Thanks a million

Thanks to my mother’s side of the family, I have relatives in just about every nook and cranny of South Georgia.

In the little town of Bainbridge, which is about as South Georgia as you can get before you enter a zone the locals call “SOGANOFLA” (South Georgia/North Florida), I have about a dozen assorted cousins.

My mother was born in Bainbridge. My grandfather is buried in the city cemetery. I know some of my kinfolk better than others. Some are very close on the family tree. Others are distant.

We stay in touch with a Christmas card or see each other at the family reunion.

But I just might have to pick up the phone and call ALL of them this afternoon.

Remember me?

I will ask them how they have been, what ails them and if there is anything I can do for them.

Can’t hurt.

Yes, I have a motive. Word is out someone in this pretty little town of 11,000 is holding the winning $163 million Mega Millions lottery ticket.

Since I have a dozen kinfolk down there, I figure I’ve at least got some odds.

Of course, they would have to admit to having been to the Little Brown Jug package store over on Scott Street. That’s not necessarily a business where my relatives hang out, but I have a cousin who lives about four blocks from there, so maybe she just happened to be in the neighborhood.

One of my cousins, Ralph Smith, is a judge there and one of the town’s most respected citizens.

But, just in case one of them is $163 million richer this morning, it won’t hurt to call and tell them how much I love them.