Billy Arcement, of Prairieville, noting that we haven't had many woodpecker stories lately, seeks to remedy that omission:
"For the last two years, a rather large and somewhat rare woodpecker, known as the pileated woodpecker, has been landing in front of the large windows on my home.
"The windows have no grills and are reflective. The bird can see itself on the window surface. It pecks at the reflection, echoing sound throughout the room. It pecks so hard I’m concerned it will shatter the tempered glass.
"It’s an 'early bird,' starting no later than 7 a.m. I chase it away; it persistently returns. We play this game for about two hours. He pecks, I chase.
"My remedy is to tape your newspaper to the bottom portion of the window so he cannot see his reflection. The bird reads the depressing news, aiding his departure.
"I don’t use your column. He may never leave!"
Butty and bap
Our seminar on french fry po-boys brought this note from Karen Tatum, of Prairieville, about a similar dish prepared by our cousins across the sea:
"Since no self-respecting Brit would use the term 'French fry,' in England, the cheap and delicious concoction ideal for soaking up overindulgence is called a 'chip butty.'
"Thick cut 'chips' are served on buttered bread or rolls with a dash of salt and a splash of malt vinegar. Other condiments optional. I swear it’s good!
"The other working (or drinking) man’s favorite sandwich is the cheese and onion 'bap.' But that’s a story for another day."
Aid from India
"T.W. continues our look at the British by noting their 'poor reputation for food' and tells this story:
"While traveling on business to London, my contact met with me upon arrival and made a big flowery British speech about providing me a proper English dinner that evening. He took me to an Indian restaurant.
"On that same trip my hotel’s menu listed a wild boar entrée. It sounded very interesting and appetizing.
"Hoping the Brits could be culinarily redeemed, I eagerly ordered it, expecting something along the lines of a seasoned pork roast/chop.
"What I ended up with was two sausage links (coulda been boar, coulda been Jimmy Dean) drowned in some sort of white gravy.
"At least the Indian food was delicious…"
Morris says, "I stopped at a grocery store to get a lime. I went to the produce department, but only saw lemons under the lemon sign and the lime sign.
"Unfortunately, I made the mistake of asking a teenage employee where the limes were.
"He pointed to the lemons under the lime sign. I said, 'Those are lemons.'
"His reply: 'Oh, you mean the green ones.'"
Special People Dept.
Lessleen Owen, of Lafayette, celebrated her 93rd birthday Tuesday, April 13. She was a real estate agent for many years.
"Speaking of age groups," says Kirk Guidry, of Baton Rouge, "I remember when 'snap, crackle, pop' were sounds I heard from my cereal … not my body."
A grave matter
Marvin Borgmeyer saw this cemetery sign: "Persons are prohibited from picking flowers from any but their own graves."
Mention of misheard song lyrics brought two stories about the same song, Kenny Rogers' 1977 hit "Lucille."
David Marmillion Sr., of Terrytown, says, "When my daughter, Dana O'Brien, was about 5, she used to sing, at the top of her voice, her version of 'Lucille.'
"It went like this: 'You picked a fine time to leave me, Lucille, with four hundred (instead of 'hungry') children and a crop in the field.'
"Nothing could deter her from those lyrics until late into her musical career."
Gary Newport, of Berwick, says, "'Lucille' has a stanza that brings back old memories of whenever our group got together for some good times and musical listening.
"That was the line we misheard as 'You picked a fine time to leave me, Lucille, with four hundred children and crap in the field.'
"We would all sing this part of the song in chorus as it played, then raise another drink and holler, 'Play it again, Kenny!'"