Funny kind of day. I've been so into getting up, hit the shower, load the 'scoot, get on the road -- I felt a little lost this morning. I was more or less where I was going for the next several days. No plans for what road to take, where might the gas be, what's the weather going to be like.
Got up late, this Friday the Thirteenth. Thought a bit about Jacques DeMolay and the Knights Templar -- the reason for the whole thing we have about it. As a Templar myself, it has some real meaning for me.
Went outside to get the feel of the day and ran into the French couple from the room next to mine. Nice folks, they were in the US for the first time. She had no English and he very little, but with my fractured French and his bit of English we managed to have a good visit. They were on their way to New Orleans but were going to stop in Breaux Bridge first. He pointed to a pamphlet he had for a tour. Though written in English, it had, in French of course, that they spoke French. He asked if I thought anyone there might really speak French then wondered why I started laughing. Mon Amie, I said, in that town it's sometimes harder to find someone who doesn't speak French. Don't know if he believed me, but I directed him to a favorite restaurant of mine and told him to check out the food and the language...
Headed out to the Harley dealership. Noticed that my handlebars are crooked. Not a big deal, but as with some Softails -- especially with a FXSTC like mine with the little 21" front tire and bigger apes -- I've had some high speed wobble at times. Riding a Harley (HD = hunnerd dollars), I was looking at it and seeing dollar signs flashing before my eyes. Shop foreman came out, took one look, and told me how to fix it myself in about 10 minutes. And, more amazing still, I actually have the right tools with me to do it. Now that's a wonder...
Ran into one of the newest Brothers from the Club there, as well. Out of Beaumont, TX. On a run with his Lady. Good visit, got to talk about the Club and the Craft.
Rolled on down to Breaux Bridge and hit that little restaurant I recommended to my French friend. See, they have the best Crawfish Pie I've ever tasted (yes, my California friends -- there really is such a dish, it ain't just a line in a song) and I've been longing for it. Got a big Crawfish Platter and about two bites into it the manager looked over at me smiled and said: "Cher, you look like somebody just come home!" I just smiled and kept eatin'.
Did ask if my French friends ever showed up. Seems as though they did, tested both the food and the French and were last seen headin' off to New Orleans with a smile on their faces and still tryin' to get their eyebrows detached from their hairlines. Ahh...Bienveneiu a L'Acadianna, mes amies. LOL.
I've just re-read this thing -- something I've not been doing with this blog. The other posts just flowed out, this one has been work. Probably because I knew this afternoon would be something private and very personal that I might not want to share.
So let's just leave it at this: had a very special time with my daughter, just the two of us, for an hour or two. Then she went to pick up Sofia and Nick got in after the long drive from the Air Base. We all got back together for some amazing Cajun Pizza and then I spent the next few hours being instructed, by a 22 month old, on the proper form and method for saying: "Oooooh, Nooooo -- it's locked!" as we attempted to crack safes and open various and sundry doors. I was then fortunate enough to able to instruct the very same 22 month old in the method for stalking cats in the style of a sumo wrestler. I got to remember, one more time, why I like and respect my son-in-law so much.
I'm a pretty happy guy.
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