TR Lost & Found in Louisiana

It may (or may not) surprise you to learn that on their cross-country honeymoon trip, Boomer Petaway and Ellen Cherry Charles made a pass through Louisiana. They had heard about this bodacious barbeque barn near Natchitoches from an ex-NBA truckdriver while parked at a rest stop, and decided it was worth checking out.

Rumor has it that they drove all day, and arrived in Clarence just about dusk. Boomer grabbed his nearest welder's cap and pulled it on, while Ellen Cherry debated on whether or not to wear any underwear. Boomer's assistance in that decision making process almost caused the couple to forego any barbeque, but a swift breeze brought a whiff of barbeque into their ride, and they were out the door/leg.

They ordered pints of sliced beef and sliced pork for starters. This was served up with Mr. Grayson's fresh homemade buns and secret sauce (that even known barbeque haters like me love to eat) by a big black women with a wide smile, who had a gold star welded onto one front tooth, with matching gold stars painted on every other fingernail.

Boomer and Ellen Cherry wolfed down their first sandwich, and took just a little more time on their second. By the time they started on their third sandwich, Ellen and Boomer were feeling ..., well, their stomachs juices were flowing, and so were some others. The barbeque sandwiches were so tangy, spicy, chewy, juicy-- just so damn good, there was only one thing that they thought was better than that barbeque.

May I just tell you that the effect of taking a bite of barbeque, chewing that soft bread and hot meat, was increasing the heat and pressure of Boomer's Crotch Pot. Every bite increased the heat and pressure exponentially, and every BTU of heat that radiated from Boomer's parts made the barbeque even that much better (see Like Water for Chocolate, the recipe for rosepetal something or other, for more detail on this food-sex synergistic effect syndrome).

There was a sacred, spiritual process occurring between Boomer and that barbeque, and he wanted to worship in private. Like the pirates and outlaws who once made this No Man's Land their home, Boomer grabbed his maiden (who was feeling similar effects), threw down a twenty to cover their expenses, made haste to the Airstream, and commenced to make love to Ellen Cherry with a passion somewhat akin to what they experienced in the cave-- although this time they were actual worshipers, priest and priestess to the god and/or goddess of good barbeque. Amen.

In his hurried exit, Boomer left his welder's cap on the table. And that is why I'm sending it to you. Needless to say (although I guess I'm about to) the Airstream cum giant turkey caused quite a bit of talk in our small, southern town. The next day in the coffee shop, I happened to run into Mr. Grayson who had in his possession Boomer's cap, and I volunteered to return it to its rightful owner. However, I'm not sure just exactly who that is. You see, Boomer and Ellen Cherry are supposedly fictional characters (although that they did drop in at Grayson's is well documented) and I don't think that sending this package via the United States Postal Service to Boomer Petaway, III, New York City, New York, would work out well.

So, Mr. Robbins, you are the next of kin, so to speak, and I am sending the cap to you, just in case you run into Boomer and would like for him to have it. I would have brought it personally, but the deacons of the Newly Reorganized First Mt. Carmel Baptist Church threatened to cut off my scholarship at the local university. They caught me reading the last few chapters of your book, Another Roadside Attraction, and think that you are one of the devil's very powerful minions, and should not be allowed to prey on young, innocent minds. They tried to get David Duke to come up and lead a book burning, but (un)fortunately, he had a previously scheduled cross burning to attend.

The father of one of Mr. C.S. Lewis's students reportedly said that, "we read to know that we are not alone." Tom Robbins, thank you. Thank you for Cissy, and the Petaways, and for Marx Marvelous, and for all of the other travelers that I am about to meet. I finally have some company!

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