Tales of dress codes remind Linda McNabb Shaffer of this horror story about the peril of being a nonconforming woman:

"On a Saturday back in about 1965, I drove myself to the LSU Library to do research for a high school term paper.

"I wore long jeans and parked behind the Greek Theater, same as our family did for those Sunday afternoon rides.

"As I was crossing the street on the way to the library, campus police stopped and questioned me.

"This was back when coeds, if not living at home with their parents, were required to live in dorms on campus, and there was a very strict dress code on campus; no pants.

"I was put in the back of their car and given a very stern lecture about how I was in serious trouble and would have to report to the dean of women.

"I tried to explain that I was not an LSU student but came on campus to do research in the library. They weren't believing it.

"They called my parents to verify, and I was then driven back to my car and told to never come back on campus dressed like that."

Long and short

While we're on this sordid topic, here's a story from Julie States:

"In the mid '60s, I remember going to Mass in the winter and worrying that the usher would usher me right out of the church for wearing a pants suit.

"I kept my maxi-coat on throughout the service, until I saw a young woman walking up the aisle in a very, very, very short skirt.

"I had it all planned to ask the usher who was more lady-like, but no one said a word — to either one of us."

Miracle bait

Tom Hertwig offers what I promise is the last mention of vienna sausage for a while:

"In the 1980s, when I was leading a Boy Scout bike hike on La. 16 past French Settlement, we made a rest stop on an unattended pier along the Amite River.

"While snacking on vienna sausage, we found a fishing pole. We baited the hook with a piece of sausage and quickly caught a fish.

"We were all amazed, the fish got to live another day, and we went on our way.

"The convenience of canned meats, and my associating them with hiking and camping, always compensated for any lack of flavor."

More culinary news

Speaking of canned delicacies, Russ Wise, of LaPlace, says our tale of sausage in oil and its disturbing list of ingredients led him to do some research into the product, now made with pork and chicken.

Russ is happy to report his findings: "There are no chicken lips in that kind."

Nice People Dept.

Marvin Borgmeyer, of Baton Rouge, says after hearing about "how car repair places might take advantage of customers, especially ladies," he had this refreshing experience:

"My next door neighbor knocked on my door and said her car would not start. I jumped her battery and sent her to the AutoZone store on Perkins, near Bluebonnet.

"The person checked her battery and said it was fine, and checked the electrical system as well.

"He checked the cables and noticed one was loose. He tightened it and everything worked fine.

"He would not charge anything for his work (although she forced him to take a little donation)."

Special People Dept.

Reed Perilloux, of Colfax, celebrated his 95th birthday Wednesday, Sept. 12. He is a retired teacher, coach and principal, also retired from the Grant Parish Sheriff's Office. A World War II veteran of the Marines, he was a medical corpsman in the Pacific, awarded two Purple Hearts. He is a founder of the Colfax Pecan Festival.

Ranking the rank

After Monday's "Groaner of the Week," about a tollbooth accident, I heard from Phil with a question:

"Are you keeping a top 10 list of the worst groaners?

"Monday's could be No. 1, depending how you rate them — 1 being the worst and 10 being not so bad."

Flying low

A. Richard Chenot, of Bayou Sorrel, says that when he was in the Air Force, "I took the bus home on my first leave, in uniform.

"Any time I stepped off the bus, I was asked questions that should be for the driver.

"The Air Force, recently part of the Army, had finally adopted their new blue Class A’s, but few civilians were yet aware of the fact."

Write Smiley at Smiley@theadvocate.com. He can also be reached by mail at P.O. Box 588, Baton Rouge, LA 70821. Follow Smiley Anders on Twitter, @SmileyAndersAdv.