Where I grew up…

While technically a suburb of New Orleans, Old Jefferson was really a small town when I was growing up.

When I was 18, I worked at the local K&B. We all had name tags that would say B.Blah (except y’know my real name). I had a customer come in one day and ask “Blah? Are you kin to Gabbity Blah?” I responded, “Yes, that’s my father.” The customer, an elderly man, said, “Your father?! That old coot. Can’t believe he has a daughter your age.” I replied, “oh wait, you mean my grandfather who is also named Gabbity Blah.”

The man hadn’t seen my grandfather in 50 years and didn’t know my Dad existed; he was 10 years younger than his only sister. But he knew the neighborhood, knew by my looks and name who I was.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s