SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY HOME--- Part 3

SQUEEZING THE "SECRET" FROM MY SISTER.  I think she has valuable information--I hope to get.

She's still 50 miles away--but I can't resist a short side trip to show you the remote site where outlaws Bonnie and Clyde were ambushed. The bullet-riddled car is on display at a casino in Primm, Nevada.

https://www.google.com/search?sourceid=navclient&aq=&oq=bonnie+and+clyde+death+photos&ie=UTF-8&rlz=1T4ACGW_en___US383&q=bonnie+and+clyde+death+photos&gs_l=hp..2.0l5j41.0.0.1.54048...........0.xDO4ZEBV-Gs 

The nearest town-- Gibsland, La.  Proud of it's dubious claim to fame--- hosts yearly "Bonnie and Clyde days" festivals.

 

The Marker appropriately shot up a bit. Here's an FBI synopsis:  http://www.fbi.gov/about-us/history/famous-cases/bonnie-and-clyde

 

So on I go to West Monroe---and there she is--my sister Dr. Bobby Jean----(last name omitted)We've not seen each other in many years---though we chat by phone occasionally. I try to explain my mission to her.

She arranges for me to meet the extended family this very night. 

It's a traditional crawfish feast.  Messy affairs-- so we eat in this garage.  Most of those folks are related to me somehow. 

Crawfish-- boiled---hard to believe people eat them.

Dumped hot from the cooker onto a screen---note the corn and potatoes.  Waste  is dropped into the center and fall into a garbage can. People shell and eat till they're full.

Believe it or not, I've never eaten one-- till now.  Sis shells a few for me till I get the hang of it.  Not bad--like small lobster tails---(still not thrilled)

Meet Jeff---my nephew and host.  And that's Wolf--his son.

Skylar---his daughter has something to show "uncle Poppy".(that's what everyone here calls me---Poppy---I like it)  She's bringing these two live crayfish to her pet. 

A rare and friendly albino raccoon.

Not camera shy

Makes short work of the crawfish.

This is one of Jeff's houses.  Woah !---what does he do for a living?

Jeff's wife,_Denise--mother of Wolf and Skylar--, mistress of this mansion .

Turns out, alligators paid for this mansion. I persuade my nephew to give me the story tomorrow.

Now back to the secret I'm after: How to raise exceptional kids---My sister raised 4 of them: Autonomous personalities all.  Meet Dr. Donna _______my Niece  who drops by and attempts an answer.  What did Bobby Jean and Dr. Al-- do right-- to cultivate 4 such worthy, contributing citizens.  (Trust me, the other two are equally independent and productive) She said: (I paraphrase) There's no great secret----just cultivate values into your children like Momma did with us---with consistency. Could it be that simple? mmmmmmm

Now here's a teaser for tomorrows entry.  This giant is a "nuisance" gator---brought in by a guy who specializes in removing them.  IT ATE THE FAMILY DOG---and  winds up in Jeff's facility---He handles such cases as a public service.

The main business here is to raise hundreds of thousands of gators from eggs to 3 year olds.  Will show you tomorrow----brace yourself.

 

RANDY PHILOSOPHIZES:  So far--so good---I'm liking my family and they seem to like me---- intrigued by this curious nomad----puzzled how I managed to live so free so long without working. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY HOME-----Part 2

LAZY DRIFTING---CURIOUS EYE---OPEN HEART

Where the Interstates divide--10 and 20---I choose 20 

 

Does this peak your curiosity?  A bit of green lushness surrounded by miles of drab brown.  What's so special about that spot?  Will go find out! Park my rig and (carefully) make my way to it.

Yes--of course--it's very near the water collection point---BUT NOT IN IT. Might have drowned there.  mmmmmm a metaphor for something. Walked all round it--enjoyed it and imagined that it enjoyed my company.

I move on to the ghost town of Toya---walk all round---boarded up school? Courthouse?  Houses and church--even swimming pool-- abandoned.  Any life here at all?

 

Well yes!  Goats---lively and social--one has wool instead of hair.  Did not see the caretaker.

 

Oil wells--a pumping--lots and lots of them.  At an information center I stopped and got the story: There's a fresh new oil boom---old "dry" wells can be revitalized by the new fracking technique---AND they've found fresh pools down deeper.  Things are booming from Pecos to Abilene.  Unemployment is down to 3%--hiring signs everywhere. Beginning McDonalds workers earn $13 an hour.  Teachers quit their classrooms to work in the oil fields

How many wind turbines are there in Texas? 10,000---and they each--on average generate enough power for 500 homes. The story is a bit more complicated ,however.

 In Sweetwater, Tx--I wake to this sight---someone has tried to donate a dog to me---complete with water and food bowl.  I ponder it for about a minute---but No.  I fill both bowls and drive away. 

 

 Texas has lots of picnic and rest areas---far more than other states.

 Newsbreak---I just get off the road a ways -- park in a churchyard--aim my satellite and watch the news--vaguely hoping someone will come and confront me---(I like to keep my relational skills fresh) No one came.  This was a fundamentalist Church. 

 A free dumpsite at the Louisiana welcome center.  Much appreciated.

 I call it a night in Shreveport, La---see an empty lot among the Casinos and settle in.

No one disturbed me.

 Next morning I discover I was the guest of Larry Flint's Hustler club---featuring Leather and Lace and $2 drinks.

 Paused at La Downs racetrack to see the horses do their early morning workout.

 

 

 Moved on to Minden, La and scratched a paranormal itch.  There is an odd house along this creek that has appeared several times in my dreams.  Don't know why.  Or who lives there. 

 

 Today, I'm feeling bold---so I park and walk to the house---take pictures---and just stand outside.  Soon a nice lady came out and I explained about my dream.  She puzzles with me--said she bought it two years ago---that the seller told her it was built by an artist who had something to do with the song Blue Moon. She let me walk around and take pictures.  I thanked her.  Didn't notice any striking feelings--just a pleasant warmth from the lady.  I left while she was still feeling comfortable.

 Then I visited my Mother's grave. She bought this twin tombstone for her 2nd husband and herself---had everything but her death date engraved on it--- brought me here several times ---said it comforted her to know she had a resting place prepared.

I knelt and meditated with as clear a mind as I could manage.  An image of a flowing river came into my mind.

 

 

 RANDY PHILOSOPHIZES:  Hindu's envisage life in 3 stages: Student: (learn learn learn ) Householder: (career, family) and Holy person: (spiritual pursuits, simplicity, wandering).  I'm told that indeed  SADHU's by the hundreds of thousand wander the continent---experiencing life---sustained by people they meet ---craving nothing, clinging to nothing---simply BEING---and let the physical world flow through them.

I sometimes think of myself as an American Sadhu.

 

Tomorrow I will begin to engage with my family.  Do I still love them? Do they love me? Respect me? 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY HOME---PART 1

"GONNA TAKE A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
GONNA SET MY HEART AT EASE
GONNA TAKE A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
TO RENEW OLD MEMORIES"

THAT'S WHAT I'M FEELING---THAT'S WHAT I'M GONNA DO.
Have not been home in many years---and I'm feeling the urge to make (perhaps) a last trip to my roots in rural Louisiana--to see what it has to say to me. I leave from Columbus, NM.

Take the border road to El Paso.  In the middle of nowhere ---see these two horsemen (yes there are two) riding slowly across the desert---looking down.  They wave to me.

 

Seriously dry badlands.

 

 I stop an assemblage of  Patrolmen and ask what the riders are doing.  Looking for the footprints of illegals--of course.  I also ask if these are the infamous badlands of NM sung about in Marty Robbins El Paso song.  This is them he said.  Nice friendly guys--they also directed me to a tire shop.

 Right there--a quarter mile away are the hovels of Juarez Mexico.

 I got 4 new tires and drove on to this ghost town---will stay the night here.

 Here's how to boondock in Texas. (since it has no BLM bureau of land management land as the other western states do)  Just find a little used road---get about a mile off the interstate and settle along the generous shoulder.  Here I am next morning.

I check out several abandoned houses trying to piece the story together---why did everybody leave?  Still don't know.

 

 

 This old school intrigued me.  Decided to investigate.

 As I approach--was startled to see this:  The ghost of a past principal?

 Not really!   A truck driver--curious like me about the building.  He told me he had passed it for years but decided today he would investigate.  Together we talked---AND THEN----AND THEN.

 A beautiful woman pedals up.  Meet Kelly---on a solitary cross country odyssey to the east coast.

 I gave her a cold chocolate Yoo Hoo---seemingly appreciated.

 

 Mike hurried to give her (and me) some delicious naval oranges. 

Kelly records the moment with a time shot.

And then we sat and talked a long while. Kelly rides about 70 miles a day---about as far as I drive---has full set of camping gear.

 

RANDY PHILOSOPHIZES:  A very unlikely convergence in a ghost town.

Moments like this make my life rich.