It’s been a pretty tough week at the Elliott-Hannon household. We worked really hard creating a pre-Halloween event. Maybe it was just too hard for me, because, although our tour was a huge success, I spent the rest of the week in bed with all sorts of ailments.
This meant missing a soirée at Lynda and Paul Hebert’s home. It was one I had looked forward to for weeks. I love costumes and music. (You know Paul as one of our talented musicians and community activists, and Lynn, nurse, entrepreneur and local beauty.) Although I felt quite sorry for myself, those in attendance will thank me for not showering them with my germs. Here’s an idea — I could have gone as “Typhoid Mary” and worked my illness into the theme. OK, I didn’t say it was a good idea.
Being a bit sick meant that I have not kept up with news, both national and Golden Triangle related. Missing The Dispatch and WCBI for even one day makes me feel psychically askew. Since I was mostly asleep for about five days, I felt as if I had just awakened, like Rip Van Winkle, from a 20-year nap.
I was quite taken aback to learn that Kim Kardashian’s 72-day marriage to Kris Humphries was over. My first response was, “Who is Kris Humphries?” (Perhaps I was asleep longer than I realized.)
Of course, everyone saw that coming. But 72 days?! Really? Not even the Las Vegas bookmakers got that one right. Here’s a tip for starry-eyed young suitors: If your beloved’s face, or any other body parts appear plastic and mask-like; you might want to check out the material that her heart is made of before proposing.
On a local note, one of finalists for chief of police has dropped from the race. But, not to worry, another will pop up to fill the spot. This selection process is beginning to look a bit like the “Whac-A-Mole” arcade game. Let’s hope the final choice for this important position isn’t too punch-drunk to serve effectively.
Following the Republican candidates wishing for a presidential nomination can make even the most alert of us a bit punchy.
Herman Cain got the majority of the ink this week as his chief of staff, Mark Block (aka Marlboro Man), puffed on a cigarette in a campaign ad. So politically incorrect! This commercial’s image faded into a very close-up shot of Herman slowly forming a smile that would have made the Mona Lisa envious. I don’t suppose that smile lasted much longer, when accusations of sexual harassment surfaced. Some folks were probably just relieved to find out his taste runs to adult women.
In my first home, New Orleans, Halloween was an excuse for violence on a biblical scale. Even the Old Testament seldom had such bloodshed. Sixteen shootings (as I write this, two have died) in one weekend, bring new meaning to seasonal words like “horror” and “fear.” I remember when Halloween was fun, and fright was best experienced at the movies.
The fever must have affected my brain, because I just could not understand the outbreak of Amish-on-Amish crime. This one needs a more study.
I’m feeling a bit better now. My neighbor, “Farmer” Greg, is really a doctor. He gave me advice and a house call. You don’t get that kind of service anymore. However, after catching up on the news, I wanted to go back to bed and pull the covers over my head. That worked for my childhood night terrors. Too bad it doesn’t work for the terrible reality of adulthood.
Adele Elliott, a New Orleans native, moved to Columbus after Hurricane Katrina. Email reaches her at [email protected].
Adele Elliott, a New Orleans native, moved to Columbus after Hurricane Katrina.
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