3/30/07 In Memoriam: Suzie

Most Friday mornings, the Feeble-Minded Men's Prayer Group gathers for breakfast at the Midway Cafe. We roll in around 6:45 or so, have breakfast, and share what's going on. For many years, Suzie was always there to greet us. As is often the case in such places, she knew our names and our coffee and breakfast preferences; and she knew more. She'd share briefly with us, and we with her; showing pics and stories of a new grandkid, how the divorce is going, a graduate, an illness -- you know how it goes. Work conflicts eventually resulted in Suzie moving on -- then returning for a few months -- then gone again.

This morning there was a new pickle jar on the counter. You've seen 'em. This one was for Suzie, our waitress told us. She'd developed cancer -- without medical insurance of course -- and it was for the bills. But there was a fresh new label on the jar -- Suzie died last night. It had been only a month from diagnosis to the end. We never even knew she was sick. Jason had seen her at the Wal-Mart a couple of months ago, given her a hug. She was fine then -- it seemed.

Suzie was a lady; a paragon of blue collar nobility, always there to greet us with a cheerful "Hi," and "The Usual?" God loves to dress up in people. People like Suzie. Stay awake.

And so for Suzie, and for her family, let us pray to the Lord....

And for all those battling cancer, or whatever, without health insurance, let us pray to the Lord....

And for all those who don't care whether Suzie, and all the others, don't have health insurance, God have mercy on their souls....

Thanks, Suzie.

Peace. Warren

28 March, 2007: A Bigger World

A few weeks ago, in my "homesickness," I mused, "A man could live out his whole life here in Bartlesville, and never hear one single note of Cajun music. What kind of life is that?" No, that's not self pity!! That's real grief!!

But now, thanks to the wonders of worldwide technology, I'm sitting in my office reading a book on pastoral care (well, I was), listening to my beloved Cajun music, about 99% french(Cajun) in the background. And I don't even have to endure my daily dose of 6+ mosquito bites!! C'est si bon!

Praise for the musicians! Praise for the music! Praise for the (maddening)machine on my desk that brings it to me. And praise for the geeks who put this all together (thanks, Al).

It's a smaller world -- and this afternoon, I'm not minding that. Y'all run out and enjoy some music today!

I just wish I knew French (Cajun) better!

Peace, Warren

March 20, 2007: homesick

Last Friday I attended a Dixieland Jazz concert in Tulsa with a good friend. The music was excellent, the group with whom I watched were very cordial and I had a great time. But several times, attendees naively asked if the Dixieland music was what I had experienced in New Orleans. I replied, "No, I was not in New Orleans. I was down the Bayou or in Houma. I heard Cajun and Zydeco music" -- something barely comprehended by people here. Dixieland is for tourists who visit the French Quarter. It's still there in a couple of clubs -- next to the punk rock bars on Bourbon Street -- a place few residents of New Orleans and fewer residents of the Bayous ever go.

I got "homesick." Comfortable and among friends in Oklahoma, I nevertheless missed terribly the old Jolly Inn, the Cajun fais do-do there, playing the rub board and being among friends. I know I can never claim to being a real Cajun. Real Cajuns live down Pointe aux Chenes or lower Lafourche parish and listen to that plastic country western stuff, which I can get here any time I want. But I'm a Cajun at heart, if not by blood, and I miss that "chanky-chank" music which is so dear. I miss my friend Rayjohn and Tipitina's and the most awesome dancing I've ever personally seen (you'll never convince me sweaty women aren't sexy!). There's a case of bayou fever that's got me now, and though it may be in remission from time to time, I don't think I'll ever get over it. And I don't want to.
Peace. Warren