Return to TFB Main Page
Return to Current Edition
Texas Agriculture Archive

December 2, 2005

This week, Mel and I were talking and reminiscing. I asked him, "If I were going to write my very last column, what kinds of things do you think I should say?"

"Well, you shore wudn't want to ramble on an' on an' bore folks to tears lahk you usually do," Mel replied, with a daring grin.

"If it's boring, it's because of the subject matter," I countered. "After all, at least 95 percent of what I have written has been about you!"

"Yep, folks thank Ah'm the best thang since sliced bread," Mel said. Then he sighed. "Ah shore cain't figger out whah, with all the untrue an' unfair thangs you've wrote 'bout me over th' years."

"I don't recall writing anything about you that wasn't true. It may not have always been in context, but after all, you can only put so many details in a half-page column," I said.

"Yeah, but 'at li'l matter o' context makes all th' dif'ernce. You always manage to put me in a bad laht, th' way you tell it...luckily, folks can see raht through it an' recognahz Ah'm a true genius an' gentleman."

I rolled my eyes. "And an humble one at that. Seriously, what would be an appropriate farewell?"

"You'd want to make it short an' sweet...Ah reckon you'd want to start out by thankin' all 'em fahn folks that reads it fer toleratin' you so long. Fifteen years is a mahty long spell to put up with yore nonsense. Ah been endurin' it fer pert near 40 mahself. An' you would shore nuff want to thank all mah fans for the nice cards an' emails...Come to thank of it, you prob'ly should let me write it...

"An' another thang, you owe ever'body an apology fer bein' sich a turible speller. Wears me out trahin' to make heads er tails of it. Don't ya'll ever proof this column? Ain't choo ever heard o' spell check? Ever computer these days has got one. You make me sound lahk a pure-dy ol' country hick. Folks is always suprized, when they meet me in person, that Ah don't drool, an' that Ah can actually write mah name an' tie mah shoes."

Mel's tone suddenly became somber. "Ah'm kiney gittin' the idey that maybe yore serious. You ain't jist supposin' you wuz wrahtin' yore last column. You rilly are, ain't choo?"

"I'm afraid so," I told him.

Mel continued with his litany of complaints, mostly pointing out missed opportunities for me to cite his proudest achievements and acts of heroism. Lots of sentences starting with "But you ain't eben wrote about th' tahm ...." and "Too bad you didn't git to tell 'em 'bout..."

"Yes, it's a pity," I agreed.

"Well, we rilly did have some good tahms, didn't we? People treated us lahk royalty at the conventions an' gatherins'. Ah'm shore gonna miss that," he said, "an all 'at delicious, free food. If you'd have jist give me a li'l bit longer lead tahm, Ah cudda helped you write a doozy of a farewell."

"Well, I guess this one will just have to do. It's been a mutual admiration society. My readers are the best, and I'll miss them."

Mel grinned. "Me too, but now, without a tattle tale an' a gossip to rat on me. Ah won't have to be on mah best behavior 24/7!"