A Trip Down Memory Lane

Cameron and I got to reminiscing this evening and there were a couple of stories in particular that I enjoyed telling.

My oldest brother got married in June of 1988 in the great state of Texas. My dear, sweet, kind, loving, thoughtful husband suggested that since I was already over halfway there, I might as well go on to Florida and take Melissa and Nick to Disney World. Dutiful wife that I am, I didn't argue.

We flew to Texas accompanied by my youngest brother (who had a massive growth spurt those two weeks as only a teenager can and I could have set my watch by his four-hour eating schedule but that's another story) and was met by a sister who lived between Dallas and Fort Worth. I rented a car and the five of us drove to Orlando.

We were traveling east against the time zones so each day we drove longer into the night. The second night I think it was, we stopped just outside of Mobile, Alabama to gas up the car. The kids and I wandered around, stretching our legs at the edge of the lights and someone, I don't remember who but probably Nick since at age three he was closest to the ground, found a very interesting bug. I can't describe it because I don't really remember other than that it was about a couple of inches long but it looked quite odd and unlike anything we have here. Melissa, Nick, and I circled around it, trying to figure out what it could be without being able to see it very well. Steve saw us crowded around and sauntered over and then Rhonda came to see what was holding us up. Finally, the attendant arrived to see what the problem was.

"This bug." we ask him, "What is it?"

"That?" he points. "Oh, that's a moe cricket." (You have to imagine a thick Southern accent.)

Steve, Rhonda, and I look at each other thinking, "A Moe cricket? As in Larry, Curly, and -?"

"A Moe cricket?" I verify.

"Yeah, a moe cricket." He looks at our confused expressions. "You know. They call it a moe cricket 'cause it digs in the ground like a moe." (Remember the accent).

"Oh, a mole cricket!" we exclaim in unison.

"That's whut Ah said." It was his turn to look confused. "A moe cricket."

"Yes. Yes, you did say that." I assured him.


Somewhere in Louisiana we were in a McDonalds having lunch. I will admit right here and now that I eavesdrop when people are talking in an ordinary voice. It drives Mike nuts but I do it. If they're speaking low or whispering, I ignore it but if they're in a public place and speaking normally, I'll often listen. This conversation was between the woman taking a drive-up order and the woman in the car giving the order.

I didn't pay attention to the exchange until a note of confused exasperation crept into the employee's voice. I'm going to type the words spelled properly; you have to translate it into Louisiana Southern.

"Ma'am, could you repeat that again?"

"Blah, blah-blah, blah-blah."

"I still didn't understand you. Could you please speak up?"

"Blah, blah-blah, blah-blah."

"Uh, how about if you speak a little more slowly."

"Blaah, blaah-blaah, blaah-blaah."

"Thighs? Ma'am we don't carry thi-"

"Blah, blah-blah, blah-blah!"

"Ma'am, this is a McDonalds. We don't carry thighs. There's a Kentucky Fried Chicken just down the road a pi-"

"Blah, blah-blah, blah-blah!"

"Ma'am, how 'bout you come on down to the window here and tell me what you want?"

Small pause.

"All right, ma'am. Now what was it you wanted?"

Other woman replies...

"Oh, a small fry!! Yes, ma'am! I can get you a small fry!"

I almost spit soda across the table I'm laughing so hard and turning red from trying to hold it in. Rhonda's looking at me oddly. Steve's hungrily eyeing the kids' hamburgers, wondering if they're going to eat all their lunch.

"Didn't you hear them?" I wheezed. "They can't even understand each other!"

"I don't listen to private conversations." Rhonda said primly.

"Well, your missing a lot of fun," I retorted, "and it wasn't private!"