Dear Smiley: An alert came up on my phone about a fatal automobile accident. The headline was "Elderly man killed in accident."
My nomination for "the most New Orleans thing ever" is this:
After our March 24 story about items that work only on TV commercials, Bobby Marcello, of Thibodaux, offered this example:
To be honest, April Fools' Day is not an observance I particularly enjoy; most of the pranks people come up with range from juvenile to sophomoric. And this year, with our social distancing, it might be better to forget the whole silly thing.
Nancy Boudreaux adds to our stories of unique words and sayings in this part of the world:
Weighed down as we are by bad news, I found this little story comforting. It shows there are folks working hard under difficult conditions to keep things going, and caring about those they serve.
Dear Smiley: Some of our sayings down here don't translate that well to different parts of the country.
In the Wednesday column, Kirk Guidry told of a Facebook music and trivia party, and asked for appropriate songs about the current coronavirus crisis and the resulting "stay away from people" rules.
Frank Jaster, of Covington, a proud Tulane grad, tells this story:
Kirk Guidry comes up with a suggestion for making our current homebound condition a bit more bearable:
Since we all seem to be going slightly crazy with worry these days, I welcome stories about anything other than ... well, you know.
Murphy J. Stillwater, of St. Francisville, says, "I received my census survey in the mail, with instructions on how to complete it online.
Dear Smiley: In the 1960s I was cargo officer on the USS Betelgeuse, a Navy supply ship (I'm a retired Navy commander).
Karen Poirrier, of Lutcher, has a timely suggestion:
Algie Petrere, of Central, says, "All the hand-washing admonitions given the last few days reminded me of something that happened a few years ago.
Our mention of the "M&M Boys," Bob Mooberry and Allen McCarty, who hosted a late-night movie show on WVLA-TV (then known as WRBT) in Baton Rouge in the ’80s, brought a remembrance from John Newman.
Taking a break from our virus discussion, here are a couple of old St. Patrick's Day stories I tell every year at this time. They're from back in the days when we had parades to mark this holiday:
All the suggestions about self-quarantines to avoid exposure to coronavirus sound to me very much like the "hunker down" method of dealing with hurricanes.
Dear Smiley: Right after college I lived in New Orleans for two years. My apartment was about five blocks from Fat Harry’s, so that became my watering hole.
Dudley Lehew, of Marrero, says, "Re calls for hand-washing hygiene during the current coronavirus scare: did you ever stop to think that people turn on the faucet with bacteria-laden hands, wash thoroughly — and then touch the same faucet to turn it off?
Harold Chastant III tells us what it takes to call yourself a real New Orleanian:
It's time for my annual rant against Daylight Saving Time.
John Carver, of Lacombe, tells of his adventures in business and education, which started in eighth grade in 1949, in Long Beach, Mississippi:
Frances Billeaud, of Baton Rouge, says Wayne Smith’s story in the Thursday column about his days in Lafayette as a USL (now University of Louisiana at Lafayette) instructor in the ’60s brought back some memories:
Dear Smiley: We were members of the Methodist church and attended every weekend.
Perry Rose, of Denham Springs, says, "Building nuclear reactors for U.S. Navy ships and subs was the most stressful job I ever had. Even the supervisor was uptight.
Donald Landaiche, of Donaldsonville, says his sister Jeanne has been called a "living saint":
Millie Matherne, of Gonzales, tells of this exchange her husband Pat had with an electronic device, indicating that a sense of humor is being been programmed into those things:
I don't know Al Ricketts, of Gonzales, but I have to admire him for his bravery.
Mother's Day isn't until May 10, but I just came across two "Mama" stories I can't wait that long to share:
Dear Smiley: My mom could hear a pin drop at 50 feet. Her nickname when she was a kid was “Rabbit Ears.”
We've had several comments on the difficulty folks outside south Louisiana have with Cajun names.
Here's the latest report from our occasional correspondent John Currier, nuisance alligator hunter (the gator is the nuisance, not the hunter):
Nancy Van Den Akker passes along this memory of the 2006 Mardi Gras, when New Orleans was still reeling from Hurricane Katrina and its floods, and crowds were thinner than normal:
Every year on this special Tuesday, I think back to Mardi Gras 2006, the one after the floods following Hurricane Katrina nearly washed away the celebration, along with much of New Orleans.
As a proud resident of Baton Rouge's venerable, eclectic, delightfully wacky Spanish Town neighborhood, I can report that Saturday's Mardi Gras parade was conducted with quiet dignity and a sober demeanor among its participants.
Dear Smiley: On the subject of Nixon’s not being "gone" in 1960, the prophetic “just away” sympathy card at The Shreveport Times (in the Tuesday column) reminds me of a card that The Associated Press bureau in New Delhi, where I reported from 1959…
Our seminar on misheard song lyrics has brought up the name "mondegreen."
The death of Henry Gray, Baton Rouge's gift to the blues, has a lot of us remembering our best times with Henry.
Seldon McCleskey, of Lafayette, deals with our current shortage of "dogs chasing cars" stories with this one, which happened in Miami in the late ’40s or early ’50s:
Jack Kyle, of Baton Rouge, might be coming into some money:
I've been enjoying our "mondegreens," which I discovered is the word for misheard song lyrics.
Dear Smiley: My father, Kye Madere Sr., was the Jax beer distributor on the east bank of St. Charles, St. John, St. James and part of Jefferson Parish in the 1940s, '50s and '60s.
Evidently everyone from Louisiana named Melancon has had a similar experience with folks from elsewhere pronouncing their name:
Martin St. Romain II passes along his dad's World War I story of a chance meeting in Nantes, France, in 1918.
Sandra Vargo brings up a subject we had some fun with a good while back, and says maybe it's time to revisit it:
Tara Sanchez responds to Kevin O'Neal's Friday story about traveling while he lived in Japan and being stopped in the Paris airport and having his bags of grits examined:
I can't wind up our Dixie Beer seminar without telling my favorite Dixie story — again.
Dear Smiley: My wife, Kathy, and I recently returned to live in the New Orleans area after jobs had taken us away in 1989 for 30 years.
Kevin O'Neal, a "Baton Rouge boy" living in San Francisco, has a cautionary tale about traveling with a powdery white substance in your luggage:
Dudley Lehew, of Marrero, our unpaid political consultant, offers to show those Iowa folks how to get organized: