Blog#35 From Alabama to Mississippi

I went across to Lulu’s this morning and had an early lunch, sitting at the bar, which was very quiet still at 11AM, while the restaurant was filling fast. I had a great meal and was able to use the WiFi to search for a place to stay tomorrow night. No campgrounds I liked had vacancies for Friday. Or there was a 2-day minimum on the weekend. My bartender suggested Big Lagoon, and I filled her in on their lack of hospitality for old friends. It was pleasant just sitting there, yakking it up with a local.

I tried my best, but I never saw or spoke to Lulu. Or her brother.

I spent much of another day in the car, feeling a desire to be moving toward home. I drove on to Mississippi, stopping this time at the Mississippi Welcome Center.

Look close!

Outside the Mississippi Welcome Center. Look closely to see all the limbs are birds

When I was in South Carolina, in the shop where I bought the Charleston gold rice, they had branches of cotton for sale. The asking price was $8 for one branch, with 5 or 6 cotton blossoms on it.It was very interesting and I thought it would be attractive in a display. I thought then that I would surely see cotton for sale in Mississippi, and cheaper, too. I asked at the visitor center where the nearest cotton growing area was and was happy to learn that I wasn’t too far from the growing area, but disappointed because this is not the season. End of summer for cotton harvest. BUT, the lady at the visitor center said they had some upstairs in storage, because they had it on display earlier in the year. She said I could have it.

One of the volunteers there went up and brought down the cotton, offering me a branch that had seen much better days.  I thanked them for their trouble, but said I didn’t think there would be anything left of it after being stacked in my car with all my stuff.  The lady who had offered it to me looked at the cotton and said, “Yeah. We need to get some fresh”. She really meant, “Yeah. This is beat to hell. I wouldn’t take it either”.

As I continued driving across Mississippi, I heard on Jimmy Buffett radio that he added another date to his upcoming tour for 2018. I already knew about his concert with the Eagles on April 15th in Orlando–too late and too big for me. I want to see him in a small, intimate venue. (Like in the bar at El Cap in Bend). I want to sing with him.

His new date is April 26th in Hattiesburg, Mississippi, 70 miles from where I was. The venue will be the Saenger Theatre there–similar to the one where I saw Garrison Keillor. Theatre has 997 seats. Each ticket $100, going on sale at 10AM the next day.

I arrived at Buccaneer State Park outside Waveland, MS to find that it was full of families.  The park, as well as being a campground very close to the beach, had a water park with wave pool, water slide and regular pool.  Also a frisbee golf course, store and laundry.  I was weary, so I just put my bed together, ate leftover so-so pizza and crashed. I was irritated when I woke in the night and had to pee. The lights around all the campsites there (they bring Christmas lights, etc.) were so bright that I was forced to walk to the restroom.

Other than the one restroom trip, I slept like the dead.  Woke up at 0830.  Packed up and went in search of Wifi at the library in Waveland. No luck. Tried outside the first Walmart I saw, no luck. Decided I would have to use satelite on my phone.

I called ten minutes before Jimmy Buffett tickets went on sale. The very nice man explained that I was an hour early. (I had changed timezones again). I put the alarm on and the number in my contacts. He told me to call at 9:45.

I researched flights back to Hattiesburg from San Diego, LA, San Fran and Portland. I tried every conceivable flight I could have made, and there was no flight for under $800. The hour was slipping away.

My friend, Kevin, texted me to see how I was. Since he has a jet, I texted him back and asked if he would mind flying me back from Oregon to Hattiesburg–tickets were going on sale in 7 minutes. No response. (He’ll say he didn’t see the text until later).

Tickets sold out in under 2 minutes.

Jimmy Buffett sucks.

Just another day in Louisiana. Poor bastards. It wasn’t even raining.

Gave up and moved further west, across the wet land of Louisiana.  I swear highway 10 is straight up the middle of a river.  Land to the right (in places), land to the left on the other side of the eastbound freeway, but water beneath both freeways.  Freaky.

You can see the river between the eastbound and westbound highways

I made it to Texas and back to Winnie, near High Island where my chauffeur service for John had taken place last month.  I found a hotel, next door to where I stayed here a month ago.  I went back to Al T’s for dinner, really not in the mood for Cajun.  I had fettucine alfredo.  Prettty good.

Made in Louisiana

They eat a good percentage of their food fried down here.  Chicken fried steak, fried fish, fried oysters, fried shrimp, fried chicken, fried mushrooms, fried zucchini, fried green tomatoes, fried etc. I didn’t want any of it. I thought I should try the Popeye’s or Churche’s fried chicken, but just couldn’t do it. Most of the salads are made with iceberg lettuce, tomato and onion. Maybe some blue cheese. They have shrimp and caesar salad, but boiled shrimp is not appealing. I am spoiled by Brian, who builds fabulous marinades and grills shrimp.

At a truck stop in Louisiana

I miss home.  I miss salad.  I miss Brian and Derek and Cece.  And Cece’s meatloaf.  And Brian’s chile verde. And Derek’s rootbeer floats.