The Istoriaphile’s Corner

I’m a fool for those that make me laugh.  If you want me to endorse a candidate, follow a flag, babysit kids or be nice to your Mama, make me giggle.  That’s been true for a long time and that’s why I champion Florence King.  I’ve never met the lady, don’t expect to meet her and I don’t endorse many of her positions but she has my undying devotion (and I read whatever she writes) because she tells a story well and her stories can make me laugh.    Florence is the ultimate outsider,  She comes by it genetically, according to her memoir, Confessions of a Failed Southern Lady.   Her mother, Louise, was the anti-Southern Belle who cursed, competed with men and avoided flirting like it was the plague.  Her father was a self-educated cockney musician who didn’t follow any of the practices associated with a Gentleman of the South. These two oddballs got along by accepting each other’s differences and their only child was Florence.  That girl puts them both in the shade. Imagine, if you will, a beautiful child who goes off to school wearing pinafore dresses and Mary Janes.  Her favorite beverage is black coffee, she already…