Published: October 06, 2009 12:39 am      

WHITE-WALKER: Move over, Barney

You know when people are hilarious? When they don’t know they’re hilarious.

One such colorful character lives in my little, sleepy lakeside village and at first, I thought I was the only one who saw the parallel between this hysterically funny man and fictional Deputy Barney Fife. But, no, my daughter witnessed him in action and she’s still laughin’, no lie. We really feel he should charge an entertainment fee, but he would be baffled, because like I said, he doesn’t know he’s fodder for the funny papers.

“Mother, you’re not really going to write about him, are you? I mean, what if he’s embarrassed, or too private a person to be in a column that is read by so many people?”

“So many people? Name three,” I laughed. “Besides, I’m asking for his permission to write about him, and I’m absolutely, positively not mentioning his name.”

“Dudley, may I do a characterization of you in my column?”

C’mon readers, that’s such a common name, you’ll never ever guess who it is.

“Write anything you want,” he replied so matter-of-factly, like a woman waving a pen and paper under his nose never would bother him.

“Sure you don’t mind?”

“Got nothin’ to hide,” he called back as he hightailed it down the road on his bike.

He’s an older man, slight of build, and constantly wears only camouflage with one of those wide-brimmed jungle hats. He might be able to hide in the bushes during hunting season, but there’s no way he can disguise his endearing personality.

You know when people have such endearing personalities? When they don’t know they have such endearing personalities.

A few months ago, our little town was hosting a big summer event. People came in droves, and it was Dudley who was in charge of the traffic. Dudley, who doesn’t even drive, directing traffic. Fearlessly, he stood in the middle of the road and God help you if you even thought of inching your vehicle along without the wave of his arm granting you permission. His stoic, no-nonsense glare was reminiscent of Grant Wood’s “American Gothic” — you know, that famous painting with that stern older man holding a pitchfork? Believe me, your quivering car stayed frozen to the payment until you were given absolute clearance. I tell you, put Dudley on Border Patrol and there won’t be one illegal immigrant setting even a baby toe on American soil!

He was flagging his arms faster than a windmill caught in a hurricane but, God bless him, he had everything under control. But that might not have been the case if, moments later, I had given in to the convulsive laughter building up into my throat, or allowed my laughing tears to blur my vision, for when it was my turn at the intersection to go, he kicked up his heels and gave me a salute reserved and only worthy enough for the likes of General Patton.

Dudley takes his job, civic duties and friendships so seriously, like the fictional Barney. Only Dudley is the real thing.

“Got nothin’ to hide,” he says, and there he is outfitted in his camouflage. My dear readers, can’t you see the humor even in that?

They say, “A day without laughter is a day without sunshine.” I did say I live in a little, sleepy, sunny lakeside village, didn’t I?

Karen White-Walker is a Wilson resident. Her column runs every Tuesday. To read past columns, visit homegrownharvard.blogspot.com.