I've been really enjoying this read and don't think it to be entirely by chance that I happened to do some research on Bear Grylls of Man vs. Wild immediately before starting. The guy named one of his son's Huckleberry, and I was thinkin' of doin' the same. The book really brings out the Southuhna in me, y'know? Well, the poser at least. I warn't there too long. Formative kindy years tho'.
Well I gots to thinkin' and began considerin' what the name would sound like: Huckleberry Finn LaFerriere when it struck me that it looks awful pretty in that ol' rustic way I love so much. Let's just see what's my wife's got to say 'bout it someday, if she ain't compaterble, well, she can blame it on Mr. Mark Twain.
All right, the effects are startin' to wear off. Starting. Dammit. Buts anways, (this is driving me crazy, literally can't stop) today was pretty decent. Ryan Fassett begins talkin' (talking!) to me about what my "blog" should be like. What I should put in. Talkin' (talking! fool me twice.. get out of my head, Huck!) to a deer perhaps.. how bout's gym badminton? Okay, fine, I gave in and added the 's' but the lack of an a came on its own, I promise. I just can't stop now that I've started. But yep.. I did. Add CIA to the list of honorable mentions.
So life was good. Got my lift in, got my homework done, got my eyes tired.. Got some grades up and some grades down.. finally got back my video project from Marking Period 1 or 2.. been way too long. But things went along in their characteristic smooth way and I feel pretty contented. God only knows how many times I forgot it was Valentine's Day. Even the candy I ate didn't really remind me all that much of what's been going on.
On account of family plans with Dad, best to be respected bein' as we're 'bout to take off in 'round a week, I missed the football championship rings ceremony. I figure I might be able to pick it up later, 'barrasment as it may be. It didn't upset me too much, however, because of the circumstances under which I discovered he would not be coming home tonight. I heard some of the sweetest things to the sight of a sunset and the chill of a late winter's breeze. Things were pretty splendid.
So I did what felt natural at the time and wrote down all that I was hearing from the wonderfully innocent little boy's lips, sounded like it was his very first spring to me. I texted it to myself with a little followup as to how little kids are so impeccably able to make my day. Here's what I heard right about how I heard it:
"Whoa! WHOA!! There's like a thousand birds! Mom! Momm! MOM! Mom mom mom mom mom. Mooooom! Mom MOOM!"
- Sweet Child on the Return of the Birds
My spiritual reaction:
Little kids make my day..
Near everything was beautiful from that point on. I got to thinkin' about just how wonderful life is all the time. From the simplest of things. I couldn't remember the words to "What a Wonderful World," so as I paced I sang to myself my own version. Acute observations, just whatever to keep the song going. And it was nice. It was personal. It was worship. It was eventually the highest of laud to God. What an artist.
I love life. I get this all natural high out of a love for nature. I start jonesing to give something up to God, just as anything with a preformed purpose must always itch to do, subconsciously or not. There's a lot to live for, a lot to love, and a lot to fight passionately for. I also read a ridiculous article as to why Christians should not join the military today.. that was annoying, yet beautifully so when you get to thinking about it. How is it that we're even allowed to be annoying? Isn't that the peak of grace itself? That we're allowed to be stupid?
Haha I don't know.. I always jump to the "highest of" when I'm talking about God Almighty, but whatever goes goes, you know? I just write down what I'm thinking. Backspace's purpose is reserved only for the correction of typos, by which I mean strictly keyboard mistakes. I don't rephrase sentences and I don't do grammatical correction (unless it misconstrues my thinking). My lax point is the prevention of misinterpretation. Whatever crosses my head I put down. That's why you get some insensitive sarcasm sometimes, because it's just not censored. This is me to you, uncensored, except slightly refrained as is my thinking under the pressures of an audience. It's still solely what I think and it's still solely a journal, presented to an audience yet written inherently personally.
I've been doing a lot of thinking about hitchhiking to Miami recently. Cheap plane tickets from there to Costa Rica or further South.. I've been considering some Peruvian things recently as well, as well as becoming part of some year long volunteer opportunities to do on my own before I go off to college. Hitchhiking to Miami would not only be practical and a lot of fun, but also an educational adventure in itself. Get to see the lay of the land on my own a little bit, and to depend upon self-reliance and the munificent courtesy of those around me. Wouldn't that just be swell?
I wouldn't even want to bring all that much. Just a backpack with some clothes in it, maybe my laptop, my phone and its charger, toiletries optional, and then my guitar, a journal, and a pen. I was thinking a lot about what it'll be like in truck stops. What kind of pseudonyms I could try out. Colby Lami might be cool. Roscoe Peterson, like we were thinking of naming Will? All he wanted was Roscoe. James Bourne like the spies? Jack Meridius, like the badasses? Benjamin Wallace, like Mel Gibson's best roles?
Would I let them know they were pseudonyms? Would I be more respectful and grateful or playful and attractive? Would probably depend on the drivers. Say it's this extraordinary World War II vet type of guy, best to be very reverent and enjoy his experience and the extensive life left in him. Listen to his stories and be fascinated. Inspired. Motivated. Enthralled. Or say it's a medium suburban family from Maryland? Quality, straight-up American family.. like the Middle kind. I'd meet the Axl guy on his level and joke around, try to be a sweet big brother and encouraging teaser of Brick, and just generally cool to the Sue. Joke around with the Dad, be the kind of guy that mothers-in-law love to the Mom. Whatever. Just possibilities. Optimally, I get picked up by a bunch of gorgeous Virginia, Carolinas, or Georgia college babes heading South for the summer. Then I'd get to mess around the whole trip, be the life of the party, and just have a generally good time. I'd be sorry to get out of that car, though. How about the rough and rustic truck driver? Might get to sleep through that one, or I might get to make his day special with a bit of company. Just pass back and forth some Alaska-esque stories. Or say I get stuck with some kind of pestilent, impossible to get-along with guy that I have no clue of why he would pick up a hitch hiker.. assuming I don't turn him down and wait for another ride to come along, I might take it on like a welcome challenge. Figure the guy out like an obnoxious professor and let on like I'm just trying to get on his good side for the grades. All these possibilities. All this romanticism. All this adventurous realism. A thoroughly enjoyable experience of getting to know people as a whole. Who knows what the East Coast has got in store?
Then it'd all be great work down in Peru or Costa Rica.. or terrible work that I'd love all the same. Let the surprises come as they will.
It's kinda like the voyage down the Mississippi between Huck and Jim, say I meet another hitchhiking partner heading down the same direction and we join up. We could put on the acts together. What if one of us wanted to take on a persona? What if one of us wanted to pull a prank like pretending not to speak English, being best friends or lovers, maybe being brother and sister (push a crazy adoption story if there's a race difference, or a milkman story hahaha) and find a friend in one another. Doesn't this all sound like fun so far? The truth is, any challenge can be fun. Any occasion generally accepted as fun could be fun as well. Or we could see how fun it would be to uphold complete honesty. That'd be fun in a different way.
I think about how I'll get rides from a trucker station or at least some food. Say I don't have any money because I already bought my plane ticket online and am working based off of a deadline. Maybe I'd set up a sign with paper from my notebook and leave it by the garbage can saying, "Kids starve in Africa. Kids starve in America. Kids starve in that corner over there, why waste your food now?"
Or right next to me in an open guitar case, "Be or pay the person that's going to drive me a step closer to Miami." That'd be fun too, to play guitar for some small or large donations. Might be a good way to get attention as well. Might even be illegal enough to get me kicked out, that'd be awesome too.
You see? There's a thousand possibilities for what could happen in a couple of years. Who knows what memories and decisions I'll have made? Who knows what experiences will come my way? Way I sees it, the best way to live is one day at a time, like an elephant, live and learn, stay true to yourself and your code, be generally courteous, improvise, adapt, and execute, and base yourself on the past, act in the moment, and prepare for the future.
And then you can document your thoughts and plans in a journal, should you so desire.
Signing off at Midnight O'Five AM, Valentine's Day+1, departing from you live:
- Stevie LaFerriere
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