More Sources

My other active blogs:


History Hunts Blog http://historyhunts-blog.blogspot.com/

Following Louisiana's & Mississippi's Historic Railroads http://oldrrs-blog.blogspot.com/

Finding the Lumber Mill Railroads http://lumbermillrrs.blogspot.com/

Following the Historic Rails of Mississippi http://mississippirails.blogspot.com/


One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer

It seems that I have been doing for others, toting the line, and for the most part, being a pretty good boy.

Cheerfully accepting that as my fate ..... has never been my forte'.  I have to balance my boogie, and my

boogie needed balancing.


To draw on Tina Turner's opening lines of "Proud Mary",  I'll start this one easy and then, a little later,
it will get rough.


Here we go.

The first line, up above, applies to what is next. I've had to go to Southeast Louisiana quite a bit, lately.  A lot, lately.  So much, I drive stupid routes to avoid repetition.  Thankfully, it's less than a three hour drive at the most stupid. One of those stupid routes takes me by the new construction on the Zee Branch, Slaughter to Mannheim.  Progress on the line is so slow it may afford a break in the monotony, for a while.
Note: If you really like these pictures, you can click on them and they get real big.
This is the crossing on La.964. The lights are going to be impressive, I hope.
A bunch of money, 
maybe ours, is being spent, here.
When you hear "state grant", your bank account just shrunk.


Way down there is an old Illinois Central Gulf caboose dying as the vines carnivorously eat away.



 Going into Slaughter, this one is done.



It was good they tilted it with the road offering  up a slanted view, much like the our media.

The rest of the pictures show nothing new and since I got no response from posting the ones those resemble, I'm surely not going to post these.

Notice that this is getting rough.
It will get rougher.

After returning home, I dutifully unloaded the car,
head butted a tree, then kicking it in revenge for my bleeding head. 
I heard it ask, "What was that all about"?
I replied that I was in a slump and needed some radical self indulgence.
It replied that I should go chase a flippin' train or something because 
the next time I kicked it would be the last as trees 
have feelings, and feeling abused has consequences.
That had a familiar ring or maybe it was just my dinged head.

I, getting the message from this big perturbed tree, apologized.
The tree, accepting, suggested that  I relieve my pitiful self pity with 
a no holds barred train chase, not just any, but against the fastest the 
railroad had to offer.

I thought for a moment that possibly this tree was luring me 
into a place from which I might not return, much to his delight.
I know he wanted to kick me back but not having feet precluded
that. They can swing a limb at you as I learned up on 587 in 
Mississippi. I was already backing up because talking with 
an irate tree was entering uncharted territory.

Mulling it over, and considering the fact that the tree was an oak,
a species known for its strength and kindness, possibly,
he was being sincere in his suggestion.

I charged, head butting him once again. 
He laughed and said, "That's the spirit".
 And, as his long locks dropped from his cop helmeted top {for lack of a better description}, 
he  began to sing.
"Get your motor running
 Head out on the highway
Looking for adventure
In whatever comes our way
Yeah, darlin'
Gonna make it happen
Take the world in a love embrace
Fire all of your guns at once
And explode into space
I like smoke and lightnin'
Heavy metal thunder
Racing in the wind
And the feeling that I'm under
Yeah, darlin'
Gonna make it happen
Take the world in a love embrace
Fire all of your guns at once
And explode into space
Like a true nature's child
We were born
Born to be wild
We can climb so high
I never wanna die
Born to be wild
Born to be wild
Get your motor runnin'
Head out on the highway
Looking for adventure
In whatever comes our way
Yeah, darlin'
Gonna make it happen
Take the world in a love embrace
Fire all of your guns at once
And explode into space."

Looking at my watch, then throwing it away, I headed to New Iberia to shake it up.
There wasn't a car at the L&D yard.
I was feeling hostile and there wasn't anyone there to be hostile to.
I became even more hostile.


At the station, there she was, looking down on me.
I de-biked, turned around and mooned Mz Blue Nose, in my arsenal, a fairly hostile gesture


I rode around and gave her a swift kick in the tail end.  Some kid saw me and went off crying that the mean 
man had kicked his train.  Get a life kid, it happens all the time.
.

The crew was at the window yelling and pointing with the ugly finger.
I made a point to point back.


I raced ahead and planned a surprise pointing. 


Check out the window. They were all upset and I was laughing like a hyena and feeling much better.
An evil spirit had left my body and entered theirs.
As the song sings, "you can make it happen, take the world in a love embrace". Ha!


The conductor was pointing at me out the back window.
Really, what kind of example are you, sir?
I dropped the hammer and passed that car.


He, in turn, passed me back.


The conductor had enlisted all the passengers and now, they were pointing their ugly fingers at me.
I felt even better, if that was possible.


He opened the door and return-mooned me back. Get a shave dude.


I raced up the Evangeline Thruway.
L&D was working there. Yep, you know what I did.


Then I got behind a garbage truck, the same garbage truck I'd been behind since Cade.
I suppose I smelled like garbage cause I couldn't smell the truck anymore. You know that rule, don't you?


In beautiful downtown Lafayette, La. I rode by as the passengers jeered and booed, much to my delight,
their ugly fingers wilting with fatigue.




They travel in twos for obvious reasons, to some.
Personally, I  have no idea.


Even the rubbish was tired of their presence.


I crossed the yard overpass and they were gone




I returned home.
I offered the tree some water to which he replied, "No thanks, but, I'll take .... 
One bourbon, one scotch, one beer".

To that I complied as I told him of my outing. 
Paternally, in a slurred voice, he replied, "You're Ok, man, but you're not right", which was indeed reflective,
but  made me even happier, nevertheless,
considering the source was a grinning, fairly drunken ... tree.
The end.