Thursday, August 20, 2015

Pirate Bars and Honey Jars

After a rejuvenating night in Houston I hit the road, Baton Rouge or bust.  Contrary to my laid back sensibilities I was burdened with a responsibility, what a buzzkill.  Fortunately my task was picking up two of my favorite people from the airport, my mom and my sister.  I utilized the following bit of backwards planning to extrapolate what time I must leave Houston in order to execute a punctual pickup of my kinfolk.  Feel free to check my work.

1.) My sister and mom's flight is estimated to arrive in Baton Rouge at 7:25pm

2.) Flights will occasionally arrive 20 minutes early, so I had best plan on arriving 30 minutes early at 6:55pm
3.) It takes approximately 4 hours to travel from Houston to Baton Rouge by automobile
4.)Traffic exists in this world, so I had better plan on a 30 minute delay in the trip

Solution: If I plan for 4 hours and 30 minutes of driving and I want to arrive in Baton Rouge by 6:55pm I will need to leave Houston by 2:25pm.





So, I left Houston at 2:25pm.  I know what you're thinking, you're thinking, "Cale, that logic is air tight, you stud, utilizing such exceptional deductive reasoning there is no way that you would be late for pickup.  Good job buddy!"  Well my friend, first thank you for your kind words, and second you would be wrong.  What I didn't take into consideration for my planning was the Atchafalaya Basin Bridge.  Now for those who are ignorant on the subject of American automobile bridges, the Atchafalaya Basin Bridge is an 18.2 mile bridge approximately 20 miles west of Baton Rouge.  While those facts are interesting in themselves (bonus fact: it is the 6th longest automobile bridge in the world) the interesting relevant fact is that once on a bridge it is near impossible to exit.  Let's say for example there is a car wreck on the bridge, it would be incredibly difficult to clear the wreck from the road, and also incredibly difficult to bypass as a motorist on said bridge.


This was not a fictitious example, I ran into (pause for effect) a car wreck along the Atchafalaya.  As I crept along I-10 I was fiddling with my phone.  I am not proud to say that at this point in my life I was still using the iphone map, so decided to shake it up a bit and try out Google Maps.  The google maps madam (whom I have named Linda) immediately informed me that I could exit in a mile and save myself and hour.  I followed Linda's advice and I have been listening to her sagely advice ever since.


Let me say this in its own paragraph in order to emphasize its importance.  Google maps is a game changer in travel.  Linda can save you hours when driving by utilizing her algorithmic brain to analyze traffic, pinpoint accidents, and guide you back onto the path when you've gone astray.  Also, as I found in Europe, even when you disable your phone's internet google maps can still be used to find your current location and give directions.  How is this possible?  I have no clue, blood sacrifice, chanting, and divination would be my guess.


Having only lost 45 minutes in traffic, I was again moving at a respectable speed towards to the pickup.  At 7:05pm I received a call from my sister, they had landed and were about to disembark from the plane.  Shit.  Even with a moderate level of disregard traffic laws, I was still going to be late.  I had failed my family.  They were forced to wait 10 minutes until I finally arrived at 7:15pm.  


This brings up the second valuable lesson that I learned along the drive from Houston to Baton Rouge:  Never attempt to pick someone up from a transportation hub (plane, train, bus, etc.) if you are more than 2 hours away.  In retrospect I should have found a way to be at most 2 hours away the morning of pickup.  I didn't and I was late.


I finally pulled into the arrivals corral at the Baton Rouge airport and greeted both family types with a hug.  I asked about the trip and then instantly regretted it.  It is not a topic suitable for this blog, but it was not a pleasant experience.  Having sufficiently set the conditions for an awkward car ride, we set off for cousin Carol and Jim's place in the outskirts of Baton Rouge.

We arrived to a toasty warm greeting from Carol and Jim.  Carol is my mother's first cousin and she regaled us with childhood tales of my mother and the Louisiana cousin's escapades on our family farm in rural Wisconsin.  The tales all had a Tom Sawyeresque sense of good old fashioned rural mischief.


Carol and Jim were both vibrant and warm people, and their overall jovialtiy belied a depth and richness of character.  I feel that many who have lived their entire lives in urban settings have a tendency to see rural folk as uncultured, uneducated simpletons.  In my experience I have found this to be miles from truth.  Carol told tales about her time in Saudi Arabia and her and I discussed cultural differences between the West and the Middle East.  Carol was also an avid painter and frequently volunteered as a role player for military and police exercises; she was a decidedly badass woman.

Jim was an absolute character.  He was a self described coonass and was quick to quip with colorful Cajun sayings.  He was fluent in a Cajun style of French with a dialect that is so unique that is nearly a different language from tradition French.  Jim was a pilot, having served in the Air Force and had stories enough to match his wife.  Ah, I nearly forgot to mention the food that greeted us when we arrived.  There was fruit and honey that was harvested from Jim's apiary, and sausages homemade by a family member.  Nearly all of the food and even some of the alcohol that we enjoyed was made from scratch by Jim and Carol or a friend of the family.

A quick interlude: The farm to table trend has recently taken hold of urban settings and has quickly begun to permeate into the suburbs.  However, for people who live in rural environments this has been a way of life for generations.  Growing up in a household that was one generation removed from the farm I took for granted all the fresh meat, fruit, and condiments I was lucky enough to enjoy straight from the source.  Cultivating natural sustainable food sources a way of life for my relatives from the country.  Everything from sustainable beef, wild game, apples, maple syrup, alcohol, and even hops to name a few are raised on Bakken and Hilleshiem land throughout this fine country, and it's all top notch.  Urbanites are finally able to appreciate the higher quality of food that I have been consuming for years.

The rapidly advancing night, strain of air travel, and sufficiently full bellies were leading my sister and mom towards sleep.  I had been drinking caffeine saturated beverages for going on 8 hours, so sleep was not coming any time soon for yours truly.  Luckily I had a good friend who was out in Baton Rouge with his lady friend, so I bid a good night to everyone, and rode my caffeine wave down to the the Acme Oyster house to see what shenanigans they were getting into.

The Acme Oyster House is an institution in the South and has a smattering of locations along the gulf coast.  The most iconic Acme is located in the heart of New Orleans and is known for its shrimp, wait no . . . its oysters.  I met Jordan and Laura at the bar (good man, there's a reason we're friends).  We told stories, we laughed, we knocked back a few Abitas, and ate tray after tray of big beefy oyster.  When our oyster limit had been reached we decided to head to one last establishment for the night: the Cove.

The Cove is a beer and whisky bar with an enormous selection of both.  I've been to many a bar in my day, but the Cove may have had the largest beer selection of any bar I have patronized.  Upon entering the Cove I was greeted with this:


The Game of Thrones Beer Series
This exists in our world and the world is better for it.  Unfortunately on this night the beast eluded me.  However, on a recent trip to Atlanta I was able to get my hands on the Three Eyed Raven release.  Was it good?  Sure was.  If you see it, stock up my friends, because winter is coming.


A Game of Thrones beer?!  How the heck had I not heard of this?  It was a combination of two things I loved, and I would be able to drink it.  Unfortunately, I wasn't able to drink it.  The Game of Thrones beer series by Ommegang Brewery were released in limited quantities and it seems that people were as excited as I was for it and ordered it all up before I could try it, the bastards.  The cove did however have a nice selection of flemish reds (one of my favorite types of beer), so I was only mildly disappointed.  The inside of the Cove was weird.  Picture a pirate themed 10 year old's birthday party smashed together with a whiskey lounge and you have an accurate conception of the Cove.  There were nautical implements and jolly rogers adorning the walls with leather high-back booths.  It was an odd atmosphere, but it had beer and a lot of it so it was good in my book.

The beer was leveling out my caffeine high and I was beginning to crash, so I bid adieu to Jordan and Laura.  I was off to find my bed for the night at a new location, but that story can wait until next time.

And now a few insights:

1.)Google Maps should always be the primary navigation tool
2.)Always abide by the 2 hour pickup rule
3.)Generosity of character does not preclude depth of character
4.)Game of Thrones beer exists

There you have it.  My family and I had safely arrived in Louisiana and were welcomed with open arms and open tables.  This theme of hospitality will act as a motif throughout the entirety of the Louisiana adventure.  Southern hospitality is taken incredibly seriously in the bayou.  Family is accepted without reservation and with and outpouring of generosity.

I would like to end by congratulating Jordan and Laura from the tale on their recent engagement.  So . . . Congratulations you crazy kids!

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