“my heart remains rural, my days eclipsed in a life where the country is on the edge of the world, and the city is at my door.” (amandalou81, circa 2007)
I moved away from home at 18. I was always a tad bit too metropolitan for the small town, though I’m quick to grab a glove and head bare-faced onto the softball field, and oftentimes (always) I’m the one hosting our annual crawfish boil. It came as a surprise last year when I mentioned that I had never had boiled shrimp. (I love shrimp!) The problem was solved very quickly, and after stumbling through peeling my first two shrimp, I was quickly outpacing the city slickers surrounding me at the table. Sunday night one of the gals at work texted me to let me know that she would be holding a Crab Boil for the kickoff to MNF the following evening. Hey! I’ve never had boiled crabs! (I love crabs! But, with only two seafood eaters and one very picky eater in the family, we never ventured too far away from our staples. My palate greatly expanded after I left home.)
I moved away from home at 18. I was always a tad bit too metropolitan for the small town, though I’m quick to grab a glove and head bare-faced onto the softball field, and oftentimes (always) I’m the one hosting our annual crawfish boil. It came as a surprise last year when I mentioned that I had never had boiled shrimp. (I love shrimp!) The problem was solved very quickly, and after stumbling through peeling my first two shrimp, I was quickly outpacing the city slickers surrounding me at the table. Sunday night one of the gals at work texted me to let me know that she would be holding a Crab Boil for the kickoff to MNF the following evening. Hey! I’ve never had boiled crabs! (I love crabs! But, with only two seafood eaters and one very picky eater in the family, we never ventured too far away from our staples. My palate greatly expanded after I left home.)
So Monday night I showed up ready to officially scratch the first item off my 29 Things To Do list. Everyone at the party knew some version of my goal for this year, so all night long I heard variations of "Where are you from again?" and "Are you sure you're from Louisiana?" My host was from Golden Meadow and the resident expert on peeling crabs. After a quick lesson I was set down with my own plate of crabs and nothing but my hands before me. Like the shrimp, I fumbled through my first, but quickly (I think) got the hang of it.
Many many drinks later, the party moved to the front yard, where, football forgotten, one of the vehicles was being...slumbered? Poor soul had a bit too much to drink and in the name of responsibility, had called a friend to bring him home. Like the slumber party and the girl who fell asleep first, it was open season on the truck.
While that was going on, some of us spectators were talking about this blog and asking about some of the other items on the list. After hearing massage, one guy quickly grabbed my shoulders, did a little massage and exclaimed "You can tell everyone that your first massage was done by Travis Matte!" Um, no...sorry Travis. I think my first professional massage will still occur at a spa in New Orleans. You're welcome to fund the trip, though!
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