My friend, the Earl of Stumpworth by the Ochlocknee, and I were wondering about some stuff the other day. He was smoking his pipe which generally puts him in the mode of deep thought. And he often draws me into that cerebral abyss.

He asked me, right out of the blue, if I had ever met an “incomplete stranger.”

I thought about it for a moment. I had met lots of “complete” strangers. And I told him I didn’t know where the “complete stranger” description came from — that it probably was first uttered in some legal document where the writer was getting paid by the word. And upon that note, I asked him what was the difference between a “legal pad” and an “illegal pad?”

He thought for a minute and decided an illegal pad would be one upon which a bank heist was planned. Or, he said, it could be a house of prostitution.

And then we both wondered if anyone has ever given a lottery ticket as a gift and then that person who received it actually won the lottery. And we wondered if the person who gave it had quit drinking yet.

It was about then that The Earl’s wife, The Earlene, seeing how taxed we were in deep thought, brought us a pitcher of lemonade. And then she handed us a list of things that probably few people know and suggested that we ponder them.

And so we did.

Did you know that the longest one-syllable word in the English language is “screeched?” And did you know that “dreamt” is the only English word that ends in the letters “mt?”

I had never thought about any of this. And I don’t really know what this kind of information can do for one. And then it hit me that someone actually had to think about and corroborate this stuff, none of which has any practical application nor does it have any socially redeeming value. What I mean is, if you’re stuck in a deep crevice, none of this information will help get you out. I can’t imagine any of it helping you get an ox out of the ditch. And the chances of one knowing this stuff and being a contestant on Jeopardy is really slim.

On that list The Earlene gave us was the fact that an ostrich’s eye is bigger than its brain. I guess this is good to know if Big Bird runs for office. In fact, I’ve seen a couple of instances (I won’t call any names or which election) when it might have been equally applied in human terms.

And did you know that the little dot on top of an “i” is called a “tittle.” I have always called them dots. I’ve always heard that one should “dot his i’s and cross his t’s.” I’ve never heard anyone say that you should “tittle your i’s.” Sounds a little kinky. The Earlene’s list didn’t tells us what the crossbar on the top of the “t” is called. A federally funded study might give us that answer, however.

And so Alfred Hitchcock didn’t have a belly button. It was eliminated when he was sewn up after surgery. I once heard a couple of drunks arguing the rules of hopscotch, but I’ve never heard of Alfred Hitchcock’s belly button coming up in conversation. Actually, I never saw him with his shirt off.

Did you know that Donald Duck’s middle name is Fauntleroy? Honestly, I would never have wondered about that. Although I had a good friend who might have pondered it. He was a little strange anyway. His favorite number was 17.4. And he had a pet gold fish he took for walks. By the way, a pregnant goldfish is called a “twit.” I’ve heard people called “twits” but I’ve never heard anyone called a pregnant goldfish.

Now back to that thing about meeting an “incomplete stranger. “ I have met a few people who weren’t all there. And since I didn’t know them initially, I suppose they technically would have been classified as “incomplete strangers.”



(Dwain Walden is editor/publisher of The Moultrie Observer, 985-4545. E-mail:dwain.walden@gaflnews.com)