“You know you’re going to write my obituary.” Having known Laura Jean Pruett for 30 odd years, I was used to tall orders and offbeat remarks from the woman, but that one, made at some random moment nearly a decade ago, was a little taller and a lot odder than usual. In fact, if it weren’t for my familiarity with her wonky sense of humor, I probably would have instantly morphed into what my good friend Frank Lee Johnson calls the classic Carson Stare.