The Grand Inquisitor has a sense of humor

One morning at the Godly hour of 5:30 or so when I met several of my walking buddies at our accustomed staging area, one held up a sign to me that said something like:

"Yes."
"No."
"Yes."
"Yes."
"Maybe."
"I don't know."

Her message was aimed at me because of the constant barrage of questions I ask each day. She didn't welcome early morning inquisitions so she made up universal answers to whatever questions I might ask.

Where did this come from? Somewhere in my past I was told that young ladies (this is a very old message) ask others about themselves. This was advised as a helpful tool for getting boys to like me. (Do you want to ask how well that worked?)

Add that to my being a journalist/writer/personal historian and you can see I am more accustomed to asking questions than answering. I honestly don't know how to make conversation without questions.

Do you? What do you say? Could I learn to do that too? Will you teach me how? (A joke.)

My mom used to sparkle in the morning and be really chatty. She'd make us a full breakfast -- whatever we asked for -- each day. Then she wanted to talk, something that my brother and I did not. We preferred to read the St. Louis Globe-Democrat, the morning paper, than to talk to our mother.

One morning after my brother was away at college, Mom wore a dress, high heels, earrings and pearls to breakfast. I looked up, or perhaps growled up, and asked what was going on.

"I thought if I dressed like Donna Reed you'd pay attention to me," she said, referring to one of the great moms of '60s television. I laughed. For one day she got me. I'm not sure about the next.

Incidentally, in my family we have a joke about "Precious not wanting to sweat." It's funny because I'm not exactly the Precious type.

One day at a book fair at our kids' elementary school, that same friend who had held up the sign made a great find, the book, Who Killed Precious?

Apparently that Precious asked one too many questions.

I, on the hand, continue to ask questions, something that is critical for a personal historian. If you don't ask, you don't hear the stories. And unquestionably, I love a good story.

Hopefully, it won't kill me.