Miscellaneous

To Tell The Truth

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

Written for Kymber’s Get To Know You #55.
What Are Two Truths And A Lie?
Here’s my response.

© Kevin @ The Beginning At Last

This week Kymber is asking us to list two truths and one lie about ourselves. You already know a lot about me, so let’s see what I can come up with.

  1. My face was once burned when the flames from a faulty oven shot out at me.
  2. One semester in college I took pottery classes and dreamed of having my own pottery studio.
  3. I was once kissed on the lips by the lead singer of a rock band during a concert.

There you have my two truths and one fib. Which is the little white lie?

Thanks to Kymber for a fun prompt!

NAR©2025

This is “Lies” by the Knickerbockers

Get to Know You #55

All text and graphics are copyright for Nancy’s Notes 🖊️🎶, The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk, The Rhythm Section, et al., and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.

55 thoughts on “To Tell The Truth”

  2. The knickerbockers kicked ass with that song. Most believed they were English, sort of like The Sir Dougles Quintet, which was from San Antonio. I once met Janet Joplin standing in line to buy a hot dog at Texas International Pop Festival, 1969. Our bands management company got us backstage passes to a Cream concert in 68, I met Eric Clapton and he gave me a guitar pick. I met Jayne Mansfield when I was a kid. My blog is full of Tall Tales, figure this one out.

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    1. The Knickerbockers, intentionally or not, had everyone thinking they were the Beatles. It really is a kick ass song!
      I remember the wife of one of your neighbors was the spitting image of Jayne M so it’s very possible you met her …. and Janis and Eric. Here’s the thing, Phil, which you already know: when you’re in the storytelling business like you and me, folks will believe just about anything if presented in the right way. Brilliant, ain’t I?

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      1. Okay, I will fess up. Yes, I do write many stories that would be considered, Tall Tales and Ripping Yarns, but I am innocent of writing down-right lies. My late uncles, the best liars and spinners of yarns, educated me well on those dark nights out in the country, sitting on that farmhouse porch. I soaked up every tale. My neighbor did look a lot like Jane Mansfield, that was my parents’ observation since I was a kid and had no idea who the actress was. I did meet Janis Joplin, in line for a hot dog. This chick came up and asked to cut in line, and of course, I said yes. It took me a few minutes to realize who she was, then, being the 60s, and at a rock festival, I was too cool to make a slobbering fool of myself. She did make small talk and was friendly and unassuming. She remarked it was good to be back in Texas and a few other things. Got her dog and coke, thanked me and headed back behind the stage. A few hours later, she was up their blowing the roof off of the place, that actually was outside with no roof. I did get to go backstage at the Cream concert and met the band. They were all so full of crap and uppity, it was a big letdown. In the early 60s, around 1960, my father played with the Light Crust Doughboys, the famous Texas western swing band. They were booked to play a private party on LBJs ranch in Johnson city in the hill country. My father often dragged me along, and this was one of those times. Jayne Mansfield was a party guest there to shmooz with the attendees. Her hometown was Dallas, so she knew of the band and went kind of googa over them. I met her for a moment and thought she was beautiful. That’s when I realized my mother was spot on with our neighbor, Mrs. Mister, looking like Jayne. All true stuff, but if I wasn’t the one telling it, I would think it was all BS.

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        1. This is so fabulous, I actually could have written it myself! And I believe you, Phil, because you said it’s true and I take you at your word which is more than I can say for some people on WP. A while back I wrote a story about sitting next to Barbara Sinatra at one of Frank’s dinner performances. She and I struck up a conversation and she brought me and Bill backstage after the show to meet Frank. She thought he’d like to meet another Nancy. Anyway, he kissed my hand and said “How ya doin’, doll” and two minutes later it was all over. See, here’s what I’m getting at: one of my readers didn’t believe my story. Even after I told her it was true, not one little bit made up, she questioned the veracity of it. What can you do? I wasn’t going to beg her to believe me; her mind was made up. Yeah, we’re storytellers and lots of times we tell tall tales. It’s called ‘fiction’. But, like you, I have never lied in my stories. Jeez! Some people! Thanks, Phil.

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          1. Meeting Frank, now that’s something to brag about, and you should. My son was skiing in Lake Tahoe three weeks ago and he and his friends went to the Cal-Neva lodge. He said it was going back to the Rat Pack days of the 50s, and Franks pictures were everywhere. Yeah, a lot of folks don’t believe my stories about the music business and such, but it doesn’t faze me, I was there and done it. I grew up in the music business so I had the chance to meet and be friends with many of the greats in country music. Did Frank offer you a cocktail? I read that he liked bourbon on the rocks. A note, Eric Clapton was a rude dick.

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            1. Frank did not offer us drinks but he had one of his own and it looked damn good, too! That’s very disappointing to hear about Clapton. I just happen to be one of those people who is in the right place at the right time when it comes to meeting celebrities. I’m not complaining and anyone who does complain about it is just jealous. Not my problem.

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  13. Oh man, this one’s hard! I definitely could see you maybe getting a smooch from a lead singer lol 😆 but I could see the oven thing (unfortunately!) too! I’ll go with the pottery one, for whatever reason.

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        1. I suppose that’s true! This happened years ago, even before I was married. A friend and her boyfriend were living in a cheap apartment. We were cooking one night and the thermostat on the oven was faulty. It was one of those old gas ovens. I set the thermostat to what I thought was 350 but it was obviously much higher. When I opened the door and lit the match to light the oven, the gas that had built up inside shot out and the match in my hand became a torch. Someone kicked the oven door closed. The curtain behind me went up in flames. My hand and face were burned. I was wearing a thin gold choker around my neck which became red hot and I tore it off. My hair was pretty well singed and my eyebrows were gone but my eyelashes and eyelids were saved because I instinctively closed my eyes very tightly. My boyfriend drove me to the hospital and I remember riding with my face out the window! I was treated immediately at the hospital. Fortunately I was not badly burned. Immediate treatment was ice water soaks and an antibacterial ointment. I suffered no scars and my eyebrows eventually grew back. It was quite a night!

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          1. Whew!!! 😳 Omg I was cringing the whole time reading that!! Oh man, how awful but thankfully you weren’t burned badly and were treated immediately! Amazing and so thankful you have no scars! 🙏 I’ll say this but omg what a freakin shitshow, holy crap! I have one of those little convection ovens that I’ve been using for a minute that I keep saying I need to replace because I can’t read the temp (stupid digital crap goes faulty in just a few years!) and it gets way way too hot sometimes, now I’m even more motivated to replace it! Yikes 😬 🙏

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            1. Yes, you must! As a nurse, Laura, I’m sure you’ve seen burn victims. I count myself incredibly lucky to have escaped unscathed. I developed a great respect for fire after that and, while I’m not fearful of fire in every day life (campfires, fireplaces, barbecues, etc), the one thing I fear more than anything is a house fire.

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