against his "better" judgement

It has been sprinkling and a lite rain passed thru while Nice(the dog) scowled at me from his bed in the dry van. I will give it a few more minutes and then go. The World will be a gritty mess if these conditions keep up.

Patterson to Patterson

I have walked from the edge of Patterson to Centerville after a full day of walking talking, interviewing, being stopped (in a good way) by police, and finally sleeping all night while thinking of all the things I could share about the special moments of the day. All I have so far is the title of the post. I wrote that just before I lost the war with my eyelids. I'll just begin and see what rolls off my thumbs...



When I got up from the night at GameStop I stepped over to Walmart to get a gallon of water so I could shave the grey away, some dog food for my companion and a sack of seed for the pretty birds I noticed scavenge for crumbs (poor things). On my way out I passed the woman who had helped me get permission to park the night before. She asked why I had moved over to the GameStop parking strip. I explained the lapse in communication between the Women who were handling the business of the day and the men in charge who were handling things from the video monitors. I thanked her for being so nice and we both giggled over my purchase as I pushed the cart away. By the time I returned to the van at the GameStop, after getting lost and disoriented in the huge acres of parking lot, I noticed there had been a hole in the sack of bird seed, alas, not one kernel was left in the bag. I prepared for the day, moved the van to the edge of the twelve slot Gamestop parking area before sailing across the wide sea of wallyworld asfault. The wind ushered me west effortlessly. I made a phone call to a friend, had a conversation and posed for a picture and steered the World behind a perfect wind until I finally left the vast parking area. A hundred birds lined the roof, waiting... The call had been made, more were on their way. Pretty birds. Worn out from the trek over the empty parking lot I had to stop and rest.

That has nothing to do with the title of this post...Let's try again.


The day before I stepped into Patterson (there, I used the word) I had a lively talk with a fast talking Cajun woman. She talked fast and 'xpressive, I had to quicken my talk just to keep up. We laughed and carried on about everything. From the colas she drinks twenty four-seven knowing they are bad for her to veterans fresh back from the war. She assured me I would meet one 'fo shore' if I was passing through Patterson in the morning. She was right. He was a good gentleman, wound a little tight, strictly by the book and easy to get along with as long as you don't make any sudden moves. Patterson is lucky to have him protecting their community. One of the Patterson citizens had called, they called in saying they nearly hit me. I'm thinking they just wanted to see how he handled the situation and were watching from a distance. During this road side stop I was also interviewed by the local newspaper in Patterson, told more stories than I can remember, talked to a bunch of people who came up for pictures and a few questions, and I had a cup of coffee while we all waited for dispatch to give the "all clear". One of the Patterson police later brought me a patch which is now nestled next to the LA trooper and the 3rd Ward police patch I was given lter in the day as we walked toward Centerville. I didn't get one from the detective who stopped me even before I had walked the length of a walmart parking lot from the walmart parking lot, but he did call me during the day to make sure I was doing alright. I felt safe thanks to our veterans who now serve to protect us locally. I truly mean that. I've met many veterans during my travels, from Firefighters to those on leave from the war. One even called me once when he was on a mountain in Afghanistan with his satellite phone.I have a tribal scarf he gave me. When it's hot and I need to carry a lot of water I have a camelback given to me by a petite little farm girl from wisconsin who faced me off when I hesitated to take her water sack that she had on her tour. When she 'nosed up" to me and told me she'd cleaned all the sand out of it and I better take it I noticed her cheek puffed out from the 'chaw of tobacco stuffed in her gum and the fire in her eye. I took the gear. When I first used it the mouthpiece tastes like lipstick. Not what I was expecting from the little blonde with a chew. Now I call it my lipstick lifesaver and think of her every time I take a drink
Anyway, Patterson New Jersey has got nothing on Louisiana. (There, not great or even close to what I was going to ramble about last night but I did mention both Pattersons)
The sky is thick with grey clouds and it rained a bit last night. I should get ready for the day of walking.
Walk, feel better, hug a cop.

Mrs. Marlatt's Creation

Some things stick in my mind from childhood. This little verse was written by a friend of the family, I can't forget it. Or the image of two feet sticking out of the bowl...This, I hope, will give me relief.


There once was a man from Waddy
He had to go to the potty
His creation was lush
With reluctance he flushed
and followed it down with his body.


Mrs. Marlatt, may you rest in peace. Perhaps I may now also.

GameStop,Home-ah

The Louisiana State Troopers at the station in Houma were very cordial and after giving me a patch and a few oranges I drove past all the "dangerus" overpasses, elevated roadways and bridges clear to the edge of Morgan City. I had an interview over the phone by the ADA monthly magazine. By this time I knew if I got the World out and inflated I would need to make repairs. Crumbling the World into a wad of canvas is never good, there are always areas that need reglued or paint that flakes away. Since I had a twenty mile "grace" ride and am not on a strict schedule I decided to find a laundramat and wash my bedding and dirty clothes while I had an opportunity. When the wash was finished I went back to the highway to get ready for tomorrow at the store chain where I have had no problem staying in every state but Louisiana, Walmart. Not wanting to repeat my experience of being asked to leave another Wallyworld parking lot like when I was in "Beauty" I went in and got permission to stay there overnight. After I was given permission I inflated the World and commenced repairs and touch ups (putting down a drop cloth first. Several hours later, just before dark, the Wallyworld manager who saw the van over the store video surveillance cameras and was not around when I waited for twenty minutes to make sure I had permission to park, decided that I could not stay, because he had not given permission. He sent his male assistant manager to inform me. When I said I'd gone in and asked, a female assistant manager had given the okay. Apparently the men were sleeping or had the radio off. I had to go. I walked next door and asked the good people at Gamestop who were happy to let me roll the World fifty yards over to their few parking spaces, so here I am parked six feet from the acres of empty parking lot. They even gave me a card with a note in case the loal police have any issue. Though I didn't walk today I feel it was very productive as I spoke to fifty or more people while working to maintain the world, was in a few newspapers and an interview by a New Orleans television station made yesterday aired today. There was also the twenty or so miles of westward progress and a new patch!

Compromise and Truth

Tuesday morning we started from The Finish Line, a truck stop and casino in Raceland, and walked toward Houma. As we rolled to the divided highway against the flow of traffic a man called from the road next to the highway. He and I spoke as he drank his morning coffee, before I walked on we had exchanged phone numbers so he could give us a ride back to the Finish Line at the end of the day. I knew it would be a good day, my random ride was already handled by the first person we spoke to. I had a happy bounce in my step while listening to a tune on the Walkman from a Baton Rouge radio station.
A mile up the highway I was roused from my radio rhythms to a state trooper. He asked what I was doing, I answered. He then informed me it was illegal to walk on a U.S.highway. "Do you mean that I've been walking along 90 since Seminole Alabama and have walked in 33 states, over 4000 miles illegally?" Apparently. After a short exchange I could read into the conversation this could be like my premature exit from Connecticut so I surrendered to the possibility of a virtual "free pass" to texas. He was the supervisor over this district and thought for the safety of myself and others, also if something should happen it would reflect poorly on him, I should cease and desist, deflate the world and travel to the border. I told him, as I saw it, there were now two options. He could allow me to walk/roll back the mile to the van (The Finish Line), or I could deflate the World and we could transport it back in his (uncannily clean) suv supervisors vehicle. Rolling back was out, in his opinion, so I asked him if I should pull the plug and "Get on that." He decided another vehicle was necessary, his would not do, and wait while he made a call. I calmly leaned on my staff and looked out at the wooded swamp lands, possibly my last moments walking in Louisiana and waited for the "other vehicle". A few minutes later he got out and began by asking me what I do when I come to bridges like the one ahead. From his perspective the pull-off lane was too narrow for a six foot ball, a man and his dog. I answered that I look ahead as far as I can see and count how long it takes for a car or truck to get to the bridge then "mosey on up to the edge, wait for an opening and get my run on." His face twisted a bit as he then expressed his concern that the World may be sucked into traffic by large trucks and... I interrupted, " You know, you are right, just yesterday I saw a duck flying across the road and though it had cleared past a truck the wind slammed it down onto the roadside killing it instantly." I clapped my hands flat together for affect. He winced again. I added, "That said, it is totally in your power, Sir, to have me go to the border. I have walked in thirty three states, over four thousand miles. You would not be the first state trooper to have me do this (he would be the second) and I don't have a problem doing whatever you say." Finally he decided to allow me to continue but "under no circumstances are you to go on the high-rise." A Louisiana compromise.
Truthfully, my friends, I would have been glad to go to Texas and continue from the border. I have taken many rides for safety and necessity. At the end of the day I stopped just short of the elevated roadway near the edge of Houma. Ironically I stopped at the truck stop next door to the State Police troop station. With the world crumbled into the back of the van I am about to drive away. First I am going to ask for a trooper patch armed with my zip-lock bag filled with patches I have collected since I began from Alabama.
Walk for you health. Have a very nice rest of the day.

The Finish Line at Raceland

An added bonus to staying behind Frank's Lounge was that I was able to keep the World under shelter from the midnight rains so the paints I applied were able to thoroughly dry. Over the past several days the off and on rains and heavy dew had left my efforts "hit and miss" and the painted canvas World never dried. Before the game on Sunday I had pealed off many layers off old water soaked patchwork over the Antarctic where the six panels of the original canvas cover had been sewn together. I say "had been" because when I removed all the rain loosened canvas repairs, of four thousand miles and more, all the seams had separated. The only thing holding the World together were the years of layers. Some of the first patches I had ever glued over torn seams were on the ground. One large blanket patch now binds the Worlds' south pole together with contact adhesive. After five hours the process was complete with a clean white arctic and many more ares looking better from a fresh coat of paint.
I rolled the dapper World along the four lane's shoulder to Raceland. For miles we were just feet from the swamp. The tall growth and water hearty willow are beginning to beckon spring. Nice (the dog) would occasionally pick up on a scent of something along the waters edge. I am sure he will be surprised when he gets his first glimpse of a gator. Last winter as we walked along the dormant swamps in Georgia and Florida we would startle them as they sunned near the road , always just out of sight but the splash was distinctive. For a guy from up south in Kentucky all this is a new thing, as far as swamps go I'm still wet behind the ears.
After the day of walking and talking we walked over the waterway bridge, down the ramp and into Rangeland's Finish Line Truck Stop where the security guard from it's Casino came to see what the World was all about. Before I could ask about parking the van overnight she told me I could Park with the trucks in the rear and that they had showers inside. I called the one number I had been given by a good person during the day who had offered. To ride us back to Des Allamends and waited. While we awwaited our ride many people came to talk and have a picture with us. Nice (the dog) loves the attention as long as he is between them and his World. The Worlds watchdog has had issues ever since the Boys of New Jersey teased him while I was away and he was leashed twenty feet from the World. Whatever they did during those thirty minutes two years ago Nice has made sure it will not happen again. The World is a member of his pack, he won't let it down again.
The man. hat gave us the ride is diabetic He told me of "the pink drink" that he uses to help manage his condition with great results. He said his doctor told him he couldn't tell him to use it because it isn't approved by the FDA but as long as he kept monitoring his levels it was hard to argue that th man now does not need the shots and pills daily. I wiLl have to learn more of this natural drink I keep hearing about.
After a meal, some sleep, and then a shower I feel pretty good. I am amazed how much better I feel by finally having wider shoes that give my toes room to move. By back and joints don't hurt as much. I have happy feet! I best finish this line of late night rambling and go back to sleep.
Enjoy a walk everyday. We didn't make it this far as a species sitting on our assets.
I'll finish with that line. Goodnight Louisiana.

a good day

With the superbowl crazy traffic and the need to give the World some tender loving care I worked most of the day on patching after taking three hours to walk a little more than two. Thanks to Frank's for their hospitality, especially the people of the neighborhood who were so warm to include me in their football holiday.
I am going to walk to Raceland today and will keep this short. I have some food to burn away. You may also after this weekend if you were so inclined. Perhaps a walk is in order? A lively tug of war with your dog, or playing stick ball with the kids. I enjoy walking curbs to practice balance. It helps me remember when I was a child chasing rainbows...

Where Cats are King

After a full day rolling the World against a good wind and stopping many, many times for conversations we were about to get drenched by a storm when a man invited us to stop and take shelter. The world survived the days deluge under a carport while we were whisked to retrieve the van. Even though the day had the winds in our faces the wonderful people I met all day let me rest, gave Nice(the dog) constant attention. I am so thankful the man was there at that moment. Two minutes later and we would have been soaked.
I still haven't figured how to pronounce where I am, it de Catfish capitol of the world Des Allmends. Hope I didn't butcher the spelling too much. The people here are great.
Today is superbowl Sunday. I am hoping to make my way to a table with a view of the blowout. Maybe I can get some catfish.
Des Allemands y'all.

A Boutte iful View

The paint had enough breeze blowing over it to dry despite how late in the day I applied it. The world needed some attention and the sun racing to the pacific wasn't going to stop me. The rains came overnight. First a light sprinkle, then an hour or so later a good soaking rain. What paint didn't roll off from the rain or wear away on the rough wet sandpaper roadway did seal some thread-bare areas. The day was hard on the world. The roads stayed wet all morning, the trucks pulling out from the various dumps and industry threw dirt to the shoulder lane we walked and rolled upon pocking the world with hundreds of mud clots. It got so bad it made it difficult to roll. I rolled it through a long deep puddle in the ditch and found a towel on the side of the road to wipe it down. It wasn't the end of the dirt or sand building on the world but the roads were beginning to dry , I had to do something even if it meant rubbing off fresh half-dry paint. Several days of wet has the glue loosening some of the patches. Because of the overcast skies the layers of canvas couldn't dry enough for me to glue them. In the end, however, the world did survive to roll another day.
I enjoy small sights daily as I walk. The clouds, the sun rising and setting, the birds, the willows springing small leaves and so many other moments. Today I walked by a creek where a pipeline ascended from the water. As I walked by the seven turtles sprang into the water from the sunning spot on the pipe. They reminded me of a squadren of planes rolling out of formation one by one. It is those little things that I enjoy when I walk.
One woman stopped and gave me a fresh orange and an apple. She was not diabetic. Another, who was diabetic, offered me some snacks which I accepted (never one to turn down a kindness). It was a grab bag of bite sized portions of candy bars and cookies,two pairs of individual serving potato chips and mixed nuts with M&Ms. What's wrong with this picture? I thanked her and left that elephant-in-the-room alone; she had just agreed to walk so she would not loose her legs to diabetes like her mother so I didn't want to push it. And I wanted a cookie.
A young man came up to me wearing a shirt saying: I can only be nice to one person a day, today's not your day, tomorrow's not looking good. He had face piercings, tattoos all over his arms and a low-boy Mowhawk. He asked what I was walking for. I started with the story of me walking along the highway surrounded by corn fields as far as the eye could see a few years ago in Missouri when a woman stopped to tell me Micheal Jackson was in an ambulance on his way to the hospital and they think his condition was serious. Then I told him of two years ago when I began a ten state walk from Washington D.C. on Earth Day and it was weeks before I heard in passing conversation about the the disaster in the gulf but that I was walking for diabetes awareness. Some subjects are better left alone... The man later gave me a ride back to my van 14 miles back down the road. His shirt was not a true representation of his character. He was a hard worker and a volunteer firefighter. "Don't judge a book by it's cover."
I had stopped at Wally-world as I often have during my travels. They allow overnight parking for travelers all over the country except here and the store manager sent a woman out who apologetically asked me to leave. She told me that she had refused to call someone to "haul" the World off while I was gone to fetch the van. I took it in stride and walked a little way up the road to Majoria's Supermarket where the owner of the shopping center allowed me to stay without a bit of hesitation. The broasted chicken tastes better than that other place. A family business that still survives even with a superstore in the neighborhood. It worked out for the better, my walking a little farther,because I had a beautiful view of the sunset from Majoria's Supermarket.
The chance of rain will be fifty-fifty again tomorrow. I'll be walking again unless it rains first thing in the morning.
Will the world survive another day of neglect? Will the World ever dry up? Will Nice (the dog) ever find his long lost love, the blonde in the white chevy pickup?
Tune in next time,as the world turns..
I'm having a ball.

West We Go.

The day of rain let me rest after the New Orleans tour, the colorful neighborhoods, the bridges, ferry boats, etc. I was ready at dawn to walk thru Gretna on it's main drag of old, 4th street. I was called into the bar/diner beside the police station and the welcome center(tiny train station with a caboose along side) where the local gents were gathered to solve the worlds issues at the long table, the liars table. The tales they spun could fertilize a large garden. Next to them sat Gretna's finest. With a little help from the liars club I was able to get a patch from the city before I rolled on to the canal crossing and then back to US-90 heading West. I passed under the Huey P.Long Bridge ending the day in Westwego. A good day of lively conversations and Intereting people.
In this World of goals and schedules I suppose I should set my sights west. Texas sounds lofty enough. No promises of where we'll go from there or how long it will take to get there. Everyday I talk to people encouraging them to walk helps, wherever I am. Sometimes the message takes hold. A woman I met last winter as I walked past Cape Kennedy sent a communication, she had walked over 12 miles in one day and mentioned me to her Facebook friends... warm a fuzzy...
West we go, for now.

Excuses

The clouds are dropping scattered drops and a mist has driven Nice (the dog) back into his sleeping spot in the van. The balloon World has lost pressure in just a few minutes as the wind has pushed cold air from the north. I would usually take a chance and roll out but today I have decided to stay where I am, rest, walk the few tenths of a mile to wash my dirty clothes. Still struggling with the urge to get on the road despite raindrops falling on the screen of my Blackberry as I write. Today pride would just get me very wet...

The Big Easy, The Big Muddy, and me.

Rolling the World from Seminole Alabama to
cross the Mississippi River at New Orleans has left me a little tired. I didn't have the energy to stay up and write last night, I couldn't keep my eyes open after walking thru the Ninth Ward and across a drawbridge where I had to kick the World over as I carried Nice (the dog) over the grated span as traffic waited behind me, then zig-zaged down Royal and Bourbon streets against the one way traffic to Canal St. and the ferry which also had open grates I had to heft the eighty pound dog across to ride over the Mississippi, then a few miles more walking (against the wind) to a shopping center where I could leave the World in the care of strangers before getting a ride back to St.Bernard Parish and be led back over the river by the only man who offered a ride during my day of speaking to hundreds of tourists from Brazil to Germania and locals of every flavor and class. Nine hours to walk and three hours to drive there and back because of traffic and a broken down ferry boat. I would not trade it for a day relaxing on the beach. No one said this would be easy. No one said it would be this hard. Who'd of thought we'd go this far? It's like painting a house. One step at a time. Dip, brush repeat. Eventually you see results.
A chance of rain today, only a few sprinkles so far. I should get eady to walk now.
Walk, does a body good.