Home Again

I haven't been home since Hurricane Katrina.  

The Saturday before the storm hit, I cleaned my Lake Avenue apartment and loaded my car with a full basket of dirty laundry, an empty pot (to fill with Mama's cooking), and Cleetus.  I was looking forward to a long weekend back in my hometown where I could use free laundry facilities and could return to my apartment with a pot full of whatever I asked for.   I was certain I would be back to work on Tuesday.

NEW ORLEANS AREA  Dark areas illustrate flooding

Sunday night, news reports of Katrina's category upgrade from a 3 to a 5 revealed that my "weekend" stay back home would be extended indefinitely.  My brother's friend, Leah, was a real champ.  She and my brother Chris had been partners in crime for almost a decade.  It was Leah who welcomed me and Cleetus to crash on her couch for as long as we needed.  Luckily, it was only a week.

That was five years ago, and I hadn't been back to my hometown since then.  That is until earlier this month, when Chris and Leah got married!

The ten-hour-trips to and from Alexandria/Atlanta were easy. 

G and I enjoyed the best parts of any road trip - playlists and pit stops.  All week we avoided listening to Howard Stern shows, so that we could catch up on the road.  And, whenever I would see those beautiful, green Starbucks emblems on the FOOD signs, I was elated.  

We made good time getting to Louisiana.  In fact, it was too good. Since I was Leah's matron of honor, I had to make the rehearsal Friday night.  And, to ensure that we would have enough time to get into town, check-in at the hotel, shower, and rest beforehand,  I asked Leah to push back the start time from 5 to 7p. She was perfectly gracious to do so. Then of course, we made it into town around 2p.

After the rehearsal, G and I met up with my oldest and dearest friend, Jessica for drinks.  I missed seeing her when she was in Atlanta a few months ago.  It was one of those things where I called the hotel and she already checked-out; my phone-call procrastination led to my ignorance about having the dates wrong.  I'm still kicking myself over it.  So, it was great to see her and know she is doing well. 

 

My brothers and me (decapitated for privacy)

The wedding was great! Their camouflage theme beckoned two reactions: it's totally Chris and Leah, and only in Louisiana.  What's more is only in Louisiana would my friend Jessica correctly ask if the camo-color was Mossy Oak.  

My dad exhibited his endangered look when he wore a suit.  And, my mom avoided wearing purple, which I thought was on the extinct list. 

My eldest brother and I wore all black.  I was so happy when Leah said a simple black dress would work perfectly.  No worries about having to wear some dumpy dress that looks like rainbow sherbet threw up on an accordion. 

 

This bride made her look like a real asshole

Between the wedding events and visiting with friends and family, I showed G around my old stomping grounds and boringly explained how that used to be Hickory Hut; they made great gumbo, and the ever so interesting quip that place wasn't here before and let's not forget my keenest observation oh, they finally put something in that old Wal-mart.

Yes, going down my memory lane must have been a terrific time for G.  For me, it was actually somewhat therapeutic.  The memories of places I idealized, such as my old street and house were knocked down to their proper, dilapidated size.  And, the places I remembered being broken were nicely restored.

It was great to see my family happy and doing well.  Welcoming Leah to the family was great.  I truly appreciate that my brothers have awesome wives.  Nobody likes when a family member brings a douche into the fold.