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Smiley Anders has been writing a column six days a week for The Advocate since 1979.
Smiley, who received B.A. and M.A. degrees in journalism from LSU, joined The Advocate in 1973 as business reporter after a 13-year career as a business journalist (he was oil and gas editor of The Shreveport Times and edited business publications for the Louisiana Farm Bureau and Baton Rouge Chamber of Commerce).
His column has won first place in the items category of the National Society of Newspaper Columnists' annual competition (the Herb Caen Award) on four occasions (in 1985, 1997, 2004 and 2005). He was named the first "Communicator of the Year" in 1975 by the Public Relations Association of Louisiana. He served as president of the Press Club of Baton Rouge in 1976 and 1996.
He is married to the former Katherine Scales. He has two children and six grandchildren.
Send your e-mail items for Smiley’s column to smiley@theadvocate.com or call him at (225) 388-0639.
I just got the news about Pink @ the Polls ’08, and I’m concerned. As you might recall, the previous election to choose Baton Rouge’s coolest guy featured Mayor Kip Holden, Police Chief Jeff LeDuff, LSU women’s basketball coach Van Chancellor, WAFB-TV anchor and investigative reporter Paul Gates, and me.
About the governor’s bedtime
Dear Smiley: The death of Paul Newman brought back memories of the actor when he was here for the filming of “The Long, Hot Summer” in 1957. In those days I was a newspaperman and usually short of cash.
I felt this little story was worth recycling: Becky Caruso says, “Once again the presidential election is near. “In October 1996 I sent a little story about my daughter’s take on the election of that year. Here it is: ..."
I find the idea that this column might be educational a bit alarming. But Carol Babb, the gifted resources teacher at Cedarcrest-Southmoor Elementary, used my “hurricane haiku” to teach her third-, fourth- and fifth-grade classes how to compose their own poems in the Japanese manner.
Susan tells of how thoughtful LSU fans were on the Friday afternoon before the Mississippi State game, providing free music to the folks from our neighboring state: “I was heading home from work on Interstate 10 east near College Drive."
When I took note of Fran Spain’s 94th birthday in June, I mentioned, as I often did, that (1) she was the best speaker I ever heard and (2) I had a long-standing crush on her (my wife, who knew Fran, approved). I didn’t realize that it would be the last birthday greeting to her that I would run.
I don’t want to start any domestic disputes, but I’ve noticed something about women that doesn’t seem to apply to men. Gents, have you ever awakened to discover that your lady was miffed at you — about something you’ve done in her dream?
Dear Smiley: My friend Sandy Macmurdo lives in University Acres, which was one of the last neighborhoods to have its power restored. By Wednesday, Sept. 17, all but five houses in the subdivision had power, and three men from Entergy worked all morning to get the last five houses up and running.
I’ve been keeping up with the financial meltdown in a desultory manner (as the philosopher Bob Dylan says, when you got nothing, you got nothing to lose). I wasn’t too worried about it, trusting the leaders of this great nation to take care of the economy like they’ve taken care of everything else over the past few years.
Steve Davison’s little story illustrates how Gustav affected our vocabularies: “My neighbors George and Melanie Clark and their young sons Taylor and Colin were without power, so I fed them an extension cord from my generator."
Julaine Schexnayder, of New Iberia, says that in the 1960s and ’70s, Irvin “Coach” Moceri “had the dubious task of molding a bunch of small town boys into Jeanerette High School football players and young men. My husband, Isby, was one of them.”
Becky Williams says she now believes in the accuracy of Chinese fortune cookie predictions: “Our house had four trees land on it during Gustav, and thus there is a lot of reconstruction to be done. “We went to the Great Wall one evening for dinner soon after Gustav, and would you believe my fortune read ‘Redecorating is in your plans’!”
We need a change of topics — something besides Gustav and Ike. How about the worst pop song you ever heard?
Dear Smiley: I tutored reading at an elementary school last year, twice a week for an hour. One time I helped the overrun, overwrought, underpaid librarian with a particularly wild class. It included four fourth-grade boys, all smart-asses, ready for anything but a rawhide tough old teacher.
Kristen Spring says, “I can’t help but wonder what the National Hurricane Center is thinking when they pick the names for possible hurricanes each year. “Does Gustav sound like a nice person? No, he sounds like a bloodthirsty dictator, eager to leave a path of destruction.
Jackie Upton says, “I’ve been reading my e-mails from friends all over the country. “Two sentiments occur: ‘Hope you come through this safely’ and ‘Why in the heck do you still live down there?’ “The first is appreciated, and the second takes a little thought."
Charles Allen, of Amelia, says our current hurricane season brings to mind a conversation that took place on the marine radio during Hurricane Andrew...
Michel Fourrier offers “a word to the (storm) wise: “Plastic political yard signs make excellent roof patching material. They are easy to handle, last forever and I feel they hold the water better than political promises.”
My current wife, Lady Katherine, is one of those snooty English majors, so I should have known she’d find fault with my recent “hurricane haikus.”
Dear Smiley: As I was looking for ways to pass the time while caught in the early gridlock from New Orleans the Saturday morning before Gustav, I began to ponder what was REALLY important to people as I examined what they had packed. One Jeep managed to tie down to the cargo rack TEN suitcases — of beer.
Back in June I wrote about Landon Maher, 15, and his upbeat outlook despite the numerous surgeries related to his spina bifida. I described him as the funniest — and bravest — guy I knew. Life dealt him a lousy hand, but if he ever felt sorry for himself I never saw it. On Tuesday Landon, my grandson, went in Tuesday for yet another operation.
One of the complaints I’ve heard from readers is about the lack of national news coverage on how Louisiana residents are coping after the devastation of Gustav. So I was glad to see the Sept. 9 New York Times story that colleague Ed Cullen sent over to me.
Several readers who described their post-Gustav experiences felt that the storm had transported them to another, simpler time. For instance, Annie Fugler of Denham Springs wrote on the sixth day of no power (“no generator, no radio, no TV, no computer, no lights, no phone for most of that time, no BlackBerry, no fan even).”
I remember the old Western movies when, at some critical point, the telegraph operator would stop pounding away on his key and shout, “They’ve cut the line!”
I’ve received several comments about my “hurricane haiku” poems in the Friday column. But I’m going to continue them anyhow. …
Dear Smiley: With all the hype given to the crab fishermen and truckers driving across the ice on reality television, I’d like to throw another group into the mix: the electrical linemen.
