Dear Smiley: After reading about french fried potato sandwiches, I got a nostalgia moment.
In the early ’40s, when I was in first grade at Our Lady Star of the Sea School, my grandmother would make me a french fried potato sandwich, because that was about all I wanted to eat back then.
She would watch the clock, waiting until it was nearly time for my lunch break to start frying the potatoes. Then after the sandwich was made, she would walk about six or seven blocks to my school to bring me my sandwich so it would still be hot.
Being a child, I never realized all the love and care that went into this endeavor. But now, since I am a great-great grandma, I think back on those times and only wish I were able to have her back to thank her.
ELAINE L. HASPERUE
Dear Smiley: I’ve read with entertainment the stories involving locking keys in the cars.
During my college days in the middle ’70s at Nicholls State in Thibodaux, I invited my New Iberia roommate to come down to New Orleans for a weekend of partying.
He showed up at 6 p.m. in his 1969 Dodge Coronet (named "Isabel") and threw me the keys, as he didn’t know his way around New Orleans.
We parked on Decatur next to the old Jax Brewery, and partied at Pat O’s until 2 a.m.
As we approached Isabel, I asked John for the car keys. He replied he didn’t have the keys, since I drove. I searched my pockets, with no luck. And we were moneyless.
Wondering what to do, I leaned up against Isabel. The car was vibrating. The door was unlocked. The car keys were in the ignition, with the car still running!
Maybe (but highly unlikely) we had started partying earlier than intended.
Dear Peter: I'm not so sure "unlikely" is the right word here.
Dear Smiley: Thoughts on your columns about rain:
Chief Meteorologist Margaret Orr, of WDSU-TV in New Orleans, seems to know the difference between a sprinkle and a drizzle.
She calls those tiny, misty rain droplets "spritzles."
And, speaking of rain, I have another question. Why is it that chances of rain are now called "opportunities" for their occurrence rather than "possibilities?"
If we lived in a desert, I can see why rain would be an opportunity. In light of our area's frequent torrential downpours, though, it seems to me rain chances should be called possibilities.
Please shed some light on this dark subject, Smiley. I need help on this one.
Dear Cheryl: I agree with whatever Margaret says about this …
Dear Smiley: In the late ’80s, my wife Zelma and I decided on a three-day visit to Chicago.
After doing the usual, Field Museum and the Shedd Aquarium, we decided to walk to the Navy Pier.
Imagine our surprise when we walked in and the first thing we saw was a huge functioning toaster built from a defunct Yugo! It was smoking and the huge toast was going up and down.
A little farther down was a huge Yugo office phone, a Yugo two-person movie theater, and a hunting camp complete with deer head over the fireplace.
There were at least 20 these piles of junk built into functional items!
We found that students of an art school in New York had been given one dead Yugo to convert into something useful.
Makes me wonder where all this “art” can be found today!
No snails for you!
Dear Smiley: My wife’s granddaughter, 6 years old, was playing cooking while I was trying to watch the news.
She said, ”Pop, what do you want me to cook for you?”
In order to put her off and to be more attentive to today’s news, I said, “What about some escargot?”
She immediately responded with, “We’re all out of that; however, I can just fix you a surprise!”
Am I the only adult who thinks kids are way smarter today than when I was a kid?