Dear Crabby,

Last night I went to a pow-wow. Before I left the house, I spiffed up my braids, grabbed my flute, in case anyone called on me to play a special song, and went out the door. I thought I looked like "the hunk" who had arrived on the scene with my cowboy boots and leather vest and cowboy hat with the beaded hat band.

Well, after a while I did get called on and I played my own rendition of an old-time "down by the river" type of love song. There were chicks about and I was secretly hoping to mate with one of them. Afterwards, well to make a long story short, I went outside to smoke and was standing in sort of shadows when I heard some women talking and my ears perked up when I heard "flute music" mentioned.

I strained my ears with hope in my heart to hear what they were saying. I couldn't believe what I heard. My ears slowly turned red and my heart began to pound in my chest. I was chagrined to the highest heavens.

They said, "Yeah, he played OK, but did you see what was behind him when he got done?"

The other woman said she didn't notice, she was busy looking at the cute guy in the drum group.

The first one said, "Well, when he turned and walked away amid the applause, I noticed he had a poop stain on the seat of his pants."

I quickly grabbed my butt and felt dried cow poop.

I was so shocked I began to realize that I still had on my work pants. Earlier I had backed into a rump of a cow and they always have cow poop still stuck to them.

How can I save face and go out in public again after this episode? I'm so ashamed to even think about it. I need some advice and I need it fast.

— Mel

Dear Mel,

Indians, especially Indian women, never forget something like this. Oh, they'll act civil to you to your face, but once you turn your back, they elbow each other and give a silent point with their lips in your direction. The laugh comes later as they relate the story to friends.

So take a few years off and leave town for a while. Perhaps the story will die with age.

— Crabby

Joke of the day:

There were three Indian guys who decided to spend some time in the sweat lodge. As they sat in the small enclosure, one guy spoke up, and said, "It's time to fess up our weaknesses. I'll go first:

"I have trouble staying sober."

The second guy nodded and said, "I have trouble staying faithful to my wife," shaking his hanging head and looking down at his feet.

The third guy said with a huge smile on his face, "I can't wait to get out of here. I have trouble with gossiping."