Honobia - Chapter 1

The slow drizzle of rain seems so comforting today: it reminds me of south Louisiana. All I need now is for a train to go by about a block or two from here, to smell mom's burning incense and I'd swear I was back home (I already have her favorite Pearl Jam music playing on my computer). Today is Saturday: cleaning day. Mom, I promise I tried to get my chores done first this morning before getting on the computer. Kitchen is clean, laundry sorted and washing, but vacuuming doesn't call to me like the computer does. :-) And finally writing this story down for Cody just seemed like the right thing to do. Haha.

You know how sometimes you start thinking about one thing, then realize a few minutes later you're on another topic altogether and you aren't sure how your brain made those leaps? Such is my reminiscing today. The rain had me thinking about being about 10 years old in Addis and now I'm remembering parts of a crazy road trip with one of my best friends, Cody. Maybe the weather is the connecting factor in my memory leaps from 1987 to 2006.

True story. While most of our Spring Break road trip was sunny and mild, a few days spent in the southeastern part of Oklahoma, deep in the heart of Kiamichi country, the weather was markedly chilly, rainy, foggy: somber. Perhaps someday I'll write about the trip up to the point of Friday, but today Friday is where we start. Friday found me and Cody at Robber's Cave State Park in Wilburton, Oklahoma. The day was overcast with foreboding clouds gathering, which was distressing to me because two more friends, Clay and Jared, were going to drive to Wilburton to meet us to camp out and then head to Shreveport Saturday morning. I just knew Jared would NOT like camping in the rain. Spoiler alert: he didn't! :-)

So, Friday Cody and I climbed all over the rocks and caves in the state park. There's also a huge face of rock called Devil's Slide that I braved. As it grew dark and the about the time Clay and Jared arrived it began to rain. Great. Just in time to get the six-man tent up and then do nothing. I could almost see the irritation level rise in Jared's neck and face like a thermometer. During the night we were each cocooned inside our individual sleeping bags, awake, with sleep being an elusive nymph, trying to stay warm, and I was crammed against the wall of the tent, trying to not touch the tent and break the surface tension (to no avail--I was wet).

In the morning, after we all got showers, we took Clay and Jared to climb the rocks. We then loaded up our stuff and drove southeast to Talahina. We wanted to get some lunch and then head to Honobia (pronounced ho - nub - EE). Cody found out that Honobia'd had a Bigfoot festival the previous fall, and we just knew we had to go visit this town. Now, I'm not saying I believe Bigfoot exists, but come on! Bigfoot festival? We HAD to go check out this place!

Honobia is nestled in the fringes of the Kiamichi mountains about 25 miles from the Oklahoma-Arkansas border, as the crow flies. Clay and Jared followed me and Cody up the winding road to Honobia. The drive up in the cold, grey drizzle felt like we were in a scary movie on the Sci Fi channel. I really felt that at any moment Bigfoot could jump out of the trees lining the mountain road. And I actually wondered if he had as we passed a Bigfoot Crossing road sign. Seriously?

Finally a break in the trees revealed a small ghost-town. Well, we thought it was a ghost town, but in reality it was just a small town. A Saturday. No one around. Not even at the small general store. Yes, general store. Behind the general store were a few houses and mobile homes. We were afraid someone might come shoot us thinking we were trying to break into the store, so we were trying to quickly determine our next move: do we write this up as one-point Honobia, zero-road trip fun? Do we explore the dirt roads that were quickly becoming mud? All we saw were mud roads. We thought we'd passed a paved road just past the bend in the road. We decided to try that one, then get the heck outta Dodge, er, Honobia. I was getting creeped out.

We got in our vehicles and went back to the paved road that wound around for about a mile. Trees and a creek were to the left of us and a house or two to the right. We then came to a clearing: a large field with what looked like an old white-washed, wooden schoolhouse plopped in the center. There were cars here. Life! As we got closer, we saw the sign that read "Honobia Community Center" and of course, another Bigfoot Crossing street sign. Ah. At last.

We pulled up near the other cars and trucks. Cody and I got out to assess the situation. Jared and Clay refused to get out of their truck. haha. The schoolhouse was a lot longer that it appeared from the road. From the side where we were, we could tell the original building had been expanded. I wondered if it was from expansion of the town itself or from the needs of the festival.

Cody and I walked up to one of the handful of open doors, as we heard the sounds of saws and smelled freshly cut wood. It appeared they were laying new floor in the community center. Here we were in a small town, two strangers walking into the community center full of what appeared to be every one of the town's residents and no one looked up. They all kept at their work. It felt like we were in the Twilight Zone. Cody finally broke our cloak of invisibility when he asked a woman what was going on. She slowly turned her attention to us, un-phased by our presence and replied, "We're doing some improvements to get ready for the festival." Sweet. Confirmation that we were, indeed, where we hoped we'd be. But after her response, she returned to ignoring us, going about her business. Only then did a little boy about 8 or 9 years old walk up to us and tell us to come with him. "Let me show you something."

Cody and I just looked at each other, almost speaking to each other telepathically. Would we get shot by some parents wondering why we were talking to their son? Why is this kid walking to the edge of the clearing toward the trees, beckoning us? We glanced at Jared and Clay. I headed to Jared's truck as Cody walked toward the boy.

The Poor Electron

I've been pondering how the electron feels: spinning around through life, not ever really feeling like you belong to the in-crowd, you know those protons and neutrons that stick together in the nucleus.

I mean, sometimes, if you're the only electron, another electron from another atom will try to hook up with you, but you know you're just being used for your ionic personality, and will be dropped as soon as you're no longer needed.

I wonder if it's the electron's fault that it is how it is, did it have any control over its destiny to BE an electron? Can it change its circumstances?

I kinda feel badly for the electron. Maybe it wouldn't have such a negative personality if it was loved a little more.

The Great Spider Fiasco of '09

For those of you familiar with the "Fiddleback Spider in the House of Huge Debacle of '06", there's no need to get nervous...this story is not bad like that one was. :-P

Last Wednesday afternoon I was driving home from work, heading west on the freeway out of Fort Worth, the sunlight peerting (yes, it's a word...just ask Russell Neill) my eyes in the rear view mirrors. Traffic tends to be heavy on the way home, and Wednesday was no different. Even amid all the blinding sunlight, it was still mighty chilly in my car so I turned on the heater. Well, I thought the heater. :-) Still getting used to the new vehicle's instruments, my "muscle memory" actually had me turn on the defroster. Whatev. It was warm. :-)

This is where a normal drive home took a turn for the worse. Not long after turning on the heat, a being the size of a nickel-- black, fuzzy with white dots--rushed toward me. I am sure he gave me the evil eye. I noticed his lingering gaze as he stopped at the edge of the dashboard. I know inside he was contemplating jumping at me. He wondered if he could jump the distance between us. His heart was racing as he thought, "Can I make it?" My heart raced as I thought, "Can he make it?"

Things seemed to move in slow motion yet in fast forward all at once. I frantically searched the front seat for something to place upon the spider to impede his forward motion (read: squish him). I could find nothing except my coat. So I grabbed the sleeve of my black coat as I kept an eye on Fuzzy. At the moment I grabbed the coat he made his move. He ran down onto the gas gauge! ACK! So I firmly placed the coat sleeve upon the area as well. My mind was now aflutter. Did I get him? Where is he? If I move the coat will he jump on me?

I decided I could not make it home in this condition. I peeled across three lanes of traffic to the nearest exit. Again, no small feat in rush hour traffic. I stopped at a sports car mechanic shop at the exit and pulled into the parking lot sideways. I had to know if I got the spider!

As I did all of this my hand was still pressed in the coat sleeve against the gas gauge. I had to switch hands to put the car in park and undo my seat belt. I then switched hands again and jumped out of the car. When I moved the coat sleeve there was no spider. No guts. ACK!!!! Where did he go? My heart pounded harder. Where was he? Was he watching me now?

I ran to the passenger side and using only a finger and thumb flung my coat, sweater and purse onto the pavement. I began systematically stomping my coat and sweater. And by systematically, I mean frantically and in no recognizable sense of order. I then dumped out everything from my purse, fearing the spider ran inside to only scare me later, or worse, take up residence in my apartment like a stowaway!

About this time I thought maybe the spider was on me, so I began frantically flinging my hands about my hair to dislodge any unwanted pests. Simultaneously a mechanic comes out to my hair flinging and stomping of the coat and asked, "Everything ok? You spill something?"

I answered, "No. There's a spider in my car." I mean, this IS what was going on, but he just looked at me like I was an idiot. He responded, "uh. Ok." and walked away!

After about 10 minutes of hair flinging and coat stomping I decided to just put my stuff in the back of car (it would take a while for the spider to make it back up to the front seat from there if he was still in my coat or purse). I drove in fear the whole way home, wondering when and where the fuzzy spider would rear his ugly, spotted head.

It occurred to me on the way home that he probably ran down the steering column. Do you remember when you first started driving and the driver's ed teacher told you to check the road, check your speed, check the rear view mirror then repeat? And it felt as unnatural as it it sounds? I felt that way as I added in the obligatory glace toward the steering column. I decided on the way home that I would get the spider spray from the kitchen and douse the steering column. I wondered if it would ruin anything.

When I pulled up to the driveway, I ran upstairs and changed clothes so I could stomp my work outfit, just in case the spider was in there somewhere.

Outside the next-door neighbors (guys) were moving. No matter, I immediately began dousing all the floorboards in the car as well as the back cargo hatch area. They were eyeballing me so I said, "There's a spider in my car." I got the same sort of look as I did earlier from the mechanic.

I also popped the hood and sprayed the air vents. I then again wondered about spraying the steering column. As I opened the driver's side door that spider brazenly marched out from the depths of the steering column (I kid you not!) I think all the fumes had him running for fresh air. That's when I made my move. Unable to get an angle to squish him, I sprayed him for a solid 10-15 seconds. He was covered in white foam. He then ran back into the steering column! Oh no!!!

Remember this was Wednesday. Church night! So I texted a couple of friends (they're roommates) from church to say "need a ride to church. there's a spider in my car". They thought I was kidding, but I wasn't. Besides not knowing if he was dead or not, there was so much bug spray in that car it could kill an elephant! They were kind enough to give me a ride and not make too much fun of me.

The next morning I rode with the windows down on the way to work in 40 degree weather so I wouldn't gag on the fumes.

I never did see ol' fuzzy again. I hope I never do.