Smiley: Will and Steve

Dear Smiley: Will Rogers once said, “I never met a man I didn’t like.”

It is obvious he never met Steve Spurrier.


Bay City, Texas

Living proof

Dear Smiley: Nothing tops a family reunion — like the recent Ford reunion in Jonesville — to bridge the generation gap.

When my husband, Daniel, stooped to talk with a youngster, he told him, “You have a mandolin with your name on it. I am the great-great uncle who made it for you.”

The amazed youth looked up and spoke in absolute wonderment, “Gaw! I thought you were dead!”


Denham Springs

Cattle call

Dear Smiley: On a recent trip to Georgia to visit our daughter, I chose to avoid the Dallas traffic by heading east and taking Hwy. 69 to Lindale, Texas, to pick up Interstate 20.

We passed through miles of cattle ranches and farms. Upon entering Mineola, Texas, we passed a radio station with the appropriate call letters KMOO.


McKinney, Texas

End game

Dear Smiley: Some time ago my wife, Jo Ann, and I visited Bayou Pigeon and came up on a sign that read “The End of the World,” apparently indicating a dead-end road.

Fast-forward to a couple of weeks ago. While exploring the side roads of a parish (to remain unnamed), we came up on an ever-narrowing road with overhanging trees.

Jo Ann said, “I think we need more ‘End of the World’ signs.”



Sack for a pack

Dear Smiley: My husband, Edward, who passed away in June, grew up in the 1940s and early ’50s in Thibodaux.

He often told the story of when he was growing up and they would go to Chackbay and get a 30-pound sack of crawfish for a pack of cigarettes.

My, how times have changed.



Sack couture

Dear Smiley: In the ’40s, conservation in the country was somewhat different than in the city.

My family had two cows, who were fed cattle food every day when they were milked.

This food was in 100-pound sacks of a thin cotton material of different colors and designs.

When these became empty, my mother would activate her foot-pedal sewing machine and turn the sacks into casual dresses that she and her sister would wear for everyday use.


Morgan City

For space cadets

Dear Smiley: I confess I’m a wine geek who reads way too many wine labels.

One of my favorites is “Rocket Science.” I laughed out loud when I saw it for the first time.


Baton Rouge

Rough translation

Dear Smiley: You reader’s comment about a dermatologist turning a skin rash into an expensive condition reminds me of the time I saw a doctor about some red spots on my skin.

He said I had “pityriasis rosea,” which he said loosely translates as: ”What a pity. Your skin has red spots.”



Bad career choice

Dear Smiley: When Benny and I retired and moved to Destin, he was asked to teach a weekend course to alcoholics who had more than three DUIs.

While interviewing one of them, he said to him: “I see here on your record that you have had seven ATTEMPTED robberies. Didn’t you ever succeed at any of them?”

The man answered: “No sir, I never did.”

Benny then asked: “Didn’t it ever occur to you that you’re not too good at that, and might need to try a different occupation?”

BOOTS McARDLE Destin, Fla.

Join the club Dear Smiley: The reference to the ID-10-T Club reminded me of a time when I was about 10 or 11 and was initiated into the Siam Club.

The initiation consisted of me kneeling on the ground and repeatedly bending down while repeating “Oh Wa Ta Goo Siam.” This continued until I realized what I was saying.



Take kairos and points

Dear Smiley: My 5-year-old grandson Reed lives in Brentwood, Tenn.

He loves all sports — the Tennessee Titans, the Nashville Predators NHL hockey team, the Mississippi State Bulldogs (his dad is a graduate). He plays golf, soccer and flag football.

Recently he was attending worship services at Brentwood United Methodist Church with his mother.

Here is her text: “Today’s church story. Preacher is teaching about the two Greek words for time, chronos and kairos. On the screen it says ‘chronos vs. kairos.’ Reed turns to me, says, ‘Who you going for?’ ”


Lea Joyner Memorial UMC


Write Smiley at He can also be reached by fax at (225) 388-0351 or mail at P.O. Box 588, Baton Rouge, LA 70821.