Dear Smiley: A friend of mine was sitting on his front porch watching his kids play baseball in the front yard.
Little Ben, who is 4 years old, went up to bat and hit the ball across the yard.
He ran as fast as his little legs could carry him to first base, then on to second base.
He was rounding third base when his dad yelled, “Run home, Ben, run home!”
So little Ben ran up onto the porch with his dad.
Dear Smiley: My dad Walter used to curse up a storm when he played golf.
We were playing at the old Audubon golf course when another gentleman joined us.
After 10 holes, I noticed the gent had a Nebraska golf bag.
I asked, “Did you go to Nebraska?”
He said, yes, he graduated with a degree in theology.
I asked where he worked and he replied, “I work for the Archdiocese of New Orleans.”
I started laughing, and Walter went pale.
As my dad tried to apologize to this gentleman for his cursing, the gentleman said, “Please be yourself, because today is my day off.”
While I laughed the rest of the round, my dad did not say a word for the next eight holes.
People who really knew Walter know staying quiet was not his style.
Dear Smiley: Re “cussing without cursing:”
There is an old story about the preacher who was involved in a wreck with a truck driver.
The driver hurled many obscenities at him.
“I don’t have your vocabulary,” the preacher said, “but I hope when you get home your mother runs out from under the porch and bites you.”
Dear Smiley: Thanks to you, I do remember the ugly years of the ’70s.
In 1973, I made a trip from Chattanooga, Tennessee, to Louisiana for a job interview.
My hair was shoulder-length (à la John Travolta in “Pulp Fiction”), and to accompany my suit and tie, I wore a pair of bright blue and white saddle oxfords.
The job was in the chemical industry, not a circus.
As evidence that my appearance was acceptable at the time, I got the job.
I don’t know what happened to those shoes but wouldn’t be surprised to see them as part of a clown costume some day.
Dressed for excess
Dear Smiley: For my 1974 television debut as an investigative reporter for Miami’s NBC affiliate, I imitated the fashion of the late Shady Wall, a colorful Louisiana state representative from Monroe, by wearing a white suit, black shiny shirt, white wide-body tie and spectacles with photo-gray lenses that turned opaque under the studio lights.
My appearance prompted the station owner to ask the news director if he had recruited me to Miami to investigate the Mafia or to join it.
JOHN BLISS CAMP
The ’70s woman
Dear Smiley: In answer to your question as to why the ladies didn’t comment on men’s ’70s “bling” outfits:
It’s because we were busy looking through rose-colored glasses at our feet to make sure our really wide bell-bottom pants didn’t get tangled in our unwieldy platform shoes!
Meet Mr. Hideous
Dear Smiley: I see absolutely NOTHING wrong with the sartorial splendor you described in your daughter Tammy’s Facebook posting of you wearing cool ’70s garb (in the Monday column).
Tell her she should have seen ME with sideburns, long hair, mustache, 6-inch-wide tie in a Bear Bryant-style black-and-white houndstooth check, knee-length Nehru jacket lined in flaming red satin, accented with a 2-inch-wide belt and 2-pound peace symbol buckle.
You’re welcome to copy my trendsetting fashion for something to wear in next year’s Spanish Town Mardi Gras Parade.
Dear Dudley: Sorry. Even the Spanish Town Parade has its limits…
That’s show biz...
Dear Smiley: In your Monday column, you described your clothes and hairstyle in an old ’70s photo of you and said they made you look “like an extra in a porn movie.”
How do you know?
Dear Geary: Good question. When I think of a good answer, I’ll get back to you…
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.