So February has a lot to offer. Valentine's Day, Black History Month, and President's day. Politics, culture, and love. And the third makes me gag. Last Valentine's day was so bad, there.... well, I'll get to that on that day. President's is cool, because it takes all the holidays you would have for a president's birthday and combines them all. Abraham Lincoln, Theodore Roosevelt and Ronald Reagan are my favorites. And Black History Month is interesting too, because we learn about the history and culture of African Americans, plus famous blacks, like Harriet Tubman, Dred Scott, Booker T. Washington, Maya Angelou, Martin Luther King Jr., Orpah (Oprah's real name before she changed it on account of everyone thinking it WAS Oprah) Winfrey, and, last, but least, President Barack Obama. I could name many more, but it's best that I get to the blog. Let me first say this: February is a very interesting month.
There was an area under the restaurant, where some tables were. But not inside, besides an area you open up by a wooden door. Then there's the little pavilion, and then a porch looking at the Gulf. But we did not go there, at least not at that moment anyway. We went up a wooden staircase on the side of the flat blue wood slated building, and when we got to the top we looked over the misty water. Nothing but fog. Only fog. We walked into a lady at the podium, blonde haired and looking pretty wary, short hair. We told her that it would be six people at the table. We were by a window, by the water. Dad sat with his back to the gulf, at one head. I was on the right of him, Rebecca on the left. Ann was going to be by Rebecca on her left, and Mickey at the opposite head with her back against the lady at the podium, and Mom would be on her right. So everything was arranged, and all we started talking and visiting. We ordered waters. I made a funny joke after answering the ladies question of what I wanted, "I'll have water. You seem to have a lot of it here." Get it, because we're on the shore of the gulf. Ice cold. And waited. Looked at the door, not knowing what the people would look like as I had not seem them before. As the door opened numerous times, we held our breath and didn't see Ann and Mickey. Waiting. Waiting. Rebecca on phone. A nice black haired pale faced waitress named Amanda coming and I introducing myself, and her commenting that "To Kill a Mockingbird" was a good book. More waiting.
Then, it happened. An elderly lady with very short hair, grey in color, with glasses and a dark green outer jacket, and it was very nice looking, plus a younger blonde haired lady with hair like my mother's. Mickey and Ann, in the order I stated them. Mom stood up, as did us, as we hugged them like old friends, which they were to Mom and not to us. I introduced myself as Andrew, which is basically how I introduce myself except when I'm lying and want to protect my identity (then I use either Patrick, Todd, or Austin), or on the flag football team I was on, where I wanted to look tough so I went as Drew. Either way you may call me. I answer to all, even Hey You, sometimes. But there's one name you may NEVER call me. Andy. I like the guy, the uncle is the best you could hope for, but I admit I don't like that name. Sorry Uncle Andy. I'm just not a fan of it. I dare you to call me that. Chances are you won't live to see tomorrow. "Secret Agent Man, secret agent man. Giving you a number and taking away you name." Sorry I listened to that song yesterday and says, "chances are you won't live to see tomorrow." Just joking, of course. I would never do that. Or maybe I would. Want to find out?
They sat down when we were done with our greetings. They all sat in the prearranged spots. It was like marrying someone in India. Already all arranged for you. Everything, class, job, house, spouse, kids, how many... ooh, it's gives me shudders to think about the people in that era of life. But back to the blog. Purses were put on chairs and we were all settled down, and talking began as we looked at the menu. Ann was nice to the drawing Rebecca; Rebecca loves drawing on kids menus. As Ann, Mickey, and Mom all chose a kind of trout salad, Rebecca got steak and mac'n'cheese, an interesting combination. Dad ordered a kind of chicken fingers. My decision needed time, but I eventually settled on a bowl of some kind of clam chowder with shrimp, chicken and beef all in there too. Boy would that end up being good. Mickey talked to me a little about how I looked like Uncle Andy and that he used to say the funniest and most animated things as a child. She told me a few humorous stories also. Ann informed Mom and Dad (I was listening to it too) that Gulfport got the eye of the storm of Katrina, that all these houses were knocked down, but that thankfully many people moved. She also told us about how she was behind the railroad tracks when it happened and was saved, but all the family members thought her and her husband were dead. The uncertainly of what your loved one's status is is unbearable. It really is.
"They always talk about how hard New Orleans was hit," she declared. "But all our homes got the hurricane, they just got the flood. We were hit harder with the hurricane." Rebecca thought this was complaining, but it was really not. It was just reasoning and telling real facts. Mom added that they got more publicity probably because those people stayed; they got hurricanes all the time and all the time their proclaimed to be bad, they have to pay for gas and go through a lot of trouble for nothing, so many stayed. Ann replied that was right. They were nice people. Very engaging, funny, good to talk to. I liked it. Ann asked if we had seen Beauvoir yet, the final home of President of the Confederacy Jefferson Davis. We said we had arrived last night and not seen it and were thinking of seeing it after the lunch with them. They said it was really worth the visit, very much so. Mom talked with Ann and Mickey about the family, their son being an artist, and reunions and different family members. Mom told about going to see an Aunt Mildred, and that they had a good final lunch, and that there was a person of the Help who was in another room. They talked about a Little Mama and a Big Mama, how Andy told a guy on a trip back that his pants were down, that the people drove quickly out of the area. And how Andy could imitate any person on Mom and Jeff's basketball team's throw and attitude. He sounded like he was a cool kid.
It was interesting to get an inside look on the olden days of the Jordan Family, their family members long passed away, to really get an idea of those days, the days when Mom didn't have me yet and the days when she was a kid. Simpler times. But it was really interesting. The food arrived, and that salad I spoke of earlier was given to the three women of the house. It looked good. Dad got his chicken fingers, Rebecca hers, and I waited for mine to come out. Ann was sad that it was all misty earlier, she wanted us to see the beauty of Gulfport and the view of the Gulf. Her wish was made. It did clear up, and we saw a bright yellow sun over wondrous blue waters, calm in stature. It was nice. We talked to Amanda after she brought out my steaming hot brown chowder, with the spices on it. She was from Missouri and we talked together about Hannibal (town of Mark Twain, not birthplace though, that would be Florida, MO) and St. Louis. Missouri, although it doesn't look like it, is a really cool and fun place for kids and adults. If you had a choice of any other children's museum or even a town called ChildTown, I'd pick St. Louis if I were you. But that's just my opinion. And Amanda's. And many other people though.
They had gotten fried green tomatoes, the ladies had (excluding Rebecca, she is a girl) and it was a lot better than the Nick's one. I guess Steve is just a better cook than Nick is. But I tried that soup as we talked some more. Oh it was really hot, it just danced and did cartwheels on your tongue and down your throat. The beef was chewy, the shrimp powerful, and the chicken was pretty good also. In the meal Mickey told me more funny stories and we talked a little bit about Mockingbird, but Dad took me aside and told me to let Mom talk to them, it was her choice to come here, and her relatives, so she should be the one to choose the subjects of conversation and have the talk. So I agreed, and went into the restroom a couple of times between intervals on account of the water. I love water a lot more than any milk, juice, soda, soft drink or even cranberry juice. Yeah, I said it. The restroom was at the end of the room to the left, only a little ways away from us. Apart from doing that I made a little comments, but not many, as Mom told them a lot about our trip and everything. But I won't go over it because all of that you already know, of course. In that time period I played a game with Rebecca on Dad's iPad, which we made up, where one person writes a letter and then another one does one, and it continues until it's at the end of the five letter word, where the final person finishes it off to make it make sense as a word. We did it on a drawing program Dad had on there. It was fun.
I went to the restroom as Dad paid the bill and Mom, Mickey and Ann went down in the elevator, while Rebecca too went to the restroom. On upon exiting we went down the wooden staircase, and put away Rebecca's leftovers she rarely later eats and my "To Kill a Mockingbird" book. We went through the wooden door on the bottom level, into an area where there was a kind of cage feeling, with the wood kind of crossing. There was an elevator here where you come off and then go out to the parking lot or into the pavilion. In the pavilion was wooden tables, and a bar to the far left, with a wooden porch at the back, with some plants on the top and some stairs going down to the beach. To the left, some sailboats and other things. We saw them three again, and Ann told Rebecca and I about Hat Island that was off the coast a little. Dad took pictures of us, which are on the blog under the Recent Highlights. As they talked, Rebecca played in the sand, I took some pictures for Dad, Dad and I talked about Katrina and floods in general while sitting down, and felt the cool chill of the breeze. I also daydreamed about writing a science fiction called The James Bronc Chronicles; since then I've been thinking a lot about making different writings, brainstorming.
Bit by bit we drifted out of the pavilion by the parking lot, talking and conversing all the way. We said goodbye from them, that we loved having lunch with them and meeting them, and that maybe we could see each other some time soon. They even spoke about us coming down and taking us in a boat to the island, and Mickey said she might bake cookies. We said final goodbyes and got in the car. I loved meeting them. Ann's good talking skills and funny comments, and the kindly old Mickey were both recognized. As they pulled away I took a final glance, not knowing I would never see Mickey again.
Let me explain this, while in New Orleans we got text messages from Ann, her saying that Ann had a stroke and was in the E.R. She then texted on the 29th of January, 2012 that Mickey had died, sadly. We were all very grieved by this terrible news. She had seemed so healthy just the week ago we'd seen her, and I had thought that even though at 81, older than my own grandmother, she looked so good. I was honored to have the great privilege of seeing her before her death, and even though I only met her once, I know she is a wonderful person and will be missed by many. We pray for her family, for anyone who knew her, and her memory rests in our hearts. It is so sad. When I saw her for the last time I had no way of knowing it would be the last time, or that only a week later she would be gone. Life is crazy, that's why you always have to be prepared for the loss of a loved one and cherish all time with them. Goodbye Mickey. We will miss you. Rest in Heaven, and we hope God holds you tight. Goodbye...for... now.
Even though I am grieved by the passing of Mickey, I have a duty to tell the rest of that day. Rebecca and I looked at her Eyewitness book about rocks, seeing the cover page with all the other published eyewitnesses .There were scratches and things, and some weren't there. Upon closer examination, I saw on the front it said that a CD came with it and a CD holder with nothing in there. We had gotten it at Barnes and Noble. Someone must have ripped it out and gotten away with it. I have to admit that's pretty smart, to rip it out, not needed to read the book, just the CD, and going out with just the CD, passing through the machines that beep off if something hasn't gone through check out. No clerk never probably thought about scanning the CD and putting it in the system, because it was attached to the book! Although the person did a terrible deed, I have to admit the thief is clever, the sly fox. But we couldn't deal with it now, and we were a little sad but not too much. We drove to a property with a white fence, and I'll describe it in depth later. At the gate the man said that the last tour was done, so we had missed it. Then we drove to a place where many horse trailers were, a big round coleseeum. A rodeo was that night. We went through the doors to the lobby, Mom and I did, and there was a lobby with stairs going up on left and right, hallways and a big fake bull people can take pics on. The lady at the counter told us the rodeo was that night, and we got tickets.
We passed by a big building full of stores, and one was Books a Million. It was quite small, compared to the others. As we parked in the lot I wanted to see if it was really big enough and had a million books. At first just Dad and I went in, and Dad looked at the magazines as he told me to be careful and stay in the store, I didn't have my phone with me and my holster I lost. For the next few days I had put my phone in my pocket jacket and in Mom's purse, a real pain. But for a long time I looked at some kids books, and saw some Rebecca would like and Redwall, plus Call of the Wild by Jack London and The Jungle book by Kipling. Mom and Rebecca went to the restroom. Then they got yogurt. I looked around at big DK's and asked a lady why on a table saying Hunger Games were other books with different authors. She asked another person, and she said that it was of the same GENRE of The Hunger Games, but not it. So I looked at the Redwall's and saw that there were some with the dead author's name on it, but published after his death. I asked a guy and all he could do on the Internet was tell me the list of the books, which wasn't helpful. He said he, "couldn't determine it." Oh well. And there wasn't a million books in there. Not that many.
Rebecca wanted to try a jumpy thing they had in the middle of the mall, where there was trampolines and poles with ropes, and a fence surrounding all this. A goth teenager put on the harnesses, and pushed her down and up, and then she went so high it was unimaginable. Soaring,jumping like a frog, kind of scared but not too much. Rebecca wanted me to do it too but I had done it before, and wanted to leaved, and also needed to go to the restroom. Mom and Dad took pics and told her to do a back flip. With hesitation and reluctance, she finally did and after being done I went to the restroom, with Rebecca and Dad already walking to the car. Mom bought me Call and The Jungle book. And then we drove back to the R.V. Dad told us that we needed to act country at the rodeo, otherwise we wouldn't fit in. We got on jackets and long shirts, waiting for seven, also eating sandwiches. I was excited to go to it, I had never been to one before. As we drove to the Coliseum, I knew it was going to be a very interesting time. And the cows wouldn't be the only entertainment.
TO BE CONTINUED...(SEE "LUNCH WITH ANN&MICKEY AND A REAL COUNTRY RODEO: A REAL COUNTRY RODEO" FOR END OF STORY)
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