DailySusan Humor Blog

MISS PEARL

Our two older daughters, Jordan and Neely, are in New York City this weekend, having the first of what we hope are many great experiences in The Big Apple.

My first trip there was as a fashion reporter for my hometown newspaper. I attended a week of style shows at the fall fashion press previews at the Plaza Hotel. It was a little different than the courthouse beat, although I still saw crimes and misdemeanors among the fashions. I had a marvelous time.

My favorite memory was an early-morning trade-show breakfast in the fabulous ballroom. It was sponsored by the Pearl Institute. Naturally, there would be modeling of pearl jewelry while the reporters ate. It was shameless promotion. But it was also free breakfast. So we all went.

I, however, had been partying the night before, and overslept. I barely combed my hair, had my big thick glasses on, and wore a frumpy Nebraska-y outfit, the last one I had left, since it was the last day. I hurried down to the ballroom. I was the very last person to arrive, among hundreds.

The only seat left was ‘way up at the front. Mysteriously, there seemed to be 18 “suits” there, and one voluptuous young woman in a slinky azure gown with a plunging decolletage, showing off some gigantic pearls . . . around her neck and wrist, that is, and pearl ear-boulders, too.

I sat down. Suddenly, spotlights whirled around the room. The person at the mike said, “And now . . . introducing . . . the most beautiful woman in the world . . . the one . . . the only . . . Miss Pearl!”

The spotlights zeroed in on our table. The 18 “suits” looked over at the beauty; they were apparently the Pearl Institute executives who were paying for all this.

Well, I couldn’t help myself. Basking in the spotlight, I got up out of my chair . . . and waved to the confused crowd . . . in my uncombed hair, thick glasses and Nebraska-y outfit . . . with nary a decolletage nor a pearl in sight.

I was the only one in the ballroom who laughed at my little -- very little -- joke. But at least I had fun.

New York! New York! If you can make it (as Miss Pearl) there, you’ll make it anywhere . . . if you can make it out of the ballroom before 18 furious Pearl Institute “suits” beat you up.

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Prayer request: We lift up to You for protection Jordan and Neely during their exciting adventure in New York City, Lord. Thank You for making them so level-headed and strong-spirited, and let them have fun! (Haggai 2:4c)

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FOR THURSDAY, JULY 8

BROTHERHOOD OF THE CORN

Had a nice note from a new reader, a resident of a beautiful town in California who grew up in Nebraska’s Buffalo County. He says he’s still a Cornhusker.

It’s the same way with my brother Danny. He’s a longtime California resident who has now lived in Boston for several years. All along, this University of Nebraska-Lincoln graduate has worn his Nebraska pride on his sleeve . . . or up a 30-foot pole, which is where he flies his gigantic inflatable Herbie Husker on game days.

He used to run Herbie up that pole outside his house in Orange County, Calif., since he lived near a big Interstate. It was amazing how many people honked.

He happened to live next door to another transplanted Nebraskan, who had worked for legendary N.U. strength coach Boyd Epley and had moved on to the Anaheim Angels. The two of them conspired on many N.U. hijinks and enjoyed the company of Nebraska-generated pro baseball star Darin Erstad, among others, rooting on the home team whenever games were televised, which was often.

But you have to be careful when you marry out of the family. Danny’s lovely wife is a Massachusetts product. While she’s supportive of his fervor for his alma mater, she doesn’t quite understand it.

One time, she raced upstairs, screaming bloody murder. “DANNY! There’s a MAN in the downstairs shower! He’s got a KNIFE!!! RUN!!!”

Shades of “Psycho”! REET! REET! REET! REET!

It was just Danny’s inflatable Herbie Husker, holding aloft -- what else? – an inflatable corn cob. Danny had stashed him in the never-used downstairs shower in between games, because he was too lazy to deflate him.

What’s really crazy is that SHE was the one who felt SILLY and DEFLATED about it. That’s the Brotherhood of the Corn for you: pride and chutzpah that refuse to be husked.

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Prayer request: Two extra-special people -- Caroline and Jeff -- have job interviews today. Thank You for these opportunities, Father. We pray to You, Jehovah-jireh (the Lord will provide), to put the sparkle in their eyes and the words in their mouths that will make the best possible impression. And if it be Your will for them to land these jobs, we pray that everything will fall into place so perfectly that they’ll know Who the real recruitment director was, and praise You for it. (Gen. 22:14)