The Trip and Home Again

 On Monday, I crossed the Big Muddy and traveled up to the Mississippi Delta, to that stretch of Land known as Parchman, it's up past Yazoo City, Ms. farther past RuleVille, Ms.  up to the wind-swept abandoned cotton fields.   To a Land that is known as MSP, the Mississippi State Penitentiary.   According to the locals, it's 22,000 acres, statistically it says it's 18,000 acres.  Land of old men, in striped uniforms, whose families have long passed away.  

I walked 3 miles inside the compounds the first day, 6.1 miles the next day, and concluded my inspections with 3.0 miles before 11:30am on the last day, yesterday.  Total of 12 miles, in three days, came home worn out; it's a 278-mile drive one way.  

I do have time to think and compose my thoughts, as sometimes the toll is not on my body, but on my mind.

Somehow, not sure how, but the sunsets across those fields are some of the prettiest I've seen in a long time.   There is a Quiet that I can not place in words, as I stand outside any of the Gates of those units.

I am glad to be home.  I roll out again to cross the Big Muddy in another 11 days. to return to those wind-swept fields. 

Back in the Day. There was the Krewe of Zeus

 Many, many years ago,  A group of men, who had a common bond, our preference, Being Men who were out and about in the Lil' City by the Red, formed a Krewe to celebrate Mardi Gras.

The Year was 1996. Still a period of self-awareness for many; a Declaration of Awareness for Some. We form a Krewe, the Krewe of Zeus.  I was elected the Captain of this Krewe.  

Being the Captain, you must be willing to attend the Mardi Gras Association meetings and be the Outward Face for the Krewe.  I accepted the role wholeheartedly.   All others remained masked for the parade; our tenets for our Krewe were pushing the boundaries of societal rules.  

Most members are no longer here. I believe there are 5 of us still around.   Just another memory of a Good Life, which is still going on.!!!

Here is a photograph of the inaugural parade for the Krewe of Zeus: Long Live The Memory !!!

An Unspoken Benefit

 Always, after one of my visits to my MH professional, which I leave with renewed vigor, I look back on my life before my journey of sobriety. 

One of the unspoken benefits of this journey is the liquor bill; there is NONE;  the restaurants I go to...  No more top-shelf $18 dirty martinis, no more bottles of overpriced wine, no more Nocello at the end of the meal.  All have been replaced by tea with lemon; I have become a connoisseur of the freshly brewed tea.  Not all restaurants, cafes, and eateries have good, fresh-brewed tea.  If they don't, I settle for bottled water or seltzer, no ice, to sip during the pleasant conversation over the meal. 

On another note, I am having more meaningful conversations with close friends, business friends,  and others. Which is another upspoken benefit.   I am listening more. 

Time is Ticking

 Other than a few passing of some folks who were in my early years, not much is happening here on the Red Bricks of the Li'l City by the Red.  

But (and there is always a but), I feel that Time is Ticking away faster than in my middle years, that as I approach that goal line of Life, I wish things would slow down a little bit, time to smell the roses, kick back put your feet up, slow rock on the rocker, swing a lil bit more deliberate on the front porch swing.  

So, I just say, Time is Ticking, not giving any other connotation to the verse.

I'm approaching my 90-day mark here. The more I read, the more I see: most folks can make it 90 days, then the next 21 days are truly critical, from a therapy standpoint. It's the period after that 90-day mark that becomes a need to not fall back into the same old crap. The tugs of loneliness are a major concern; the rebuilding of friendships, if that can be made, is another matter. at hand.   I am lucky that I have my consulting business to fill some of that loneliness, that need for friendship with supportive folks.

It all Began on this February 15, 1975

 It was a Saturday Morning, in the year 1975, in the month of February, on the 15th day of that month, I walked into the Parish Courthouse, and into the office of the Sheriff of West Feliciana Parish, and into the office of W.C. Percy, Jr., Sheriff and Tax Collector.  Mr. W.C. was one of my Father's pallbearers;  (Note that My Father passed away in November of 1962), he was a loyal friend to my family.  Mr. W.C. was elected as Sheriff of the very rural parish, set between the Mississippi River and Thompson's Creek.  I was there to ask him for a part-time job. I was in my last year of college at SLU and broke. At SLU, I had a job that paid for my room and board. But (and there is always a but), I had no spending money.  

Mr. W.C. looked at me,  he said.  "TomBoy, so you want to be a deputy sheriff," and I said, "Mr.W.C., I just need some work on the weekends, when I come home from College.   He told me how good a friend my Father was to him, that during his first election in 1954, my Father had supported him.  

I was sweating and nervous, standing before the High Sheriff of our Parish, asking for help and a part-time job.  

I was hired on that day by  Sheriff W.C Percy Jr.

Thus began my career in the public service field, on this date 51 years ago.  

And I am still going on, serving the "Public Good and Public Safety".

Here is a home on the street.

 It is undergoing a transformation; it was always painted white for the past 35 years.   It certainly gives color to the Neighborhood.!!!

Sunday Evening

 As I gather myself up and pack to head out in the morning to the Magnolia State, I am reminded that I am thankful to be alive and have the life that I do.   I appreciate all that I have come to understand the power of the Universe, the small part that I have here in the Lil City by the Red.  

Here are some photographs that I took over the weekend.

Saturday Morning

 I'm up early this Saturday morning, and the weather is turning to Spring here.  Highs in the mid 70's.  Soon, the Swamp Maples will blossom a deep maroon red; the Purple Magnolias had already bloomed, but (and there is always a but) some succumbed to the late frost we had a week ago.

Gettin' Back to Life

 Getting Back to Life and Moving On

As I sit here, working on DOC matters, scheduling my trips across the Big Muddy, I am drawn to renew old friendships and experience life again.

So today, I re-joined the Lil City by the Red's Museum of Art.  I once sat on their board, but (and there is always a but) Life had me take a few turns and detours along the way.   I rejoined as a Patron Member so I could have two tickets and bring a guest to the showings. 

I feel good about re-entering the world that surrounds the Lil City that I live in.  

Not to say I wasn't alive before, but my mind is clearing, I am working more, and all in all, I am happy.

Gathering My Thoughts

 This might become an entry in parts today:

Yesterday, I ran into an old friend, whom I had worked with many years ago.  He was a member, a critical element of a Think Tank exploring bright new ideas for the redevelopment of our Lil' City by the Red.  He moved back home here.  It was such a delight to have seen him move into the Garden District.  

It just made my day, yesterday, to know he is back in town and doing well.  

I can say that his presence will enrich my social interactions.  

Part 2:

In my journey, as the years passed, I encountered many different personalities.  The one difference in all of them was the Art of Caring; not many had that quality.  True caring for the fellow person.  Most were either indifferent or didn't give two cents.  When you speak to someone, and they speak back, the conversation begins; there is a mutual unspoken language of respect.  I am not sure if that will ever occur again.

Missing Voices. There is a Part 2 for Today

 What the current administration Does Not have:

Colin Powell

Henry Kissinger

Evertt Dirksen

Franklin  Ellsworth

John James Conyers Jr

These Voices are long gone. We have No Voices of Reason to Stand Up!

The Cult has struck Fear into the the Hearts of Many

My Comments on an Early Sunday Morning

Part 2 for Today:

As I near my 90 days of being totally Sober, Yesterday proved a challenge I knew was coming.  I didn't know when, but knew it would happen.  

It struck home, yesterday,  as the Cajuns would say, I had an Aun' Vie', a craving for a drink, which would have brought on the next step, which would be cruising the apps, then a Snort, then Hedonistic Play in the Gay sense of the word. 

I fought through the urge and began a long review of myself and "dug" deep into my own feelings, on how I came to the tipping point of  That  Desire, That Need, That Feeling!!!

It was through being lonely, not having an outlet due to cold weather, that I could walk out my "needs", talking to myself, getting through those momentarily difficult times. 

The 90 days of being totally sober are some of the roughest beginnings of the Journey.  Once I pass this, there will be more difficult times, but (and there is always a but) I  will build on inner strength each time.