Wewahitchka

 A perfect pair of eyes grace the side of her face. Her nose is the river, Apalachicola, running always toward the bay and Port Saint Joe. Buster, I came across Wewahitchka one day out looking for tupelo honey and I fell in love with the sound of the name.

“That’s easy to do, for you, fall in love.”

Very easy and I don’t mind, but I have never been there. I want to find my way, one of these days. It sounds like a good place to go, to take a road trip. And while we’re at it let’s take in Tate’s Hell. Tate’s Hell used to be a swamp, a wetland, but it was drained to make way for commercial logging and 12 ecosystems were destroyed.

“Another insult to our Mother.”

That’s right, after that, you know what? Where there is money involved, people will rape the land, without a first or second thought. Now the fishermen wonder why Apalachee Bay is in such a mess. They want to blame the people in Georgia who use water out of the rivers. I’m sure that’s part of the problem, but I also imagine a lot of those problems originated in Tate’s Hell when it was forever changed by 40 years of logging; back then they called it land management.

“I hope they replanted some trees.”

The state took control of it in 1994 and now it’s called a State Forest. Florida is trying to return it to its natural state. Projects have been completed to that end, but it will take a very long time for it to return to its natural state if that’s even possible. We’ll have to be careful when we go there, Buster, I hear there are wild cats out there.

“Busters not scared of a wild cat, or any other kind of cat.”

There is black bear out there too, but I’m not sure how long they’ll last. The state has decided to declare war on bears.

“What does Florida have against bears?”

A bear kicked over a trash can in Tampa, so the legislature decided enough is enough and allowed permits to be issued to bear killers. They’ll be after the wild cats next. I tried finding us some boudin today, Buster, but I never found any. Something must have happened to the truck hauling the boudin.

“What’s boudin? Something to eat?”

Something good to eat, Buster Posey. But it was not in the cards for us to have any tonight. I drove to where the truck was supposed to be, but he was not there and I found out later what happened. All that means is that I drove a long way for boudin and came away with nothing but a craving for boudin.

“You never did say what boudin is, exactly.”

Boudin is a sausage that I have not had in quite a while. I used to get it in Lafayette and Henderson, Louisiana, but I don’t get by those places like I used to. I heard that a food truck here in Tallahassee had some boudin balls. I saw them featured on their menu. I went to where they were supposed to be parked today, but they were not. I’m having to do without, Buster, just like you said, so now, we’ll both have to do without. You might not like boudin, Buster, it may be too spicy for your sensitive pallet.

“I want to try some boudin. Bring Buster boudin!”

I’m not giving up, my little friend, today was a setback, but hopefully, Captain Q will get his act together and get his mess running again and one of these days, I will track him down. Maybe we'll run up on him on the road to Wewahitchka. Anything’s possible.

 

Buster’s Journal

14 August 2015

Tallahassee, Florida

Coffee without Donuts

I met a family, today, who was on a road trip together.

"Where were they tripping to?"

Going to T-Town, Buster, Tuscaloosa, Alabama to drop off a young man who's about to be a freshman at the University of Alabama. I was so proud of him. They stopped for a break, where I was having a cup of coffee.

"Lucky Goat?"

Of course, Lucky Goat, I had a little time to kill, and I was there drinking coffee, writing in my journal when this crowd came in and sucked all the air out of the room. They all talked at once and naturally, settled in next to me and I could not think to write with all of that carrying on. Once the caffeine kicked in, I struck up a conversation with the mother figure and she said yes, they are on their way to Tuscaloosa to take a pimple-faced young man in a crimson-colored shirt, to the Promised Land.

"Did you say any more, or was that all? I imagine you went on once you found that much out."

You know I did. I told them that Alabama was the finest University in the Southeastern Conference and that they, or he, had made a great choice. He said he was going there to study business. They were a very nice family. I tried not to bore them, but they knew at my reaction to where their road trip was bound, that I was very happy to hear of the destination.

"Did you mention rolling anything, Crimson anything, or Tide? Did you mention the Tide?"

I may have said Roll Tide a time or two; I mentioned that the response, Roll Tide, or Roll Tide Roll, was the appropriate response to all questions anyone may have, once they arrive at their destination. And I asked their son to hug Nick Saban's neck for me.

"I can see it now; you have no shame. Was the place full of Seminole fans?"

There were no other folks in the shop. I explained to my new friends that I was from Alabama and that my Mama passed on her Love of the Crimson Tide to me. And that I have been in Tallahassee for a few years and that in order to get along, I adore FSU and that I have an FSU hat that I wear around town so that folks will treat me better.

"Does it work?"

Does what work, Buster, you're speaking in riddles?

"Does the hat work? Do people see you in a different light when you wear the FSU hat as opposed to the Notre Dame hat?"

I believe they do. Wouldn't you?

"Maybe, maybe not. But that's not a fair question to the one you love, who loves you too."

That's the truth, I'm not one who “hates” people for a school they like. I like all schools, I'm not only an Alabama fan. I like school in general and open-minded people. I do care if a person is narrow-minded and unwilling to learn new things. I like libraries too. I need to get those poems in the mail to Apalachee Review.

"Do that already, if the poems are ready, do it tomorrow! You could have done that today, with all the time you had on your hands, drinking coffee at doughnut shops. How many pastry did you eat?"

I ate none, not one, Buster, the donut is not on my diet. I had coffee. I longed for the double chocolate donuts while they made my coffee. But I left them alone and that's the truth.

Buster's Journal

13 August 2015

Tallahassee, Florida