...”On the road you must have a code that you can live by” now they call our music the Oldies...so starts another road trip. When I was in college this was a regular tradition, sometimes to visit a friend, sometimes with friends to some place new or even a concert...Woodstock (no I can’t remember it...because I don’t think I was there...but wait), or Haight-Ashbury, Fort Lauderdale, Padre Island, or East Lansing...for the last five years I have gone with a new group of friends to another great destination...New Orleans, or Nawlins, or NOLA as locals sometimes call it...but we really didn’t plan on it. Katrina happened and our journey continued in a different direction. It changed the lives of hundreds of thousand of residents and all of us, that went to help them, as well.
When we first started out there were over 100 of us...Jesus you know was the first Christian...(I guess that goes without saying) that went on road trips. He and “The Twelve” as his posse was referred too, took a lot of road trips. I mean there was the famous Jerusalem trips (how about the time James and John ‘borrowed’ the donkey) Jericho (Zacchaeus almost fell right out of that tree)...a few back to Galilee (the guys did love to fish)...side trips to Capernaum (I mean who wouldn’t want to stop by Peter’s mom’s house for Shish) and Cana (some great wine!). This year we only had 21, but you know right after Jesus was killed, everyone kinda scattered and road trips were just not that popular either.
But eventually the apostles took to the roads again, told the stories and over time more and more of them got together. Over the last five years I tried telling the stories. I told of the wonderful people we helped down here, the great fun we had (like when I married that young couple) and why they too should come down and help. There is volunteer fatigue, or donor fatigue or just plain fatigue and people are tired of making this trip, plus there are so many destinations now, Central America, Mexico, Africa, and Indonesia. So I kinda get it. So I just decided this time, it didn’t matter. I don’t think Paul really knew when he went out with Barnabas that they would help Peter build a religion with millions of members. We of course don’t need to do that. We are just trying to make one small part of the world a better place than the way we found it, but as they say the results aren’t always as important as the journey.
But do I have the stories. So Jim “John Deer” Garlough and Michele “Frenchy” Pilogret worked on Rampart Street and what would you expect. Did I mention Jim worked on a farm in his younger years...well he was taking to the mud under the house like a pig to slop. Frenchy...well you know the ladies tell me that he liked to show off his legs up on the roof of the home they roofed last year and well this year he decided to go a little farther showing off his chest and abs. Some claim to have seen him in a Speedo...oh those French.
On the other hand, John and I worked siding, cement, and vinyl. Obviously we are recognized for our skills and got the ‘silk stocking’ jobs. Did I tell you John almost killed me on Wednesday? Well having gotten up before dawn to do the lunch set up, (actually I did it at 1 AM which technically is before dawn) I was too tired to remember to bring a bottle of drinking water so I was so happy we brought the big 5 gallon jug of water to the site.
So when I opened it to see if the ice had melted from the day before I was surprised to find a bottle of water stuck in it. John had placed it in there and of course when he retrieved it was only fit for washing, either your hands or the van we drove in. As dehydration set in and my head began to spin under the oppressive heat John cried, “I meant no harm.” Ok, so it wasn’t really that hot and I stumbled...but really, this isn’t Hispaniola?? I will say that the water did come in handy...did I mention there were no heads (restrooms or privies)...no huh, well there were no heads and after I went I was glad to have the water to wash my hands in...I didn’t mention that Scottie did I...oh...well...ah...I used hand sanitizer before I washed my hands...yeah that’s what I did.
Me...you want to know what “I did at the revolution?” Well I was busy working with the US military on a Special Black Ops with Sergeant Nikkila, a project involving design and engineering deep in the Honey Swamp...but being a self proclaimed ‘Pirate’ (and a former politician)...I’ve been known to stretch the truth, a wee bit...but...oh heck its bad enough being a ‘legend in my own mind,” do you really want me in yours as well? I didn’t think so. But if any of you have a bottle of rum meet me at Captain Sal’s (but don’t eat the chicken unless you are experiencing irregularity).
Come Saturday we be leavin’ with the tide and while I often wish to head off wherever the wind blows or the compass points...we’ll make port in a couple of days. But you know a “Pirate” really never feels comfortable stuck on land...the sea and the journey is always calling like a Siren in the fog...see ya next spring matey.
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