Sweet Christopher and I hit the road about 9:30 on Thursday morning. We were both a little tired from going to Manor Daze - can’t miss a Manor Daze* - and then staying up late to do some second-to-last minute packing. Tired or not, we both had that “WHEE! ROAD TRIP!” frame of mind, and despite the bickering over packing and little dumb stuff (which didn’t last too long, once we’d got out of NC) we settled into that joy that only the prospect of long-distance adventure on a pretty day can bring.
Our first challenge came when we realized that we had an insufficient sound system. Esme only has a radio, so Chris got a pair of teeny speakers and an adapter to go with my old Discman. We couldn’t really hear it over the wind and road and Esme’s badly busted muffler, so we made the decision to find a place to buy a portable cd player and batteries. We talked and laughed and occupied ourselves until we came to a HUGE truck stop plaza extravaganza mall and we found a nice little boombox (it was covered in happy green rubber - ???) for a Walmart price and a bunch of bat’ries. Moo. Our first mutual appliance purchase.** The batteries cost ¼ as much as the damned ‘box, but they lasted all the way to Mississippi and back. Yay, us.
The rest of the trip went fine. Chris navigated us through the convolutions of Atlanta and kept us on the right track through Birmingham, Tuscaloosa, all the way to Jackson. We got to a Mickey D’s at an intersection just a few blocks from the Bachelorette party, and stopped to ‘freshen up, change clothes, and call to let them know we were almost there.
While I was in the potty, I heard a bunch of squeals (there were a lot of young downtown Jackson folk hanging in the McD’s, friends of the employees, mostly, it seemed), and I knew I was back home when a rubenesque and glamorously coiffed young McD’s employee burst into the bathroom, both laughing and mad, to reattach the wiglet that one of her friends had snatched off as a joke…
Ah, Mississippi.
We arrived at a beautiful house on an oak-shaded street, just across from an antebellum inn. The house was white, with a wide front porch and you could see from the street that each room was painted in brilliant colors. We opened the door and saw Nina, sitting in her chair like a queen, surrounded by a room full of princesses. We were greeted by fragrant hugs and soft kisses, made welcome, given drinks and drawn into the fun. Nina was introducing the guests, and saying lovely things about each one. I have learned a lot from her.
After the introductions, I sat my turn at the card-table where a lady was set up to do Mehndi for us. I chose a design of flowers and vines for the back of my left hand. I got out my glitter and each lady allowed me to sparkle them up, as our hostess handed out feather boas (I got pink, X got black) and then we began our instruction in exotic dancing. Chris decided to watch from a safe distance (the dining room, where there was also a long antique table covered in exotic finger food, mm!) and the poor baby had to watch as all these women (not a plain one in the bunch), Nina’s gorgeous Indian cousins from DC, willowy blondes, curvy redheads, beautiful brunettes - all butterflies and fairy moths – did “the sexy walk”, “the bump and grind”, “open and close the gate”, “pull up your stockings”, etc. The young lady who was our instructor was a dancer in a show (as in theatre) sort of like Moulin Rouge, and so we were able to benefit from her expertise. I think we laughed harder than we danced, though.
After the party, we all convoyed to a little nightspot called “Elixir”. We met up with some of the boys there, and caught up with old times and new names. Then we all trekked over to the bachelor’s soiree (cards and beer in a Man Kitchen) and I finally got to meet Jerel. I didn’t doubt it, but was pleased to find that he is as sweet and deep as he is beautiful and seeing him look at Nina told me all that I needed to know.
Chris and I stayed a civilized length of time, and then headed for our hotel. We were pulled over – for seeming to swerve - by two of Mississippi’s finest on the way, but I was in a good mood, and I felt confident that I’d done nothing wrong (except for the 17 drinks I’d had earlier – not really, but, you know how it feels when you’ve got the cop standing at your window. I told him I’d been driving all day (true), I had had a drink earlier (true), and that I wasn’t completely sure where I was going (VERY true). I was friendly, and compliant, and he turned out to be, too. He gave us directions, told us be careful and let us go. We got to our hotel room, unpacked, and – after some time - finally slept the sleep of the just, the adventurous, the satiated, and the veryveryvery TIRED.

Friday, we slept in late, late, late. We had a couple of hours to play around, so Herman came and took us to Salvation Army and gave us an EXCELLENT tour of Jackson. The highlight for me was the little café – ‘Peaches’- that we visited in the downtown section, where they are renovating the street that used to house a lot of the black clubs, cafes and shops. Farish St. There was a photo shoot happening outside, several tall, slender, heart-breakingly beautiful, dark young women in revealing and glamorous clothes posed for a photographer outside, while inside a small camera crew interviewed the nonagenarian proprietress Ms. Peaches in her best Sunday dress. The juxtaposition of these two generations framed by the media-hunger for them, then super-imposed over the renovation of the old street itself was a good metaphor for my home-state capitol, and my feelings about who I am and where I came from. The covered windows of the old buildings were painted with bright murals, all relevant to the communities’ feelings about the rise in the economy and the renewal of their local culture. I thought of how I’ve felt when bad times have hit me, maybe for a long time, but then one day I just finally felt like getting up, getting dressed, getting a cute haircut and going on with my life. It’s as if I’ve remembered that I am a woman, and that despite the blows to my surface, and the bruises to my soul, I still have them both, a surface and a soul, and they are stronger and more beautiful still. Maybe Farish St. has scars, but it is still beautiful, and it has survived a lot. It has more character, and therefore, more hope.

After our tour, Herman delivered us back to the hotel. We had to dress quickly for the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner. Shower, iron, dress, skwooch, and we were out. We found the place easily, down a long dirt road in a community that reminded me a lot of my mother’s hometown. The lodge was set in the shade of pines across a bridge over a small bayou spiked with cypresses. Across the bridge, and nearer the entrance was a small chapel, and off to the right, beside the water, was the spot where the wedding would be held. There were folding chairs fanned out to fill the grove, and a few wedding pilgrims wandering, gossiping and waiting near the sweet bamboo pergola that had been built just for the ceremony. Nina arrived, dressed in a stunning ivory beaded wedding gown. She would wear a Sari for the wedding, and so to please her mother wore this gown for the rehearsal and dinner that night. We ran through the basics of the ceremony. Those of us who would be speaking did a perfunctory stand up-sit down, some people had to stand in for others who were there. My favorite moment from that time was getting to hear Lhay practice her lovely and powerful rendition of “At Last”, the song that would accompany Nina down the aisle.
After the rehearsal, we – more or less - followed Jerel and his get-away driver through Jackson to the Red Barn. There was lots of good food and wine, and before the band kicked up, there was a VERY sweet slide show of pictures of Nink and Jerel growing up and coming together ( - again, they were friends in high school…). We sat at a table with Monty and Amy (MOOO!!!), Caroline and Roberto (MmMmOOOoOoo!), Alem and Carla (MoOoOo!) Lhay and Tate (MuMu!) Cedric and Gina (MeOW!), and I think that Philip, Diego and Carolina drifted in and out a bit, and Jerel came and joined us for a while, too. When the music started to get loud, we all drifted down to stand with the smokers. Princess Caroline decreed that we should go Out, and so we rallied the troops and headed downtown to drinks and complete bombastic b.s. at Martin’s. I got to know Cedric (with whom, of course, I was completely smitten, along with his lovely Gina-friend. Gina is one of the most smittable girls I’ve ever seen. That pretty and still that real. Her smile has to be seen to be believed…) a little better. I think Cedric got to know me better than he wanted (he found out one of my only Secret Flaws – can you ever forgive me, Ced?), and Chris got to know everyone better (Monty, he said he liked you best, though I think Carolina made a big mark, too…) We laughed a lot and debated a little, and we drank somewhere in between that. We listened to Roberto’s tales of bigtime Hollywood production (I knew all ALONG that Billy Bob was a nice guy, thanks for backing me up, Roberto…) and to Caroline’s concerns about her interview with Rob Zombie on Monday. Someone – maybe Ced? Diego? – I can’t recall, asked which ONE album we’d want to be buried with. Mine was “Unforgettable Fire”, X’s was “Raw Power”. Ced’s was “Purple Rain”, so I don’t want to hear any more about MY taste in music, thankyouverymuch! :)
Finally we all wound down and headed back to our dens, preparing to face The Big Day.

Chris and I decided that we would do NOTHING the next day before the wedding. We’d considered the museum, but we had an early photo call, and so we lazed around all morning. Our two big treats were getting to see Herman’s handsome and clever son Loden for a little while, and getting to watch “Mississippi Burning” for the first time. The irony of that is that many of the people we were socializing with that weekend had worked on the film. They all hate it – and I understand why, from a socio-political perspective, but visually and technically it was a beautiful film, and I told them so.
We got dressed and arrived in plenty of time.
X and I got the job of lighting candles and I was asked to do the Nag Champa honors. I combined the lighting with a small prayer-ritual, taking the opportunity to ask for blessings for Jerel and Nina as I lit each stick. Before we knew it, the chairs were filled and the grove was humming with excitement. All of Nina’s beautiful cousins were in their Sari’s, and everyone else was in their spring best. I wore my blue silk mandarin “pajamas” that I got in China Town last July, and X had on his favorite suit, charcoal, burgundy and silver.
Jerel came down the aisle with both of his parents and stood, and then Lhay began to sing to the melodic beat of Tate’s bass. All heads turned as Nina strolled down the aisle with her parents. Her Sari was pale gold, saffron, champagne. Her black hair outshone the jewels set there, and her face outshone her hair. She looked just like a princess.
The first part of the ceremony was a complete Hindu ceremony. I’d never seen anything like it, and I was amazed. The symbolism and the chanted prayers created a feeling in that grove that was inexplicable. The next part of the ceremony was for the couple’s chosen speakers to stand up and talk about them, and about love and friendship, and no one had any troubles doing that. There were a few tears, but lots more smiles and laughs, and no doubt that this couple is blessed.
Before we knew it, Nina and Jerel were officially wed, and everyone was heading up to the lodge for a long, fine, festive night of eating, drinking, dancing, singing and remembering. We had such fun, being together, remembering our shared roots, telling tales and toasting the happy pair. Watching the older men in Nina’s father’s family dance to Indian disco was fantastic, seeing the sari’d women swirl and dip around them, singing karaoke with Chris was too much fun, dancing as if we were still 18 to all our favorite 80’s tunes, and enjoying the other people who were brave enough to karaoke. I hope I never forget this lovely, perfect day.
Nina and Jerel, thank you for the gift of yourselves, and for sharing your bright, broad world. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

We finished the night, oh where? Again at Hal and Mal’s then Martins.
Caroline, whom I would obviously follow anywhere– with a glazed look and happy smile - suggested that the night was still young (*sheesh* what about ME! ;) and so we all reconvened (somehow) in downtown Jackson after the fete. Basically the same crew as before were there, with the exception of Ced and Gina, and the addition of Fel and two of Nina’s other cousins, as well as some of the outlying film folks. We talked about food and film (big surprise) and family. Though we were all tired, no one seemed to want to go. We closed down both places, though, said our goodbyes and went to our rooms.
The next morning we had one more small visit with Caroline and Roberto (one more cool Caroline kiss on my cheek, yay me!) while we breakfasted continental-style, we got to say goodbye to Tate and Lhaye, and then we headed out for the country and for “home” – to see my family.
We rode through some beautiful countryside, lush trees, winding roads and small swamplands. We got to Charlyn’s around lunchtime – just in time to head over to Aunt Sissy, Jeff & Casey’s for a little Easter cookout. Charlyn’s younguns were glad to see us. Ryan is almost ten now (!) and our Mimi – Amelia – just turned six. They were happy to introduce us, in turn to their cousins Trinity, who is now two, and little teeny precious Zachary, who is just several weeks old. I didn’t even know that Zach was on the way, so I count that as one of my two best surprises of the trip. We had a nice lunch. (Mmm, fried crabclaws…) and a good visit. Casey looked good. Mom-hood seems to suit her. Jeff was looking good, too. A proud dad always looks good, in my opinion. Aunt Sissy was of course in full-bloom Mamaw state, she now lives within a very short distance of her four youngest grandbabies. Trinity is a special kid. She is mostly quiet, it seems – or at least a little shy around new people. She has soft brown hair and soft brown eyes (our Grandma Bertie’s legacy, dad, Jeff and Shawn all have those eyes. Brown eyes will always be my favorite…), a little pug nose, a fair rosy complexion, and a potty-mouth like a toddling sailor, apparently. Gotta’ love that! :D She is a bundle of energy, bouncing around on her tiptoes, flapping her little hands like a flustered penguin, bouncing on and off the furniture, and running away at every possible opportunity. The only thing I really heard her say the whole time was “Oh shoot, honey.”, which she said often, though Charlyn assured me that it probably wasn’t “shoot” that she was saying. Her dad and Aunt Sissy say that she reminds them of me. Hm. :D
Zachary is still so teeny, he looks like a little shell-less turtle. But he has big blue-grey eyes and a sweet little face, and a pretty good shot at a weird and wonderful life stretched out ahead of him.
After dinner X & I got out in the yard and showed Ryan and Mimi some stage combat basics, and then we headed back to Charlyns for some show-and-tell time (Charlyn is an artist and master Quilter, Ryan has an impressive collection of biological and geological wonders, and Mimi has lots of clothes and purses as well as Barbie that becomes pregnant (!!) and a hula-hooping style that is … unmatched in entertainment value. :)
We played the Universe’s longest game of ‘Life’ while Charlyn cooked up a batch of venison chili (MMMmm!!) and stayed up to watch the kids be silly until we all wound down. Before we went to bed, Mimi reminded us of the countdown of days until her daddy comes home for leave from !@#$ Kuwait***, they both skwooched up with X & I on the air mattress for a few minutes before we all went to sleep.

The next morning Charlyn treated us to huckleberry pancakes (from her grandma’s huckleberry bushes) and homemade venison sausage (my FAVORITE) before we went over to Casey’s to visit a little more and pick up some of my furniture. Charlyn helped us load up the truck, and then we said ‘goodbye for now’ and headed on to Hattiesburg.

We drove the back roads, checking our tarp often, as the rain was heading our way. We made it to Hattiesburg without any trouble, though, and still in good moods. Christopher is an ideal traveling companion, may I say. He is helpful and patientand a good dj and a really good kisser. (Not that the kissing part is NECESSARY, but it sure makes the trip nice. : ) When we got to the ‘Burg, I stopped on a whim and called an old friend, Mitch. Mitch is my ex-husband’s long-time best friend. They were in school together, started working in comics together, and Mitch was Steve’s best man in our wedding (Charlyn was my maid of honor). I wasn’t sure that he’d want to see me, but I wanted to see him, so it was worth a shot. When I called, the answering machine picked up, but as soon as I said who I was, someone answered. Richie Blackmon, one of the “kids” (he’s THIRTY now!!!) who looked up to Steve and Mitch and the other Ms. art-corp folks when they were still at JCJC (Richie was also friends with Robbie) picked up the phone and said “SAM! It’s Richie! Richie Blackmon!” Well, SOMEone was glad to hear from me at least – that was a good sign. Richie put Mitch on the phone, and Mitch said “Yeah, come on over.”
Mitch was my first crush among that studio full o’ artists. He was cute and sweet too, like Steve (though WAAAAAAAAYYY too shy for me) but it was his completely unique art-style that really impressed me as an artist. It was his kind treatment of me (despite a LOT of things) and his loyalty to Steve that impressed me as a human being though, and I was grateful to be welcomed into his space again.
We had a nice visit. We talked movies and art, of course. I told him and Richie that when I REALLY missed Steve was when some new nerd-movie came out – LotR, Hellboy, Spiderman, etc. - and I wanted to hear his opinion. They caught me up on the local gossip, mostly mild, thank god, and Mitch served us some of his DAMNED good iced tea. I left with a good feeling, like I’d been forgiven for a bit of my past transgression, and that maybe my old life wasn’t as tarnished as I’d thought.
After we left Mitch and Richie, I gave X the 30 minute tour of the ‘Burg. I took him around campus, down Hardy, past the zoo, ‘round downtown (and subsequently past about 10 different old houses of mine). He got to see The Cat Lady, we got free sno-cones at my favorite stand down by the old Bingo hall, I showed him some of my favorite old houses and haunts (mine and Steve’s old house has been bought and is being remodeled and looks great – they kept my bedroom and dining room blue, too!). When we stopped for a potty break, I called Rob’s house, and even though he wasn’t home, Brian**** was. He was about to head off for work, but he said Rob would be home soon, and we could surprise him. We found the neighborhood, but I drove by (like I’ve done a jillion times before) thinking I had the right place. When I knocked on the door and a guy who was OBVIOUSLY not Rob answered, I asked and the guy said “oh, I think he’s next door…” he let me leave the truck parked for a minute, and I walked over into Rob’s yard. He was standing at the door with his cute girl friend and I just walked right up and said “Excuse me, could I use your bathroom?” I thought he was gonna’ fall off the steps! He was DEFINITELY surprised to see me! We came in (he still had my art displayed on his wall! :), visited and gossiped for a while, and then they sat with us at the Waffle House (X’s favorite restaurant - ???) and helped us delay the trip for just a little while longer.
(Rob, it was SO good to see you, and 'review old times' and meet your lady. Thank you. You have always been a true friend. Even through the fake mice debacle.*****)
Finally, we took off. Pouring rain, 10 hours to go, and no sleep since 8:30 a.m., and still my mood was good. Chris kept me awake for as long as he could playing DJ, and when he nodded off, I would gently tug his hair and he would wake for a while. It wasn’t a bad trip back, despite the cold and rain. I had to stop for about 15 minutes somewhere in South Carolina or Georgia, I think, and rest for a few minutes. I couldn’t actually sleep, but the rest helped. We made it to Stewart’s and unloaded the truck without killing each other, though by then I was basically sleep-walking, got the Pup-pup in the truck and went home to a well-deserved and hard-earned sleep.
It was a good trip, and when the time came for X & I to go back to the real world, we found that we still didn’t want to leave each other’s company. That’s a good sign, if you ask me, especially considering that the return to cold weather brought on two bad days of serious pain before it warmed up again, and I wasn’t the best company.
Back to the “real world”, away from the dream of open water, big skies, old friends, good food, exotic faces and places, memories, forgiveness, family. Nonetheless, I also return to my good friends here, and some things and places that I love. Life is about change, forward and backward. I’m pretty (darned, in some cases) good at a lot of things, but at dealing with change, I’m an old pro. It’s just nice to know that some things never change, and that I am still welcome in places that I love, places where I thought I couldn’t return for burned bridges. I really do believe that a man can measure his value by the weight of his true friendships. If that is the case, I am a very valuable person, indeed.

Much love, and more adventure,
-Sam


*Manor Daze is the live-action sitcom that we go to in Asheville every Wednesday night.
Come see it, it’s great, funny, free, and the backdrop is fabulous… ;)
Sunshine’s my mom, bitch!
**I told X it’d just be something for us to fight over when we broke up… :D
*** “ANYBODY but Bush in 2004!” I wish that son-of-a-!@#$-politician could hear Mimi counting down those days…
**** HEY, BRIAN! SORRY WE MISSED YOU!!! MOO! THANKS FOR KEEPING THE SURPRISE!)
*****Don't ask.