Dang Me

It was August in Michigan and the Jackson County Fair was in full swing.  The fair was alwaya the highlight of my summer growing up and that year was no exception.  My sister, Mary, whom I'd always thought of as pretty level-headed was positively giddy over the prospect of seeing Roger Miller's grandstand show.  She thought him super talented and down right gorgeous.  The talented part I agreed with, but then I was a teenager who really didn't think someone of his age all that hot.  Mary is ten years older than me and was a young widow with three children at the time.

The day dawned bright and beautiful and we headed for the fair.  It was an afternoon show so we had plenty of time to take in the exhibits and such before heading for the grandstand.  We found seats that were close, but not too close just before the opening acts came on.  We watched them with mild entusiasm.  Then Roger came on.  He sang and cut-up with the audience telling stories and jokes to everyone's delight.  I kept urging my sister to get closer and take a picture, but she wouldn't.  For some reason, she became super shy all of a sudden.  Then he asked for a volunteer from the audience to taste his drink and verify that it was just water.  That's when I yelled.

"My sister will do it.  She loves you."

If my sister could've sunk into the bleachers she would have right after she killed me.  Roger on the other hand never missed a beat as he called back.

"My wife and I love you too.  Thanks for being here today."

You know, Mary hasn't taken me to another show or concert since.  I wonder why.