It’s been a lot of fun, but all good (or even pretty good) things must come to an end.

That’s why I’ve finally shut down our “You might be a Yat …” contest (is that a rousing cheer I hear?) and I am ready to announce the winners.

Yes, winners, because there were TWO entries — one from Metairie and one from Baton Rouge — that our relatively unbiased and poorly bribed judges found equally prizeworthy.

I promised to stake the winner to an erster po-boy and root beer at Deanie’s, and that’s what will be awarded to the Metairie winner.

Since there is also a Baton Rouge winner, he will receive an oyster po-boy and root beer also, but from The Pastime. They may each bring a guest, and I’ll be pleased to join them.

(Note to Advocate expense account person: Don’t freak out — it’s a legitimate business expense. Trust me .)

As it happens, both winners submitted four entries, and the judges found that taken together, they presented a fine example of what it means to be a Yat.

Steven J. Koehler, of Metairie, won with these entries:

“If you think that purple, green and gold actually go together … you might be a Yat.

“If you know where every pothole is on your way to visit Yamomenem … you might be a Yat.

“If your favorite underwear is decorated with fleur-de-lis … you might be a Yat.

“If you prepared for your ski vacation by sliding down Monkey Hill on cardboard … you might be a Yat.”

And Frank Fronczek, of Baton Rouge, triumphed with these:

“You might be a Yat if…

“… you get on a bus labeled ‘Cemeteries’ and think nothing of it.

“… you know what you’ll be eating for dinner next Monday, and every Monday after that.

“… you still refer to a certain hue as ‘K&B purple.’

“… a ‘shotgun’ is not something to hunt ducks with.”

Thanks, guys, and one more thing:

You want those po-boys dressed?

Word to avoid

Val Garon says, “When I was a youngster, I grew up amongst French-speaking neighbors.

“My mom and dad spoke French only when they didn’t want me to understand their conversation.

“A speaking habit of a lot of Cajuns was the use of the expression ‘Hawuuuuuu’ after fussing at their kids.

“It was like, ‘I told you not to do that again, Hawuuuuuu.’

“Mom had been a schoolteacher and was strict in her (and our) grammar usage. She tried not to use slang or ‘Frenchified’ words.

“However, one day I did something wrong, and she fussed at me and ended her tirade with ‘Hawuuuuuu.’

“I knew she meant business when I heard that.

“My older brother Henry overheard the fussing and teased me afterwards.

“He said, ‘Yeah, Valery, Mama ‘Hawuuuuuued’ you!’ ”

Costly loss

Dale Ulkins submits this to our “Blindsided by Technology” Dept.:

“I’m not going to mention HER by name, but this past weekend SOMEONE in our house lost the spare key to our Dodge Grand Caravan.

“I’ve always heard horror stories about the cost of replacing said key, but when I inquired at a dealership I was told it would be well over $200!

“I found uncut replacement keys online that would still have to be cut and programmed by the dealer, but (semi-understandably) the dealer doesn’t want to be responsible for a key they did not sell.

“I swear I’d rather buy a new vehicle than pay this kind of money for a key. (I believe this is called cutting off one’s nose to spite one’s face.)

“If I do have a replacement key made, I’m going to attach it to a board with a length of chain to make it less likely for SOMEONE to lose.”

(Careful, Dale. I’d ease up on SOMEONE — especially if she has a board and chain in her hands…)

Reverse view

Kelan Madore comments on our recent seminar involving a French word:

“If déjà vu is the feeling of being in the same place and having had the same experience before, then ‘vuja de’ is being in a totally unfamiliar place and not knowing what the heck is going on . ”

Special People Dept.

Doris Olivier celebrated her 90th birthday on Thursday, Sept. 4.

A touching encounter

“This struck me as funny, don’t know why,” says Algie Petrere:

A guy in a taxi wanted to speak to the driver, so he leaned forward and tapped him on the shoulder.

The driver screamed, jumped up in the air and yanked the wheel over.

The car mounted the curb, demolished a lamppost and came to a stop inches from a shop window.

The startled passenger said, “I didn’t mean to frighten you; I just wanted to ask you something.”

The taxi driver said, “It’s not your fault, sir. It’s my first day as a cab driver.

“I’ve been driving a hearse for the past 25 years!”

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