Notes From My Travels In The Deep South

(From my travel journal)

Sign outside a Louisiana restaurant: “Eat here are we both go hungry.” (Yes that's are.)

Another Louisiana restaurant sign:
Daiquiris and Beer
Drive through

In New Orleans
Huge neon sign over a restaurant:
DAIQUERIS
[below, very tiny print] fresh seafood.

In a store window:
Children’s Books
Voo Doo Dolls

Another store window:
Formal Wear Rental
Bike Parts

You see lots of signs in the south advertising “Deer Processing.”

On Alabama hotel marquee: “Prayer Works We have Dippin' Dots”

In restaurant menu: “Our special light breading will make your tongue slap your gums.”

It was very difficult to find healthy food. Some menus contained almost nothing that wasn’t fried. A few especially interesting menu items:
Fried alligator
Fried potato salad
Fried dill pickle chips
Fried corn kernels in tapioca
[on a breakfast menu] Fried Bananas Foster Cheesecake

At a Ft. Morgan State Historic site, signs referred to the Civil War as “the War for the Freedom of the Southern States.”

On a Florida restaurant menu, in four languages: “In the United States waiters and waitresses are paid a substandard wage. For this reason we suggest a tip of 15%.”

God Remains Anonymous (and Puzzling) in New Orleans

My last day in New Orleans, crossing Chartres Street, I notice a woman who looks a lot like an old friend.

Of course, it couldn’t possibly be; I mean what are the odds? But the Ginger* in me calls out, “Lindy?” And she turns around! 2000 miles from home--what a tiny, tiny world! We hug and introduce our families. I am beaming.

After all, this is no ordinary acquaintance. Lindy and I go back twenty years. At one time we got together several times a week and phoned each other almost as often. I still overflow with gratitude, remembering the time she listened lovingly while I wept for 45 minutes over being the junior high pariah. When she told me she’d also been the school loser, Reader, we bonded!

Then she got very ill, became distant, and we drifted apart. I still see her in social settings; a year ago she asked me to help her with a presentation for our women’s group.

Today, standing on Chartres Street, I want to grab her arm and become friends again right here in New Orleans. But her grandkids are fussing, our husbands look bored, so we quickly say good-bye. Too late I realize I was holding my camera. Why didn’t I take a picture?

A lot of folks in Al-Anon say “Coincidence is God’s way of staying anonymous.” But why and how? And for what purpose? Is there some important message I was supposed to get? After all, if I’d woken up earlier, dressed later, eaten someplace else, walked down Royal Street, I’d be writing this week about something like Hurricane-infused fried pecan Fosters crawfish beignets.

Comments, anyone?

What Does This Cartoon Have to Do With Our Current Vacation?

Years ago I went to an Al-Anon assembly with my sponsor Barbara. When we checked into our hotel, we discovered they’d given us a smoking room. That wouldn’t do, so she and I went back to the front desk. Our new room turned out to be miles away from our friends and musty-smelling besides.

I figured, “Okay, we’ll have to live with it.” But Barbara marched us right back and demanded a room near our friends.

There followed one of the most embarrassing twenty minutes of my life. The clerk kept saying, “Sorry, we have no other rooms,” and Barbara kept insisting he look harder.

BUT after much pestering on her part, they magically found us a non-smoking room that connected to our friends'room.
Barbara turned to me and said, “You’ve got to ask for what you want.”

I was horrified. I could never, never do that.

Fast forward to last Wednesday.
JR and I board our train for New Orleans and find that Amtrak has put us in a bedroom downstairs . This is terrible. We always get an upstairs room with beautiful views. Now we’re stuck with views of the railroad cut.

Something makes me seek out Julie the car attendant. I ask, “Is there any way we can get an upstairs room?”
“Only if somebody doesn’t show up.”

As soon as we leave, I find her and point out three empty upstairs rooms.

She says, “We have to make certain the missing passengers don’t show up at the next stop.” (This means waiting an hour.)

As soon as we depart the next stop, I’m back, gently pestering Julie.
She says, “I have to call and get approval for the room change.”
“Okay, we’ll wait.”

There was a time when the most important thing was to not bother anybody, to not make a fuss.
But nowadays I feel like Ginger in The Far Side cartoon, doggedly ignoring all those discouraging words.

The moral: As I write this, we’re happily enjoying the view from our upper level room. Thank you, Barbara. Thank you God. Thank you Ginger.


Of course the next day I think,
“Gee. I kinda like the downstairs view better.”

"Miss Poe is Missing"

Sorry-- I've been taking the tree down this week and getting ready to go on vacation.

As a substitute, here are three quotes(from Al-Anon meetings)that I liked well enough to write down:

"You can't sow corn and reap strawberries."

"When someone is bugging you, imagine them finding peace, God, and everything one could want. Then imagine yourself doing the same."

"If I don't act on my dreams, I'll just end up being an old woman who had a good idea."