A story about big heads and slow leaks

Hello folks, let’s chat…Being on the radio and in print means that I’m often recognized in and around northeast Louisiana. It can make things very interesting, but not in the way you might think. It’s just that many of my relatives are from the same area. And that means when someone, who appears to be a stranger, nods at me and smiles in my direction, I’m extra careful to give them a big cheesy grin in return, because I never know if they are recognizing me for my work, or if they’re my people. Or, my peoples’ people.

Lord knows I don’t need mama calling me and saying, “Well, now, your cousin Sally’s nieces’ nephew’s brother-in-law said he ran into you at the Cracker Barrel and you acted like you didn’t know him from Adam.” Never mind that I may not know him from Adam. It’s my sister Rhonda that remembers everybody and their mama and what they wore in high school. It’s just that I don’t want anyone to think I’m uppity. That’s mama’s word. She used it right along with the Good Book when she preached about pride going before the fall.

I’ve been saving a story that will be just perfect for illustration. I have Ken’s permission to tell it, too. He’s cool like that. Ken is a Public Information Officer for the sheriff’s office in his hometown. Part of his job requires him to give occasional TV interviews when there is a crime that warrants it. One Sunday afternoon, after a week in which Ken had appeared on the small screen, he ran by the grocery store.

While waiting in line to check out, Ken noticed that the elderly lady standing behind him was watching him intently. Finally, she spoke up.

“Didn’t I see you on TV the other day?” She asked, “I think it had something to do with the Sheriff’s Office?”

Ken was tickled. Well now, someone had finally recognized him. He smiled and confirmed that indeed, it was him. Ken admitted that his head was growing a wee bit— until she spoke again.

“Remind me,” she said. “I forgot. What’d they get you for?”

Hugs, Shellie