C.J.: KSTP-TVer Lindsey Brown, newly wed, is too happy to smile less

The September wedding of KSTP-TV's Lindsey Brown was perfect.

That can't be. Something is supposed to go wrong when 150 people attend a Mississippi wedding.

"Not a thing and I went into it ready for a lot to go wrong," Brown told me. "I was worried the dress wouldn't fit; I thought the crabcakes would be bad. I didn't have a single thing that messed up. It didn't even rain and there wasn't a hurricane or a tropical storm. It's been 10 years since Katrina hit. Over the last year I've [thought] 'Oh, my God. Late September? I'm asking for it,' but nothing. I think my expectations weren't incredibly high."

She really wants us to hate her.

Brown is levelheaded and beautiful with a big smile. Her third TV job is at a big-time TV station, 10 years after graduation from Ole Miss, where she met and eventually fell in love with a Georgia peach, Matt, an Ole Miss law school graduate. They are a very unattractive couple.

She kept bursting out in laughter during our interview about her St. Peters by-the-Sea Episcopal Church wedding in Gulfport, Miss., which might've been glitch-free because, "It's crazy, but I was never one of these perfect wedding people."

Brown said she was also never one of those little girls always planning her wedding day in her head. "You know how we are in this business? Career, career, career," she said, sounding surprised to admit that slowing "down to have a wedding and [bowing] out of work, felt so good." They honeymooned on the Riviera Maya in Mexico, "and the weather was nice there, too!"

She and Matt met when she was an undergraduate and he was a graduate student in journalism. Then he came to his financial senses, right? "He wanted to try to make some money," she concurred. "He walked into [the ethics class they were taking]. He was really, really cute and he was smart and eclectic and he liked indie rock. I met him when I was 21 and it took 10 years for us to get together."

He looks shorter in photos, which means that they are both very secure.

"He says we are the same height," Brown said. "I wear high heels. You know, I'm one of those women who I don't care" about the height of my partner.

The college football season must be big around these two, although Brown's Southern accent seems to come and go, which is good because, bless her heart, she's from Mississippi. (Joke about Mississippi at your own peril; she loves the state.)

"You don't think I have one?" she asked. "People will say Where are you from [with a dour tone to their voices] and they will pick weird places: South Africa." She doesn't sound the least bit like "Daily Show" anchor Trevor Noah.

"I've got some weird twang. I just laugh. You're from down there. As you know, every part of the South has its own little weird accent."

After graduation from Ole Miss, she worked in Meridian, Miss., which will do nothing to eradicate the drawl. Then she went to Memphis, Tenn., again, not a place that will press the Southern charm out of your accent. In Minnesota, Brown was surprised to hear retired Hubbard Broadcasting exec Harold Crump, another native Mississippian and an Ole Miss grad.

"He was fast to introduce himself," she said. "What an old school Southern gent to see walking around here. He said he loved living up here. I had just gotten here [in September 2014] and it was a relief to hear this was a place he was able to consider home."

Speaking of home, Brown seems to have a full house of teeth. Has her dentist ever remarked that she has more than the average number?

"No," she laughed. "I don't even have wisdom teeth. They never came in, thank God. They're just big. They're just big," she said of her teeth. "I get that on social media, especially when it's someone who doesn't like me at all. They'll be like Hey! Can you NOT smile as big? I don't know."

Why shouldn't Brown smile big? She gets to look at Matt every morning and herself when she looks into the mirror and she's not some empty-headed Southern chick.

Zimbabwe's not planning to pursue charges against Cecil the Lion's killer, so Bloomington dentist Walter Palmer can breathe a sigh of relief.

But does Palmer know this is probably never going away, not as long as there are late-night comedians?

In a story about cereal giant Kellogg's plans to expand to Africa, Seth Meyers, host of NBC's "Late Night," made a shocking Palmer/Tony the Tiger joke. Comedians' memories will always be jogged by such events as MSNBC airing the documentary "Blood Lions," about lions bred to be killed in canned hunts for profit.

The question I would like to ask Palmer is: Was this hobby worth it?

C.J. can be reached at cj@startribune.com and seen on Fox 9's "Jason Show." E-mailers, please state a subject; "Hello" does not count. Attachments are not opened.