Jill's Journal: Keep your hands to yourself

By: 
Jill Meier, Journal editor
I can’t imagine that any mom and dad never uttered those famed words – “Keep your hands to yourself” – to their youngsters at one time or another.
Mine did. As the younger sister of just one brother, we heard those words – often. Remember the weekend trips to grandma and grandpa’s, and for whatever reason, there was a magical line that was drawn right up the middle of the backseat of every family car we had. The line I speak of is the one my dear brother and I crossed on many a trip. And of course, the usual response from the front seat was, “Keep your hands to yourself.”
For just a fraction of a moment last week, I tossed those wise words to the side, and I reached out and touched someone, who as it turns out, I didn’t know at all.
The snafu occurred just a few minutes after I had plunked myself down in one of the cushy seats at the Brandon Valley Performing Arts Center last Thursday night. I was there to capture the Fine Arts Booster Club’s annual variety show in photos. As I surveyed the folks within an arm’s reach of my seat, I took notice of the gentleman sitting directly in front of me. I know that “hair-challenged head” I thought to myself.
About the same time that I’d decided I knew who was sitting in the seat right ahead of me, he began to rub his scalp. 
So, being the helpful kind of gal that I like to be, I thought I’d assist him.
You can imagine my surprise when the guy who sitting in the seat right ahead of me turned out not the be the “hair-challenged head” I thought it to be.
I’m pretty sure my face turned fire-engine red.
“Oh, no!” I sheepishly blurted out, “I thought you were Tim Sylliaasen!”
Of course, he wasn’t.
As it turns out, the guy said he knew Tim, and fortunately, he had a good sense of humor, kindly accepted my apology and laughed off the whole invasion of his privacy.
Then I sat back, grabbed my camera out of the bag, giggled a few more times and decided it was best to keep my hands to myself just like my mom and dad so wisely told me to do so many decades ago.

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The Brandon Valley Journal

 

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