Sgt. Who?

Many years ago when I worked downtown for the Houston Police Department one of the officers I was partnered with, Donnie White, had some rather interesting personal habits which annoyed folks. I won’t list them all; but one in particular, one which summed up his lasting respect for supervisors was “in tune” with my own sentiments. When either of us, how should I put this, would “pass wind” the other would immediately ask, “Sgt. Who?”

Donnie’s sense of humor was more warped than even my own, waiting for an elevator door to close prior to releasing such a burst of immodesty, then laughing until the next floor was reached while others in the elevator quietly endured. Some habits last long after they should have “evaporated” and I continue to ask, “Sgt. Who?” My grandchildren are amused; JJ at age 6 tells me, “That’s just a fart” while Jocelyne remarks, “Who?”, her little eyebrows jumping up and down as she smiles.

I got a YouTube video in my email, twice; once from Lucy and again this morning from Steve Sanders. What can I say, they know me.