Love From My Brothers

Thanks to Corrie, who braved numerous misquito bites setting up this picture. I think it was worth it...



I’ve recently arrived in Cajun country, and as usual, it has not failed to disappoint. This is in large part due to the three wonders of the modern world: Austin, Bill, and John. Tonight they put on a concert, in which John performed with his mandolin, singing a song about how he “needs love from his brothers.” Later he began singing in Chinese, with the choruses in Japanese. Austin played keyboard, and by played keyboard I mean punched the disco sound beat key and laid down some free style rap. And then Bill, who is cuter than words can describe, puts on his heads phones and begins singing about how he recently has been “looking back on his life.” That’s right; all six years of it. The boys got soul.

At dinner tonight John dropped some Biblical knowledge on us and explained that Moses and his mother were born in Ireland. And he delivered his lecture with such passion and authority that no one even considered correcting him, and by the time he was done I almost believed him. So Moses calls the land of Scholars and Saints home. Perhaps there’s even a lost commandment about drinking your Guinness. Makes me think of the scene in Mel Brooks’ History of the World Part One when Moses, after accidentally breaking off part of the commandments tablet, proclaims, “I give you, the people 15—no, 10 commandments.”

Has anyone seen 1-10 West lately (Myles this is mainly directed at you)? The whole Houston to Baton Rouge stretch is under construction, which made my life today considerably difficult. It wouldn’t be so bad if there wasn’t a “Slow Down, My Mommy Works Here” sign every 10 miles. And of course the word “Works” has a backwards S. It’s maddening because any drop of plausibility evaporates when each construction site is full of men who from all outward appearances, seem to be dividing their time between napping and rubbing their bellies. Unless one of the omnipresent, short and heavyset Mexican men birthed a dyslexic child who has taken up road sign art projects, I’m not buying it.

It’s good to be home.