Stupidity should be painful and untreatable

For years, my favorite columnist was Lewis McDonald Grizzard, Jr., but he up and died and broke my heart. That is not my line, but it comes from an article Lewis wrote about his beloved black lab, Catfish.

Lewis Grizzard for many years wrote a column for the Atlanta Journal and Constitution, and it was picked up and run in newspapers throughout the country. He combined his columns into several books. He died at the age of 47 in 1994.

Like I said, Grizzard used many of his columns in the several books he published. The titles of the books (I have all of them in my library) are every bit as enjoyable as the books and often convey great truths in themselves. The titles include Chili Dawgs Always Bark at Night, I Haven’t Understood Anything Since 1962, Don’t Bend Over In the Garden Granny, You Know Them Taters Got Eyes, and If I Ever Get Back to Georgia, I’m Gonna Nail My Feet to the Ground.

The South…that was Lewis. He was Moon Pies, Coca-Cola, BBQ, magnolias, boiled peanuts, college football, fried catfish, and more. If it was Southern, it was Lewis; if it was Lewis, it was Southern.

Since Lewis left us so early in life, I found another favorite columnist. She is Rheta Grimsley Johnson from Fishtrap Hollow, Mississippi – not far from here. Her column appears in the daily papers every Sunday. I can’t wait each Sunday morning to find her column and see what she is writing about that week.

 

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