Funny memory


One of my earliest memories is of my mom and I coming home from Grandma’s house. I was little, maybe around 4 or 5. I was still riding in a car seat, and we were in her station wagon. It didn’t have air conditioning and the windows were down. Kids didn’t have to ride in the back seat by law yet so I was up front with her. We took our freeway exit and while sitting at the light, a man pulled up in a beat up old chevy who also had windows down. I looked him square in the eye and cried out, “Daddyyyyyyyyyyyyy.”

My mom didn’t even turn her head. She got a laser lock on the traffic light with her eyes, nary a muscle twitched on her face and flush began to spread over her face. 

It looked like this.

Trading Places-Nice Purse

Piggry Wiggry-san


My best friend was stationed in Misawa, Japan at Naval Air Station for 4 years. Every so often I would send him a tee shirt from the States, and passing through the uber southern state of South Carolina, I stopped at a Piggly Wiggly store to grab some things when I saw their “I’m big on the pig” tee shirt so bought one and sent it to him.

piggly wiggly tee shirtIt amused me to think of him wearing this shirt in a place where Asian folks LOVE to have clothing items with English on them, and I’m sure he was the singular person in the Asia Pacific region that would be sporting this baby out.

One night he wore the shirt out to Izakaya. Going out to Izakaya means going to the bar with friends to drink and socialize.

Most Japanese can speak a couple of words at English, and some are fairly decent at it, but virtually all of them struggle with the sound of the letter “R” which ends of being pronounced with the sound of the letter “L.”

By the end of the night, my buddy’s new Japanese friends couldn’t remember his name so they just called him, “Piggly Wiggly-san,” but they would pronounce it, “Piggry Wiggry-san.”

That amuses me to no end for no particular reason.

It’s the little things in life.

Piggy Wiggry-san…. Funny.

piggly-wiggly-logo

When I Was a Kid


Whenever my mom was done giving me a bath and dressing me in my jammies, my dad would sing a little song.

“I see your heinie.
All bright and shiny.
Every time you wiggle.
It makes me giggle.”

He also used to call me, “FrogMog.”