»Æ¹Ï´«Ã½

With the Inspired section, we focus on people who are working toward solutions — some big, some small. 

The thing is, sometimes the small things can become big — or make a huge difference in how a situation evolves. 

Growing up, my mother believed that table manners mattered, but at our casual family-oriented table, we rarely had a bread dish beside the plate. 

I will also add here that I am the worst at left and right. While I usually can point out north, south, east and west wherever I am, I have to think hard every single time I have to figure out left from right. (I realize that may make no sense to the many people out there to whom it comes so naturally.)

The truth is, I love a good mnemonic device. They have helped me remember so many different things through the years.

Way back in elementary school piano lessons, my first piano teacher, Mrs. Winnie Mae Mitchell, taught me to read the keys on the lines of a treble clef with Every Good Boy Does Fine.

In high school, Mrs. Donna McLean, my junior English teacher, taught me to spell necessary with, "A cess pool is necessary."

In college, Dr. MaryAnn Dazey taught me to spell separate with, "There is 'a rat' in separate."

Somewhere along the way, I learned Roy G. Biv to remember the order of the colors of a spectrum — red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet. 

I'm a fan of learning new things, but many years have passed since I added a helpful mnemonic to my collection. However, about a month ago, I found myself sitting at a crowded table full of professors — and one of them taught me something new. 

The dinner ended up being lovely all the way around — great food and delightful company. However, as we were all arriving, things were a bit awkward. No one seemed to know anyone particularly well, and we just weren't sure where we were supposed to sit or the exact order of things for this unusual gathering of folks.

Nonetheless, we all took our seats. Small plates and multiple glasses crowded the table among a plethora of utensils, large and small plates galore. The waiter handed me a bread basket. I took a roll and had that moment of panic. Which one is my bread plate? 

I quickly handed the bread to the dinner guest beside me who seemed to be struck by the same indecision I was trying not to acknowledge.

Dr. Jonathan H. Earle, dean of the LSU Honors College, was sitting directly across from me and noticed us trying to sort out the plates and glasses.

He and I had met once before, but we didn't know each other well by any stretch. He began to lift both of his hands in front of his face, making the OK sign with both thumbs and index fingers. Then he said, "B and D" several times in a row.

He said this like we would all know exactly what he was talking about. 

I had no clue.

Rather than remain in the "B and D" dark, I asked, "What are you doing with your hands, and what do you mean by saying 'B and D'?"

He said, "This is what I tell my students before they go out to dinner as part of a job interview."

He went on to explain that if a person makes the OK symbol with both hands, one's left hand resembles the shape of a lowercase b and the right hand resembles the shape of a lowercase d. 

B = bread. D = drink. 

One's bread plate is to the left. One's drink is to the right. 

Mystery solved. 

I don't believe I'll ever hesitate over my bread plate again. B and D forever. Sometimes little solutions matter.