HE BE BUBBA

In the 40-plus years of living in the South, I have met a lot of guys called "Bubba". It's a bit more common nickname than people realize. Even President Clinton was a "Bubba".

For a lot of people these days, hearing about someone having the name "Bubba" is an indication the name holder is to be considered somewhat of a "redneck, good old Southern boy". Not so with MY Bubba.

My friend Steve is in no way like a "Bubba". Not even close. Put him in a line up of "Bubba's". He wouldn't even be picked. Still, for too many years, I have called him BUBBA.

I give people nicknames all the time. [Gosh. I am just like the last President Bush.] I don't know why. Maybe parents should come to me to help me name their kids. Besides Steve being called Bubba, there is Wemus, Monkey Paws, Cratsley, Number One & a host of others. Even my cats names have nicknames.

I don't remember really why I started calling Steve ... Bubba. As pointed out ... he's not one. I think it was because when we worked together in Memphis, he lived up in Covington, Tennessee. Quite a long commute to/from work. Something to do with his living in rural Tennessee ?? I don't remember.

Bubba & I are opposites in so many ways, starting with politics. He's also quiet & keeps to himself. I am loud & obnoxious. I like living on my own, by myself. Bubba is a family man who, along with his wife Teresa ["The Bubbette"] has raised two kids, both who are now Dentists. No dummies in that family. [There are also three WILD grandsons, who they love & adore.]

I consider Bubba a GOOD FRIEND. I don't have a lot of friends, but those I do, I cherish & try to keep special to me. When Steve retired from Maybelline in North Little Rock a few years ago -- yes, he retired, I got pushed -- he & Teresa moved to Springville, Tennessee [on the Tennessee River]to be closer to family. I wish they had not moved so far away.

Like the good friend he is, Bubba helped me out in 2007 when I had my heart surgery. He, along with Kenny, came to the hospital the first day & got my truck out of the hospital garage & took it back home. Bubba also came to visit/stay with me as I was taken to surgery the next morning. He was the "contact" for the hospital & kept up on my condition, to alert my Mother & friends.

I found out later, Bubba came to my house each day to feed the stray cat on my front porch. [Precious was nursing one kitten -- Nibblets. I still did not consider her "my cat" at the time. Little did I know. I guess I can blame all three cats on Bubba.]

Yes, Bubba -- the nickname stuck & a LOT of people know him by that name -- is NOT a "Bubba" as the nickname would indicate. He's so much more than that. He's a gentleman ... a kind man ... and ... he's my friend. [Plus the nickname "Elvis" -- because of his neatly combed hair (another difference between us) -- just didn't work for me.] So ... he's BUBBA !!