Things I Miss

A friend of mine from Patterson, Louisiana is Glen Cook. Growing up, his mom had a blue Dodge pickup truck. I don’t know how many times I saw Glen, his brothers Gerald and Jeff, and their sister Loretta riding in the back of the truck to and from church. I know there were times they probably didn’t want to have to sit scrunched together in the cab and that’s why they jumped in the back, but I am willing to bet most times they rode in the bed of the truck because they could. They wanted to and of course, it was more fun.

How many times do I remember heading to Cypremort Point to go swimming or meet others from church for a picnic and Ray, Lonnie, Glen, myself and other boys would be in the bed of the truck flying down Highway 90 at 60 miles an hour. All of us would be in cut off jeans, shirts off, our skinny, tanned bodies soaking up more sun, our hair flying in the wind, our laughter rolling across the four lane, our movements erratic as we bounced around the metal interior of one of our parent’s trucks. Could something have happened to us? Of course. Did anything happen to us? No. Did we live in the moment, carefree, full of life and excited about the prospect of knowing we were off on another adventure? Certainly. Are kids allowed to ride in the back of pickup trucks these day? Not a chance. That’s too bad. I miss riding in the back of a pickup truck.

A few days ago I was sitting in a dentist’s chair for my 6 month cleaning and check up. My dentist has video monitors on the ceiling above each chair and you can pick out a movie or video to watch while you are otherwise not enjoying yourself and wanting to be someplace else. So here I am watching a Journey’s Greatest Hits Collection with videos from the 70’s to right before lead singer Steve Perry left the group. One of the video’s was from a concert from the “Escape” album. (1981 and my favorite Journey album of all time) The camera pans into the crowd where the audience is singing along with the band and holding up their lighters. Tiny yellow and blue flames fill the arena which is an incredible sight and a way for us, as members of the audience, to connect with the band and to say, “this is great, thank you.”

Last year, Nancy and I took in an outdoor concert with two of my favorite bands, Kansas and Boston. Nancy splurged and bought us tickets on the floor, in the center on the 4th row. The venue was dark except for the lights on stage and the giant video monitors behind the band. I was excited, singing along (not loud of course since I can’t sing) and very much caught up in the moment and being able to see these incredible musicians perform live. I turned around to look at the crowd and I saw hundreds of lighter flames being waved in the air. Except they weren’t lighters but pictures of flames from everyone’s smart phones. It just wasn’t the same. I miss going to a concert and waving a real lighter in the air, singing along with the band.

There is nothing like a hot, humid summer in South Louisiana. The long days, sticky with moisture, high temperatures, some days with very little wind, can make Summer drag on and on. By the time August rolls around, the anticipation for Fall and cooler weather has grown to the point one believes God is playing jokes on us and deliberately withholding the next season. But just as sure as high school football will begin, so will the weather change. When I lived in Patterson, LA as a kid, my favorite season of the year was Fall. I was anxious to enjoy the first cold snap, as my dad would call the weather pattern where a cold front would move through the area. Just as sure as there would be high school football, just as sure as there would be cooler weather, we would certainly see the acres and acres of tall sugar cane cut, burned and harvested. I miss the smell of sugar cane burning.

For those of you who have never had the pleasure of smelling sugar can burning in an open field, I’m sorry. For those of you who don’t think of burning sugar cane as a pleasant smell, I’m sorry. When asked what does it smell like, I have a difficult time describing it. It is similar to the smell of leaves burning, after all that is what is happening, but with a sweeter fragrance. It’s distinct and it would always tell me Friday night football games would require a jacket as the nights would be cooler, the long days of summer had ended, the threat of a hurricane would just about be over and my dad and I would start fishing on Saturday mornings. I miss the smell of sugar cane burning and all of the reasons that time of year was special for me.

On more than one occasion, I have been told to let go of the past and think about the present and the future. The idea I guess is to not dwell on the past as you can’t change it so it is better for one’s well-being to live in the moment and prepare for the days ahead. I get that but I also feel like it’s a good thing to recall and remember days past, the memories that were made, the friendships forged in our youth that remain, the good times and the one that weren’t pleasant. All of those things shaped our lives and we can learn from the past, be rewarded with those happy thoughts in our mind’s eye and now, with the environment we find ourselves, it’s wonderful to share with family and friends what it was like when we………

From Back to the Bayou, by Steve Achord