… or, in this case, too lengthy to rudely take up all the space in someone else’s virtual living room.
You all know Aunt B. (You don’t?! Why?!)
She regularly makes multiple wise and important societal observations on her blog, on the Twitters and in the real world. She is a person always worth reading and, more importantly, knowing.
I often natter on in her comments sections. In this post (which I saw in its original tweets), she creates another of her patented thought-provoking commentaries.
I wish I could be as wise, socially aware and eloquent, but y’all know me. I ain’t.
So I focused on something I *could* comment on. And that’s what prompted this comment-turned-post of mine.
Now that you’ve read her post, I have to ask: Does *everyone* have a family story involving Dwight Yoakam?
I have a cousin, a long, lanky and equally laconic fellow, who inherited our grandfather’s sly sense of humor. Like one of the commenters at B’s place, we, too, were at a family dinner one Sunday. It had reached the menfolks-snoring-or-gently-arguing-in-the-den, women-trash-talking-at-the-table stage of the afternoon.
My cousin sauntered in, bored, looking for a biscuit. Granny pointed over to the stove, and J proceeded to Dwight-walk across the kitchen in his sock feet.
Like this, you know.
(In socks, now. Complete with bent knees at one point. Lordy.)
There was a shocked silence, then everybody either doubled over laughing or started applauding. We were so loud we woke the men up in the den.
J just smiled and Dwight-walked back out.
My grandmother finally spoke.
“WHAT was that?”
“Oh, he was dancing like Dwight Yoakam,” his mom said.
We took Granny in the den and changed the channel from the ball game to CMT. Strangely, after about three other videos, one of Dwight’s came up. (I don’t remember which one, but he was doing the slide-walk.)
Granny watched it.
“Where DID that boy find paint that color blue?” she asked when it was over.
Wicked, wicked Granny.
“Where DID that boy get paint that color?” has been a family joke ever since. Especially among us women. Because … you know.
We also use another Dwight-ism whenever somebody says “Hang on a minute”:
“Hang onto THIS, buddy.”