Dear Smiley: Please tell me, did I witness a hole in one?

I was in my backyard when I heard a group of golfers yelling after teeing off on Hole No. 7.

As I looked towards the Stonebridge green, I saw the ball resting on the edge of the cup. It was a “near” hole in one.

The party of three, including a lady, then moved to the ladies’ tee directly behind my house.

While congratulating the young man on his shot, I mentioned that the ball may fall into the cup before he gets to the green.

The lady then teed off and began yelling, “I got a hole in one!”

As they were high-fiving one another I said, “You knocked his ball in. No hole in one for you!”

Once on the green the shocked trio confirmed that it was his ball that fell into the cup.

I guess I was right about his ball falling into the cup before he reached the green, but I never imagined it would happen the way it did. I’m sure I’ll never see that again!

I’m not sure if he scored that as a hole in one! What do your readers think?



Generation chasm

Dear Smiley: Tony Falterman’s comments about Bob Steele, Roy Rogers and Gene Autry reminded me of other cowboy stars of the ’30s and ’40s.

As a child, I enjoyed watching the old cowboy movies starring Ken Maynard, Hoot Gibson, Buster Crabbe, Hopalong Cassidy and others.

Several years ago, I purchased some of these movies and invited several of my grandsons to come over Saturday morning to watch.

After a short time, they left the room, went to other areas of the house and got involved in other activities.

I was alone watching the movies.

I was sad, because I so much wanted my grandsons to enjoy what I enjoyed as a kid.

By the way, my wife had warned me they would not care for the movies. As usual, she was right.


Baton Rouge

Stage struck

Dear Smiley: About cowboy movie star Bob Steele:

I went to Salida, Colorado, to visit my brother in 1939, when I had just graduated from high school.

Bob Steele, making an appearance at the picture show, was putting on a magic show.

He asked for someone in the audience to come up on stage and verify the Chinese rings he was using were real, which I dutifully did.

He was a little paunchy and didn’t resemble the cowboy he played in his movie career.

I consider it a privilege to have been on the stage with him.


Baton Rouge

Dear Med: Bob should have been at home on the stage — he was born into a vaudeville family, and first appeared on stage with his father, Robert Bradbury, at the age of 2.

The spelling song

Dear Smiley: When in the fifth grade at Fourth Ward Elementary in Lake Charles, our teacher, Mrs. Schmidt, would teach us a new song on occasion, to wake us up and break the boredom.

I was known to, uh, do other things in class, and occasionally be caught off guard and not know what was going on in class.

Mrs. Schmidt and the rest of the class started singing a ditty: “Oh, it isn’t any trouble just to issy my alee; issy my alee; issy my alee; so smile when you’re in trouble; it will vanish like a bubble, if you’ll only take the trouble just to issy my alee.”

I was totally perplexed; what’s an ‘issy my alee?’

Mrs. Schmidt said, “What’s the matter, Leonard? You look upset.”

I mumbled, “What’s an ‘issy my alee?’”

“Smile, smile when you say that,” she retorted ... and I smiled and repeated “issy my alee.”

Still no connection...

Sometimes, it’s fun to make the class laugh (but with you, but not at you).

I still can’t get that ditty out of my head.


Lake Charles

The dancing song

Dear Smiley: I was about 9 years old when my big sister, Barbara, brought home the album from the musical “South Pacific.”

Our parents were “classical music only” folks, so there was some eye-rolling, but they allowed us to play the record.

I loved that album, making up dances and learning all the lyrics.

Mom especially liked my dance where I would wave all “eight” of my arms and legs while attempting to make my eyes go “one eye on the pot and the other up the chimney,” as I performed my choreography for the “Cockeyed Octopus.”



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.