The ‘White Insurance Man,’ walked into my grandparents’ home, removed the cardboard pouch, containing my grandparents’ life insurance policies, from the wall next to the front door. He turned to my grandfather, who was sitting on the sofa—his favorite spot—and addressed him with the same, geriatric salutation, he’d used 260 times before, “GOOD OLE CHARLIE BROWN!” My granddaddy’s name was “Charlie Brown;” Charlie James Brown, to be precise. The term, “GOOD OLE CHARLIE BROWN!” is one that the ‘White Insurance Man’ had obviously filched from the Sunday Newspaper comic strip entitled, “PEANUTS! Featuring, GOOD OLE CHARLIE BROWN.” My grandfather would respond to his exclamation with a mumbled, “Alright, Alright” (I wonder why old men always repeat things twice?) Anyway, I could never get a positively accurate read of Granddaddy’s expression, when responding to the ‘White Insurance Man.’ Even though he smiled—which he always did—I believe I could detect a flash…
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