Dear Smiley: When something funny happens to you and no one is around to appreciate that moment of fear or that wide-eyed fish look on your face, you have to tell someone … so you send the story to Smiley's column.
Being a good wife, I was washing off bird poop from our car when I turned right into this gigantic spider web, the largest I'd ever seen.
It covered my face with a sticky web I had never felt before. I brushed it away and thought it was gone when I took a step or two and saw some legs hanging from my glasses.
I immediately brushed them off, screamed and ran inside the house. Feeling safe but sticky, I went to the bathroom to make sure the webs were out of my hair.
I stood in front of the mirror trying to feel for the webs. When I looked up, there, sitting on top of my head, was a spider as big as a baseball.
I grabbed a roll of toilet paper and began to pulverize it to death.
Now I am not sure, but if there was a cellphone present, I could have sent Twitter, Facebook, etc., info a frenzy with millions viewing and laughing at it, and me becoming famous.
Instead, I am calling the Terminix man — and probably will be having nightmares about that spider forever!
Dress for success
Dear Smiley: Mom has always told me I needed to dress better on the weekend.
I finally had to agree with her when I was visiting a Baton Rouge flea market, and I asked for a particular item:
"Try the Goodwill store; you go out front and take an immediate left."
"Isn't that a one-way street?"
"Oh, you have a car?"
Dear Smiley: I read in your column of some different encounters with horse-drawn carriages.
Recently I traveled with friends on motorcycles through Amish country in Ohio.
Several times we passed Amish families riding horse-drawn buggies or wagons. As we would come up to them, we learned quickly to watch for droppings on the road from the horse.
Guess this is one of the things people in cars don't have to worry about. But on motorcycles it can be dangerous.
We would give them room and pass with caution, waving to them as we passed.
Most of them would ride on the shoulder of the road, but there were several times when the road had no shoulders.
Just one more thing about being a happy biker besides getting bugs in your teeth.
BOBBY de MONSABERT
Dear Smiley: I love articles about fun days in the past.
It never took much to make a child happy. When my parents gave us a nickel for the show and a nickel for popcorn, I would save one nickel to ride our Donaldsonville ferry, the George Prince.
It cost a nickel if you were on foot, and you could ride back and forth for that one nickel. I made lots of trips across the Mississippi.
Dear Smiley: I really appreciated Georgie Smith's article in the Tuesday column about her friend Louise Ritter and getting old being "inconvenient."
I agree! "Old" is a mental thing. My body may start failing, but as long as I can manage, "I ain't gettin' old!"
Dear Smiley: About your directions discussions:
It's important to get good directions, not merely directions.
I recall what once happened to Justin Wilson, famed Cajun cook and storyteller.
He got lost, and spotting an old Cajun walking along the road, stopped him to ask directions to Cocodrie.
The old man pointed behind Justin's car: "You gots to go on back down that road and take a right where Boudreaux's barn used to be … no, keep on down 'til the left turn goin' to the brûlée … no, wait…"
He paused, yanked off his cap, wiped his brow, then advised, "You gots to go on down all the ways back to wherever you came from — 'cause, podnah, you can't get to Cocodrie from here!"