enough away I looked back. The girl was still standing at the Lincoln.

I was hoping hed be waiting outside the house when I got home. He wasnt.

A week later a notice came from Martins Drugs saying I had a Trailways package. It was a cardboard box wrapped in brown butchers paper and tied with string, light to carry but about the size of Shakespeares coffin. When I got it home and opened it I found a new calfskin guitar case packed in newspaper and inside that was the Hummingbird. The guitar was in good shape, but the words Mr Good were scratched in tall letters on the back of the body. In the bottom of the case was a note:

Son

I wont you to have this a fine instrumint i bought it new in 1965. Maybe somday we can play together i can teech you some Bob wills. The only thing about it is i got no idee how the writing got on the back i woke up in a motel in oddessa tex 8 yeer ago and it was almost nite and their it was this is stil a good guitar.

Dad

I hadnt heard from him since. If he was alive hed be sixty-three, and the older I got the more I wished I could see him. Wed have something to talk about now that Id made every mistake he had.

Once I was living with a psychologist and she started ribbing me after she saw how I took such good care of the Gibson. Better take Mr. Good to soccer practice, shed say, or Mr. Good says he wants to order Chinese. If she hadnt been so good-looking I wouldnt have put up with hershed come home after counseling all day and make astrology charts on her clients and smoke pot. She finally drank enough coffee one morning to think to ask how I got the guitar. I told her the story about my dad.

“Thats cute,” she said.

I just stared at her.

“What is it?” she said.

I shook my head.

“No, what is it?” she asked, almost hysterical.

“Nothing,” I said. “Just looking at your hair.”

* * *

It was cold. I was in Purcells lot, smoking, drinking coffee, half-listening to the Spanish talk all around me. I had seven hundred dollars in my socksafter getting paid today Id have enough to get the Gibson back, and after Monday and Tuesday Id have enough to go back to Dallasand then suddenly an angry shout came from behind the trailer, then another. The lot quickly fell silent. Then the Spanish started up again and most of the men walked over and looked behind the trailer but as soon they did they started leaving, some running, and in about two minutes the place was deserted except for me.

I kept watching the trailer, about fifteen yards away. Nothing. I couldnt hear anything either but the hum of the arc lights. I didnt know what to do. I was kind of scared, but I had to try to work that day, no matter what, so I decided to stay where I was and wait for Purcell to show up. I started to light another cigarette, then footsteps sounded on the gravel and a man staggered around the side of the trailer. He was clutching his side and when he saw me he said something in Spanish. He was big, at least three hundred pounds, and looked like a bear coming toward me. Then he just stopped and stood there. I could hear his breathing. He sank to his knees like a camel sitting down and fell over.

For about a hundred and fifty dollars I wouldve left. But there werent any philanthropists in the vicinity. I went over to him. He had rolled onto his back and when he saw me standing over him he started talking in Spanish. He had a rip in the side of his thin jacket and there were dark stains around it. I took off my denim coat and kneeled down, and when he saw what I was doing he moved his hands and let me use the coat as a compress. Some warm blood soaked into the denim, but not much. He seemed more panicked than anything. He just kept on jabbering.

Then I heard other voices. Two Mexicans were standing a few yards away, at the edge of the light.

“Habla ingles?” I called out.

“No much, no much,” the taller of the two said.

I got him to hold the jacket in place and right away he and the injured man started talking, arguing it sounded like. I ran the three blocks to the store where I made a point of buying my coffee every morning because I liked the way the clerk looked. I asked her to call 911.

“Sorry, the phones not public,” she said.

“Are you kidding?” I said.

She shook her head. “Thats the rule.”

“But a guys been knifed or something.”

She hesitated, then looked at her watch, a pink thing the size of a coaster. “My managers due here any minute now and he says you cant let the phone thing get started or peoplell be asking to use it all the time.” She looked over my shoulder. “Could you move, please?”

I stepped over but stayed at the counter and an old black guy in a baseball cap moved up and gave her numbers for a lottery ticket.

“So youre not going to call?” I said.

“No,” she said.

I went outside and picked up the receiver on the pay phone on the side of the building and put it to my ear even though I knew it was dead. I asked two people going into the store if they had cell phonesboth shook their heads, though one had his in a holster on his belt. Then I ran back to the temp service because there wasnt another payphone nearby and I didnt know what else to do.

Purcell was there. He had his headlights directed onto the scene and he stood in their beams next to the injured man and the two Mexicans who were squatting over him. The shorter one, who I could now see was an older man, was crying.

“I cant have this kind of helling going on here,” Purcell was saying.

“Mr. Purcell,” I said.

He jerked his head around and squinted into the headlights. “Hey, whos there?” He recognized me. “So did you see what happened here?”

“No. I just tried to call an ambulance but I couldnt find a phone.”

He waved like he was shooing a fly. “I checked him, he doesnt need one. Itd be a waste of the taxpayers?money. All hes got is a little lard sliced off.” Then he put his hands on his hips and stared down at the man. He had on a white short sleeve shirt and a dark tie; I had never seen him in a coat, no matter the temperature. “Hey,” he said loudly and all three Mexicans looked up at him and he spoke to them in broken Spanish. The tall one holding my jacket answered.

According to Purcells translation: the two Mexicans who had stayed were from the same town in Mexico as the injured man, and the older one was his uncle or cousin or something. Two days ago the tall Mexican had heard that the injured manwho looked at least thirtyhad gotten someones teenage daughter pregnant. The tall Mexican wasnt sure who the girl was, but hed heard thered been a blow up with her father.

“I didnt think there was anybody left who cared about that,” Purcell said. He took out a pack of Juicy Fruit and put a stick in his mouth. He stared down at the man, his face a brown study. I crossed my arms and hugged myself. I was freezing.

“This has implications,” Purcell said.

“We should probably call an ambulance,” I said.

“We might do that,” he said. “But weve got to move him off this property first.”

I didnt say anything, but Purcell jerked his head around like I had.

“Just because this pussel-gut decides to tap some Mexican cheerleader, I should have to pay double and triple on my liability insurance? And as for the police,” he said, “whatd you think: Columbos gonna show up here at dawn?” He pulled a wallet-on-a-chain out of his back pocket and started speaking Spanish again. When he finished all three Mexicans nodded. The old one wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. Then Purcell took out two fifty-dollar bills and handed one to each of the two squatting men. They both spoke to the injured man, patted him on the shoulder, then stood up and left. Purcell bent over the injured man and slipped two bills into his pants pocket. He spoke to him and the man answered. Purcell replied, his voice angry. The man shook his head back and forth on the ground. Purcell started cursing in English. He turned to me, “Sack of shit says he cant get up.”

“Huh,” I said.

Purcell gave the man a little kick in the hip and said something in Spanish. Then he grabbed the mans arm and tried to haul him up. He didnt budge. He was dead weight. Purcell dropped his arm. “All right,” he said, “you get his shoulders and Ill get his legs,” and he stepped around the man to his feet. I didnt move.

He waved. “Come on, lets go.”

“Thats my coat there,” I pointed.

“Yeah? So?” he said.

“Its ruined,” I said.

His expression deadened as he figured it out, which took about two seconds. He shook his head and cursed again. He took out his wallet and handed over a fifty.

“I need a hundred more,” I said.

If either of us had been smoking the whole block wouldve exploded. “Listen,” he said, “I wouldnt be paying anybody anything if I could speak enough Spanish to make these tacos understand if they dont do what I say Ill tell the police whatever I want. But even though youre a goddamn briar you understand me, dont you?”

“The police might hassle me on your sayso,” I said, “but thats about all they could do. And think about it. If I do end up talking to them, Im such a briar I might let it slip how you run a straight cash business.”

He turned his back to me and started muttering. He stayed that way at least a half-minute. Then he turned back around holding out five twenties. His mouth was very tight.

Lifting the man was like picking up one end of a rowboat full of water, if youve ever done that. We carried him ten yards, rested, then went the last ten yards to the street. Purcell dropped the mans feet and stayed bent over with his hands on his knees, huffing and puffing. He glanced up at me, then unhooked his key ring from his belt and tossed it and it hit the sidewalk right in front of me and I had to do a skip to keep it from hitting my feet. “Move my car up to the trailer,” he said.

I looked at the keys, then at him. “What?” I said.

“Do it, or Ill tell the cops you robbed me.” He took his cell phone out of his back pocket.

“Why do you want me to do it?” I said.

“Just because I do,” he said.

“Forget you,” I said.

“All right,” he said and punched a button on the phone, and thats when I thought of the seven hundred dollars in my socks and how great it would look on a guy without a coat.

The car was a Cadillac in name only. The last time it looked good Eddie Murphy was funny. I slid under the wheel, but didnt close the door so the rooflight would stay on and I could find things. The seat was too far up for me to fit my feet to the pedals, so I reached down to find the lever and my hand hit a bottle under the seat. It was a half-pint of Jack Daniels and all that was empty was the neck. I unscrewed the cap, bent over like Id dropped the keys and took a drink, then sat up again. The glove box was missing its door, a cigar with an inch of dead ash was in the ashtray, a single porno playing card was in the passenger seat, a woman who looked like she was waiting for surgery to begin. I turned the card over: seven of clubs. I bent over and took another drink. I was thinking of the last time I saw my fatherone of these old boats always did that.

I discovered the seat wouldnt move, so I managed to get situated with my legs splayed out on either side of the steering wheel. I shut the door, then pulled the car up in front of the trailer and cut the engine and the lights. I stuck the half-pint down the front of my pants. Then I looked in the rearview mirror: Purcell was still at the curb, under a streetlight, standing over the injured man talking and gesturing. It looked like he was haranguing a corpse.

I leaned over to get at my pants pocket and took out the hundred and fifty and put it on the dash behind the steering wheel. I just couldnt abide the idea of having to think of Purcell everytime I played the Gibson. I wouldve rather seen it in the hands of Campfire Girls.

The pawn shop opened a half-hour before the liquor stores. Id been waiting in a coffee shop across the street. I had the Gibsons empty calfskin case and a Epiphone in its case. I was going to pawn the Epi which would give me the last fifty I needed to get the Gibson back, plus another sixty or seventy. That much would get me to Shreveport, and I figured I knew enough people in Dallas I could find someone whod drive out and get me.

I went in the pawn shop, the bell ringing over my head, and right away I noticed the Gibson wasnt on its stand in the line of guitars that sat on a high shelf in the back. Holding the two cases I suddenly felt like an idiot in a Norman Rockwell painting. The empty one felt light enough to throw through the display window.

The owner was still wearing his pea coat and was at the back of the long shotgun room behind a line of jewelry cases to my left. He came up front.

“Its gone,” he said. “Girl bought it last night not long after you came in.”

I set down the guitar cases.

“She paid cash so I dont know who she was,” he said.

I asked him what she looked like.

“I wouldnt kick her out of bed for eating crackers,” he said.

I kept looking at him. I couldnt believe he had said that. Then he gave a police blotter description of the girlyoung, long brown hair, skinny, pale, wearing jeans and a green jacket, said he wouldnt call her pretty exactly. I asked him, if she came back in, to give her my name and the place where I roomed and to tell her Id pay to get the Gibson back. I said Id pay him, too, for doing that.

“Once I tell her, you got no reason to pay me,” he said.

“Thats true,” I said.

“A twenty ought to take care of it,” he said.

I felt so beat I didnt argue. I squatted down and lifted my pants leg to get at my sock. The bell rang and a guy in a dirty overcoat and came in and set down a kit bag and started pulling out barber tools. I stood up and the owner took my twenty. I picked up my guitar cases and left.

Walking down the street, freezing, I realized I could take the money I had and buy a coat and a bus ticket and be back in Dallas by midnight or I could stay in Cincinnati and buy a coat and try to find the Gibson. I thought about it three seconds and decided to stay.

I can play guitar pretty well. And Ive spent twenty years worth of afternoons in libraries killing time before gigs so I know the difference between Augustine of Hippo and all the other Augustines and I know that even if we do come up with a unified field theory it isnt going to change a damn thing. But other than that, I wouldnt take my own advice about anything.