Miss Lard. Chapter 577.

Regular readers know that I often refer to Mrs. Peel, who I adore. I rarely refer to Miss Lard. Yeah. Really. That is her real name. I would get married if I was her. Pronto.

Unfortunately, all the good prospects are taken. Ask Mrs. King.

Miss Lard is not fat. In fact she needs to take her pants to the tailor to get them taken in.

Can you imagine growing up with the last name Lard?

My last name is King so I find this totally baffling. I cannot imagine it. I still cannot wrap my mind around it. What kind of a last name is Lard? I much prefer King. Heck, I’d prefer Hobnail, or Spigot, or Pug.

I normally tell young people to not be tempted to change their name, but, instead, to grow into the name they were born with, but, man, with a last name like Lard—that is a name that builds chutzpah.

Miss Lard wears it well, with good cheer. She has the prettiest gums.

If I cannot knock boots with Mrs. Peel, I will knock boots with Miss Lard. It is rare when Mrs. Peel and I are needed. We are thinking of meeting up soon in Laurel, Mississippi. It is a town featured on a TV show.

I have passed through Laurel four times. It may be time for a fifth visit and more than a pass-through. It depends on what Mrs. Peel and I are needed for.

Miss Lard and I not needed. She is very, very, busy, with a very, very complicated life. With a last name like Lard, what would you expect?

I have spent the past few days thinking about it, off and on. I cannot think of a worse last name for a person to have, except of the obvious.

Children can be so cruel.

So, to get back to New Orleans-specific things, we went to Liuzza’s-by-the-Track. Let me tell you about that…