We were on a hike a couple of weeks ago in Saint Bernard State park just south of New Orleans. We came across an old swimming pool, closed down, locked up behind a half torn down chain-link fence. We studied it and wondered if alligators had moved into its green waters waiting for one last skinny-dipper. As we were leaving we noticed the POOL RULES dangling from the fence. Typical stuff; no shoving No food & rink, no running, no underwear showing, no bandanas.
“No bandanas,” I thought perhaps it was because of gang rivalries at the pool. That is why its all closed down. So I said to Sue, “Thats a strange rule about the bandanas.” She said that they probably don’t allow them because the kids roll them up and snap each other on the butts.
Sue believes in giving everyone the benefit of the doubt. I do too, but my mind doesn’t automatically permit it every time.
Another funny incident was on the interstate just west of Houston, Texas. The traffic was still crowded from the city even though we were heading west into the wilds, and we were out of town. Mica & Colin were a few cars ahead of us leading the way to the house in LaGrange. A huge cattle truck slowly started to pass us in the left lane. Horizontal aluminum bars and a gate just a few feet out the drivers window. It wan’t the first one. I could make out the cattle’s fir through the fencing as it loudly passed. As its tail lights were even with our front doors a liquid started gushing out the side of the trailer, and some of it splashed on our windshield. I wooped and laughed. “Welcome to Texas. The cows are urinating on us.” Sue said, “That’s not cow urine. That’s someone cleaning out the truck as they go down the highway.” I became obsessed with the vision of some poor soul trying to balance himself between the crowded cows bounding down the interstate, mop in one hand and a bucket of warm soapy water in the other. I am glad that Sue sees a world where cows and men all behave their best.
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