Meme me
Evie was sittin’ at the kitchen table starin’ blankly at her laptop. Dillon walked up behind her. She had sat there so long that her laptop had went to sleep. Dillon was shocked as he watched the pictures roll by. Patty had gone hog wild at their wedding taking pictures. This one was her sittin’ on the tailgate of Danny’s truck. He was standing on the ground. Patty had told them to look at each other and say, ‘I love you’. They were about to kiss. The bottom of the picture read ‘at last’. The next picture was of them and her dad. Them and Bradley. The next picture was of his back, he was looking out over the landscape at Smith’s. This was taken the day he passed out. ‘Dear sweet Lord, she really did love him’. He finally remembered where he was, bent over and kissed her on top of the head. “What doin’?”
She stirred slightly, “studying memes and meme advertising.”
“What’s a meme?” He asked as he sat down.
“This is how the internet defines them.” She slid her finger across the laptops built in mouse pad bringing it to life and read “… an idea, behavior, or style that spreads by means of imitation from person to person within a culture and often carries symbolic meaning representing a …” she trailed off.
“And why are you studying about it?”
“The internet is a powerful advertising tool. And the human attention span is getting shorter. Memes are a great way to connect with your audience using just a picture and a few words. The Peel’s and I think it might be interesting to name the goats. Figure out what kind of traits they show and use them to market Hillbilly Yoga. The participants can decide if they want to do yoga with Dexter the demur goat. Or Scotty the playboy. Max might pee in you. Connie could head-but you.” She paused. “Dillon, thank you for lookin’ out for dad.”
“You’re not mad at me for not tellin’ you?”
“No. I know you love dad.”
“He was more of a father to me than my own.” Dillon smiled, “Dexter the demur goat?”
She blushed, “playin’ with names.” She jumped, “do any of them have names?”
“No. They wind up at the butcher shop.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever ate goat meat.”
“It’s okay. I don’t prefer it.” He shuffled in the chair. “Since we are talkin’ ‘bout work related things. Bradley approached me about Sarah (is daughter). She hates the drive to Perkinsville. Which has changed her entire attitude about teaching. She thinks she’d like to try her hand at an all natural line of goats milk soaps and lotions.” He stopped.
“You and Bradley have been friends for a long time and you have all kinds of goats.” Dillon nodded yes. “What are your thoughts?”
“I told Bradley I would run it by you.”
She looked at him waiting for more. But he offered nothing. “It’s just me and you here. How do you feel about it?”
“If she is being genuine,” he rubbed his hand through his hair. “It can’t endanger the goats. Everything has to stay in the barn with Hillbilly Yoga. I want no part in the day to day.” He leaned up puttin’ his elbows on the table. “If this goes sideways it could end Bradley and mine, our workin’ and friendship.” He took a deep sigh, “does she have any idea what she’s doin’?”
“Let’s find out. Tell Bradley that we need a business plan before we move forward. Nothing formal. But if she’s serious, she will not hesitate to produce something. If not, it might intimidate her. And we’ll hear no more about it.”
“A business plan?” He repeated back softly.
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