I arrived at my hotel in Clearwater last night (if you’re in Florida, come see us on Saturday at the Matheos Hall, 409 Old Coachman Road). While I was checking in, I noticed a couple in the corner of the lobby at the computer desk – and they were looking at me. I have gotten used to this over the years – it is entirely possible that I could encounter a customer practically anywhere, and especially someplace where we have a show in a couple of days. And I always try to make sure I behave myself – my parents taught me that long ago.
So when this lady walked toward me, I figured I knew what was coming next. But I was wrong – what she said to me was “Aren’t you Joe Smallwood’s son?”
I’m 1,000 miles from home – this was the last thing I expected to hear. But it was certainly fun – this nice lady grew up with my dad and they were in the same grade (even took piano lessons together). We had a nice visit, and then I called Mom and Dad – and they roared with laughter when I got to the punch line.
On another note, my brother takes great pains to make sure I feel warm and comfortable when I’m in the south during the winter. Yesterday morning, he texted me this picture that he took in his front yard after a snowfall the night before . . .
The message was “Good morning from Ohio – I hope this picture makes you feel warm where you are.” Yesterday afternoon, I sent one back to him . . .
My message was “The ground is also white here.” And I was feeling rather pleased with my wit, until my phone buzzed again with his reply . . .
“I would have wiped the tear from my eye from laughing so hard, but it froze before I could.”
Blake wins . . .