The Longest Weekend

Here we all are coming out of the Forth of July weekend of America’s 237 year of independence; how does that not make y’all think of the current state of our freedom? Remember the Bill of Rights? They were awesome. Anyway, it’s been the longest dang weekend! Uncle Bubba’s weekend started the weekend before and rolled all week long. He and Sweet Pea had a stroke of good fortune befall them recently; their friend Bull purchased the house next door. Uncle Bubba and the Bull have been buddies now for some time, having been introduced through their other compadre the Duke. The Duke and Bull have been friends and business associates for years and have a long history of good times. So it’s a bonus for Uncle Bubba to have two good friends close by; well, on occasion. Bull is from Texas and still resides there as well. He bought the place next to Bubbie and Sweet Pea as a second “vacation” home. The plan for the past 2 weeks was for Bull to show up and they’d get busy making his new house into a Bull abode. They spoke of working some and playing some; this was actually an edict rung down from The Duke. Uncle Bubba took a little time to survey the house and property prior to Bull’s arrival and assessed that there was just too much work that needed to be accomplished before Bull started “moving in”. Bull agreed after his arrival and self perusal. Still, they rolled up their t-shirt sleeves and got busy tearing out the old, starting with the yard. The previous owners who had resided there some 46 years or more were old and hadn’t been able to keep up on the overgrowth of vegetation. The homegrown wrecking crew got busy and discarded three heaping 16 ft. trailer loads in the dump that resulted in Bull happily finding a much bigger yard than he had originally witnessed. It increased his view of the river by 10 fold. The sunny summer days were hot and humid reaching nearly 100 in the afternoons so the general rule, also directed by The Duke was to work hard for 30 minutes and then jump into the river to cool off, drink a cold beer, and then get back to work. Hey, it got done in a hurry so don’t knock it until ya try it.

Bull & The Duke

Mixed among the seemingly endless hours in the cool, clear river waters the “boys" spent a fair piece on their Harley’s taking short trips here and there and back again. One morning they dashed off to the Duke’s ranch to complete a couple chores before speeding back to town so the Uncle Bubba could make his dentist appointment. Oral hygiene is essential around these parts where they invented the toothbrush; that’s because most people round here only have one tooth. But not Bubbie; he has a fine set of choppers.

At any rate, Bull was on a mission from day one to get a plate full of delicious grouper, which isn’t as easy as it once was in restaurants; the fishing limits have been restricted lately to give nature some relief and to replenish the population. But one fine day Bubbie and the Bull jumped on the bike’s and opened them up down the coast to a bar & grill where they were able to score some fried grouper. Bull was satisfied in that it was a good start and more would come. As they swung from their bar stools and walked out to their hawgs Bull paused and then said to Bubbie, “I can’t believe that this is going to be a part of my life!”
“What do ya mean gonna be? Bubbie asked, “You’re living it now.”
Bull smiled and said, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Day after day they swam and rode. They ate some great meals and in the evenings they sat around and played cards, listened to music, and talked. Uncle Bubba’s friend Crash joined them and the two of them played guitars and sang some favorite songs; some they practiced and some they fielded as requests and amazingly managed to pluck out. The charcoal grills burned with smokey goodness wafting on the air. Friends drifted in and hung around; some even danced. Their children splashed in the water and were chased like greased pigs at the fair as the adults tried to get the objectionable, squirming tykes slathered in sunscreen. There was no bigger kid there than Bull. The previous owner left a water pump and several lengths of 1 1/2” hose behind that he had used to clean out the algae in the swimming hole. It works as an enormous, underwater pressure washer and Bull was on the dumb end of that thing incessantly. He even referred to it as addicting. It has so much power that if one lost their footing it could propel them effortlessly thru the water; even Bull who is a Texas sized man. But he enjoyed it and had the swimming hole sparkling clear in a few days time.

The Bull and the pump.

Yessir, it’s been the longest weekend; Sweet Pea called it "the boy’s week” but to hear Uncle Bubba describe it, they lost track of the days for all of the fun they were having. In Bubbie’s view, what’s one extended week of the men having fun when the rest of the year around here is equivalent to “Girl’s Night Out”.

Cumberland Island Or Bust

Uncle Bubba was sipping on a cup of hot coffee while watching a Sunday morning news story about Cumberland Island off the coast of Georgia. It was a soft piece told in a romantic and nostalgic tone of how the rich enjoyed it during the gilded age, from the 1880’s, blah, blah, blah. Long story short, the Carnegie’s bought most of the island and built mansions on it so they could vacation and party with their rich friends and family. OK, it was their right; Uncle Bubba likes to throw a good party as much as anyone. Eventually, as times changed and their fortunes declined the ancestors donated the property to the parks service. The hair on Bubbie’s neck stood up when the reporter, in an offended tone, asked the park ranger if they let the properties just disintegrate over time. The ranger respectfully replied that they use their funding to save what they can. In Bubbie’s view, if the doggone rich Carnegie's wanted to save their own mess they would; why are we paying for it? And why is letting the island return to nature bad; isn’t that the ultimate beauty?

The Watermelon Patch

The Duke called to ask if Uncle Bubba would go over to his river house and measure the bench seat in his outdoor shower. The wooden seat is rotting out and he wants to cut a new one. He has a thick piece of cypress in the barn but needs to know the measurements. It sounded as though the Duke was slightly out of breath, which is not so unusual, so Bubbie asked what he was doing. He excitedly told him that they were starting to pick watermelons today. It’s a new venture for the Duke and the first time as he planted quite a few acres. The Duke’s enthusiasm peaked Uncle Bubba’s interest so he rode up to Williston to check things out. It was so cool! Though Uncle Bubba had seen them do it many times from afar, he learned a lot and felt oddly privileged to get up close and personal.

He rolled up on the watermelon patch and there was heavy action. Parked pickup trucks lined the weedy roadside near the sandy road entrance to the field and just beyond the barbed wire fence were white beehive boxes stacked in the high grass. He could see the Duke’s pickup truck out near the middle of the field and he was standing next to it under his cowboy hat talking to the workers. The Duke saw Uncle Bubba pull up; he waved and hopped into his truck and headed towards the entrance. He pulled up aside Bubbie’s truck and rolled down his window to say that one of the work trucks just knocked over one of the bee boxes and the bees were swarming. He told Bubbie to hurriedly follow him thru the field to the back to get away from the bees. They pulled into the patch on the dirt road and Bubbie could easily see rows and rows of green melons crowning among the lush green plants, as well as three rows of black men cutting, picking and loading onto 2 old yeller school buses.

It’s not usual to see these watermelon buses on the roads this time of year; they chop the sides and tops out of them, remove all of the seats and throw carpet over the cut edges for padding and to protect them, and more importantly the fruit from getting cut. They walk in single file rows next to the bus and pick the melons fire brigade style. With the minimum melon weight of 17 lb., one can easily imagine how heavy they are to be bending over, picking up each melon and hand tossing it to the next man in line until they toss it to the men in the bus who stack them.

There is another crew of sweating, hunched over black men that walk ahead of the pickers and they cut the fruit from the vines. They look for the best melons and when found, a quick slice from their sharp 4 inch blade slips through the vine detaching the melon. They know how to select the correct melons based on size and “the break”. The break is when the rind separates into the green and white colored stripes. The whiter the stripes the more ripe the melon. When they cut a melon free, they flip it over so that the yellowish colored rind that was on the ground is sunny side up. Then the pickers know that it has been cut.

It’s hard work man, and no shade from the ol’ Florida sun. But nothing that this white man wouldn’t do if he was so inclined. One does what they have to do and are qualified to do to make a living. They’ll work this field for 3 1/2 weeks before it’s depleted. They’ll make pass after pass over those weeks to get the ripest fruit, leaving the rest to ripen for picking later. Uncle Bubba and the Duke talked about the things the Duke has learned since undertaking this venture. From clearing the field that he had been using as a pasture to the planting. It takes one seeded plant, the male plant to pollinate 4 seedless (female) plants. So the field is planted by hand placing one male plant between 3 or 4 female plants. The Duke took Uncle Bubba out to the wooded area beyond the field to show him the boulders and rock pile that they amassed in clearing the field. They stood in the cool shade for a while and discussed the politics that interfere with and inhibit the small farmers ability to make a decent living. While by the rock pile they kept a watchful eye and a harkened ear for rattlesnakes; they like the cracks and crevasses in between the rocks and rocks are pretty rare in Florida.

Uncle Bubba’s belly was talking to him as it was long past noon. He left the patch and drove over to Frog’s Barbecue for some jumbo pulled pork sammiches, freedom fries, and sweet iced tea. He got them to go and met the Duke over at the packing plant. They sat on a tailgate under a large hickory tree and gorged themselves on the spice barbecue under the watchful gaze of a polite but slobbering red bloodhound. The packing plant is where the rattletrap melon buses deliver the fresh picked melons to be boxed and shipped up the east coast. The buses are backed in the loading dock and the melons are hand placed on a conveyor. The workers separate the melons into the proper boxes based on them being seeded and seedless. As you may know, the more round seedless melons look distinctively different than the seeded that are longer. As the packers load the melons in the boxes, they slap a barcode stick on each one.

At 750 lbs per box, that’s a load! By the way, shortly after Uncle Bubba had arrived at the watermelon patch, the Duke proudly grabbed one from the field and handed it to Bubbie. Uncle Bubba was very thankful and honored to receive one of the inaugural melons. It don’t get no fresher than that! Good times!

SOUTHERN HOROSCOPE

WHAT'S YOUR SOUTHERN SIGN?

Some of us Southerners are pretty skeptical of horoscopes and the people that read them. If we are to ever fully understand all the star signs and the people they represent, we need symbols that all true Southerners understand: See the list below...

OKRA (Dec 22 - Jan 20) Are tough on the outside but tender on the inside. Okras have tremendous influence. An older Okra can look back over his life and see the seeds of his influence everywhere. You can do something good each day if you try.

CHITLIN (Jan 21 - Feb 19) Chitlins come from humble backgrounds. A Chitlin, however, will make something of himself if he is motivated and has lots of seasoning. In dealing with Chitlins, be careful they may surprise you. They can erupt like Vesuvius. Chitlins are best with Catfish and Okra.

BOLL WEEVIL (Feb 20 - March 20) You have an overwhelming curiosity. You're unsatisfied with the surface of things, and you feel the need to bore deep into the interior of everything. Needless to say, you are very intense and driven as if you had some inner hunger. You love to stay busy and tend to work too much. Nobody in their right mind is going to marry you, so don't worry about it.

MOON PIE (March 21 - April 20) You're the type that spends a lot of time on the front porch. A cinch to recognize the physical appearance of Moon Pies. Big and round are the key words here. You should marry anybody who you can get remotely interested in the idea. It's not going to be easy. You always have a big smile and are happy. This might be the year to think about aerobics. Maybe not.

POSSUM (April 21 - May 21) When confronted with life's difficulties, possums have a marked tendency to withdraw and develop a don't-bother-me-about-it attitude. Sometimes you become so withdrawn, people actually think you're dead. This strategy is probably not psychologically healthy but seems to work for you! . You are a rare breed. Most folks love to watch you work and play. You are a night person and mind your own

business.

CRAWFISH (May 22 - June 21) Crawfish is a water sign. If you work in an office, you're hanging around the water cooler. Crawfish prefer the beach to the mountains, the pool to the golf course, and the bathtub to the living room. You tend not to be particularly attractive physically, but you have very, very good heads.

COLLARDS (June 22 - July 23) Collards have a genius for communication. They love to get in the melting pot of life and share their essence with the essence of those around them. Collards make good social workers, psychologists, and baseball managers. As far as your personal life goes, if you are Collards, stay away from Crawfish. It just won't work. Save yourself a lot of heartache.

CATFISH (July 24 - Aug 23) Catfish are traditionalists in matters of the heart, although one's whiskers may cause problems for loved ones. You Catfish are never easy people to understand. You run fast. You work and play hard. Even though you prefer the muddy bottoms to the clear surface of life, you are liked by most. Above all else, Catfish should stay away from Moon Pies.

GRITS (Aug 24 - Sept 23) Your highest aim is to be with others like yourself. You like to huddle together with a big crowd of other Grits. You love to travel though, so maybe you should think about joining a club. Where do you like to go? Anywhere they have cheese, gravy, bacon, butter, or eggs and a good time. If you can go somewhere where they have all these things, that serves you well. You are pure in heart.

BOILED PEANUTS (Sept 24 - Oct 23) You have a passionate desire to help your fellow man. Unfortunately, those who know you best, your friends and loved ones, may find that your personality is much too salty, and their criticism will affect you deeply because you are really much softer than you appear. You should go right ahead and marry anybody you want to because in a certain way, yours is a charmed life. On the road of life, you can be sure that people will always pull over and stop for you.

BUTTER BEAN (Oct 24 - Nov 22) Always invite a Butter Bean to a party because Butter Beans get along well with everybody. You, as a Butter Bean, should be proud. You've grown on the vine of life, and you feel at home no matter what the setting. You can sit next to anybody. However, you, too, shouldn't have anything to do with Moon Pies.

ARMADILLO (Nov 23 - Dec 21) You have a tendency to develop a tough exterior, but you are actually quite gentle and kind inside. A good evening for you? Old friends, a fire, some roots, fruit, worms, and insects. You are a throw back. You're not concerned with today's fashions and trends. You're not concerned with anything about today. You're almost prehistoric in your interests and behavior patterns. You probably want to marry another Armadillo, but a Possum is another somewhat kinky mating possibility.

Holiday Hangover

It’s been a while since I’ve visited with Uncle Bubba. Life often gets in the way of so many things that we’d much rather being doing; doesn’t it? Fortunately, we have the power to change that and we can get back to where we’d rather be with a little desire and determination. So I took a ride out the long dirt road to Uncle Bubba’s and Sweet Pea’s home in the country. As is routine they invited me in and the aroma the floated on the air was intoxicating as always with Sweet Pea’s cooking. On this winter’s afternoon she had a pork roast simmering in ginger ale, honey, dijon mustard and spices in a crock pot. We all took a seat at the kitchen table and visited; catching up on the lost days since we were last all together. The holidays have just past and the lethargic hangover is coming over us as the blah malaise of the winter days fold into one another. After all of the anticipation of the new year and new beginnings, it seems that we’re still waiting in less than enthusiastic baited anticipation.
“But for how long?” Bubbie asks. “I reckon that at some point we realize that it’s up to us; we have to get up and make things happen.”
That’s sage advice that we all know but often have to be reminded of. It always seems to be a little more poignant to me coming from a reasonable, plain and prudent person like Uncle Bubba.

As we sat in their cozy home and talked my thoughts kept returning to the event; sitting with good folks and visiting. It seems to be a lost, or if not lost, a waning custom. For one thing it takes time. One has to slow down and be committed to making the effort to get together and engage in undistracted and polite conversation. It’s nice; enjoyable even. And I always come away from each experience feeling as if I’ve gained something. Bubbie and I have talked about this very thing time and again and I recall him saying, “A lazy man don’t roast any game, but the diligent feast on the riches of the hunt.” It’s a paraphrased verse from the bible; Proverbs 12:27. It’s also the one of the off key statements of candor that Bubbie makes that sticks with you. Obviously it’s his way of saying don’t be lazy. Sure, easier said than done; but always worth it.

I must admit that I came to this visit because I recently found out that a dear friend of mine had passed away while I was out of town. Few people knew of it. One of Kenny's last wishes was that he didn’t want to raise a fuss so his wife kept it low key. I only found out about his passing by chance when my wife ran into his wife in the grocery store. She returned home and delivered the sad news. Why is it that we only get a clear picture of the important things in life when some tragic event pops up? For me it’s the people in my life, my relationships that mean the most. We’re always going to stop in a visit this person and invite over that person, but it seems that we seldom do. We have too many “me” things to look after but as soon as we get those things done and out of the way we’ll make time for others. Yeah right. I reckon that’s backwards folks and I’m as guilty as you. We don’t know when someone’s passing or even our own will come. Maybe that’s the point, that if we bury our heads in our own crap we won’t have to think about it. So how’s that working out for ya? Me? Not so good. I’ve found out over and over again that I usually get what I need much faster if I’m helping others. Something I heard Zig Ziglar preach countless times much later in my life. But too soon I fall back on old narcissistic habits and the cycle goes ‘round again. But I can promise that I will never stop trying to get on a new cycle and stay on it.

In talking to Sweet Pea and Uncle Bubba, he mentioned that he was recently chatting with someone about trying too hard. The person was worn out from trying and getting very little in the way of progress. This person was sure that if she just hung in there and kept trying that sooner or later she’d get the result that she was after.
“True enough.” said Bubbie, “But sometimes we have to learn to let go. Sometimes we have to realize that we’ve hit a wall and it’s time to take a new path. Didja ever notice that y’all often get what ya wanted as soon as y’all stopped looking for it?”
I had to admit that it was true. How many times have my keys turned up after I’ve torn the house apart 3 times without finding them. Then after I’ve given up and got focused on other things, I find them by chance in the most inconspicuous place. Or like they say, you never find your true love until you’ve stopped looking for them. In Bubbie’s view it’s because you have to give the Universe a chance to breathe. So here I go. I’m bucking the system and making things happen. I am determined to start new beginnings while fostering my relationships. No sir, no hangover here. It’s time to feast on the riches of the hunt.