Alton Duke offers this auction mishap:

"Our young granddaughter read 'Misty of Chincoteague' and  wanted to go to that Virginia island to see the wild horses swim.

"As she was the first girl in two generations of boys, of course we went.

"After the swim, there was an auction of the wild horses. I tried to get our granddaughter's attention across the fence with a hand motion. A lady told me I had just bid on a horse.

"I was relieved when there was a higher bid. It would have hard to get our horse on an airplane."

Daddy's dancer

One of the joys of parenthood is being able to embarrass your kids.

For example, Betty Diamond Alessandra, of New Orleans, tells of her father, Alfred "Fred" Diamond:

"Daddy had a tattoo of a naked lady on his chest, and without much coaxing would make it wiggle.

"I lived in dread when my girlfriends from school came over, thinking he'd go into his act…"   

On the Carousel

Ronnie Melancon, of Gretna, adds another long-gone bar:

"Has anyone mentioned The Carousel, a bar and dance hall in Port Allen at the foot of the Huey P. Long bridge?

"While attending LSU in the late '50s, this was one of the places I'd have a root beer or two, and then stop at The Pastime on the way back to the campus."

I confess to having visited The Carousel while in high school, to hear the great James "Sugar Boy" Crawford and his band, whose renditions of "Jock-A-Mo" ("Iko Iko") and "Danny Boy" were legendary back then.

We'd have excellent, if messy, barbecue at the little cafe on the side of the nightclub, then head for home, carefully avoiding the fight in the parking lot, which seemed to be an ongoing affair…

The long arm of Lindsey

Mike Montagnino, of Greenwell Springs, has another story about Istrouma High's assistant principal and discipline enforcer Clyde Lindsey:

"During my first week of school in 1964, a couple of 11th-grade buddies, Jack Alderman and Earl "Joe" Zimmer, assured me that skipping the school cafeteria's lunch and walking down Winbourne Avenue to Gibson’s Drive-in would be much cooler.

"On our walk back to the school, a '57 Chevy pulled over on the side of us. Behind the wheel was Mr. Lindsey.

"He yelled out, 'Get in, boys; I’ll give y’all a ride back to school.'

"After my buddies confessed it was their idea, I was spared the 10 licks they each got with his huge paddle." 

Keeping it clean

Dudley Lehew, of Marrero, says, "While channel surfing, I checked out the old Red Skelton show and was reminded why he was considered a genius.

"No bleeped words. No off-color gestures. Nothing political; just his malleable rubber face."

Special People Dept.

  • Dorothy Frost Taylor celebrates her 95th birthday Monday, July 6.
  • Carolyn Talbot, of Baton Rouge, celebrated her 94th birthday Saturday, July 4. (The party will be next year.)

Stupidity cheer

Wendell Lindsay, of Baton Rouge, says, "In light of news articles confirming Tuscaloosa students actually had COVID parties, I suggest the following cheer for LSU when it plays Alabama this year:

"You’re pretty dumb,

Certainly not smarties;

‘Cause you’re the ones

Who had COVID parties!"

Truth and fiction

In the Saturday column, James B. Hébert, of Abbeville, told of a monkey invading his family's house when he was a college student. I playfully suggested he had won it the night before in a bourée game. Turns out I was more accurate than I knew:

James wrote after the column appeared:

"Funny you should mention a bourée game. My brother and his friends were playing cards in the dining room, late into the night.

"We guessed that one of the guys did not completely close the front door when he left, and the monkey pushed the door to get in, proceeded to the kitchen, banged around the pots and pans, and ate raw potatoes and onions."

Which could have led to this police radio conversation:

"Sarge, we found a monkey in the park."

"Good. How's his breath?"

"Pretty bad, sir."



"He's the one. Bring him in."

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