The Competition

Photo: My father, Jerry Willis. Don't let the suit and serious demeanor fool you. This man was a practical joker -- and B.S. artist -- of the highest order.

We all have our favorite holidays. Mine is Halloween. My father's was Christmas -- followed closely by April Fool's Day. You see, he was a practical joker.

Daddy hailed from Knoxville, Tenn., but he loved Biloxi, Point Cadet and my mother's family. And those he loved, he teased. A lot.

For practical jokers, the pay-off is all about the victim's big reaction. Aunt Marie, in particular, never failed to disappoint him. She laughed. She screamed. She cried. She wet her pants. Sometimes all at the same time.

Aunt Marie anticipated April Fool's Day (and Valentine's Day and her birthday) with a certain amount of trepidation. So would you if you suddenly starting getting anonymous ribald mash notes signed in a very familiar handwriting. Or if some crazy guy followed you around the grocery story, shouting in pig-Chinese.

Nona was another of Daddy's favorite victims. He called her Umpatilla (after the Alley Oop comic strip character) or Susie. I could never figure out the "Susie" thing, but then, I never understood why he called me Sam, either. He was big on nicknames.

Uncle Steve -- who had been on the receiving end of many of Daddy's jokes -- devised a clever plan that he believed would not only would turn some well-deserved tables, but better position him in a friendly ongoing competition between them.

Daddy and Uncle Steve each wanted to be Nona's second favorite son-in-law. They had no designs on the No. 1 position. Uncle Russ, who cut her grass, ran her errands and fixed stuff around the house, clearly had that position sewn up. They didn't want to work that hard.

On April Fool's Day Uncle Steve borrowed (on credit) an expensive and naughty, baby doll PJ set from a boutique downtown -- the perfect gift for a sweetheart, wildly inappropriate for a mother-in-law. He had it gift wrapped and delivered to my grandmother. Enclosed was a gift card signed "Guess Who, Susie?" in what appeared to my father's distinctive small handwriting and signature green ink. Uncle Steve spent weeks getting that handwriting just right.

Then he sat back and waited for the fireworks to begin.

He obviously had underestimated Nona's sang froid. No mention was made of the gift. It was never seen again. Uncle Steve had to pay for the set since he obviously couldn't blow his cover. Years later, my mom found that baby doll set, tags still attached, in Nona's cedar chest. Uncle Steve finally 'fessed up.

I love it. While Uncle Steve tried to punk Daddy, Nona, and by extension, Daddy managed to punk him. Daddy considered it his crowning achievement.

Besides pulling off the ultimate punk and becoming No. 2 son-in-law, Daddy's other lifelong quests included replicating the fountain drink Orange Julius. His version came pretty close to the real thing. As with all things he undertook, the quest was half the fun. And being around Daddy was always a whole lot of fun -- even if you were one of his victims.

Orange Julius

Daddy made several versions of this popular fountain drink -- all of them good -- but this one is closest to the real thing. I've seen similar versions that use powdered milk and vanilla instead of the vanilla pudding mix.

6 ounces of orange juice

6 ounces of water

3 ounces of simple syrup *

8 ounces, crushed ice

1 T instant vanilla pudding powder

Mix all in a blender and enjoy.

* 2 parts granulated sugar to 1 part water. Dissolve sugar in boiling water. When dissolved remove from heat and let cool.