I burnt off half of my yard earlier this year. Because I did not want to mow it, I allowed the brush to grow up to the point where I could not mow it. While it is not the only way to tidy up a yard, burning is perhaps the best way to begin a clean start. It is a conflicting feeling to watch the fire take over the yard. The flames will not selectively burn just the overgrown, stubborn weeds that have begun to harden into pithy stalks, it also consumes the tender grass. And then there is the waiting. And in the waiting the questions. How long will this lay waste in ashes? Will it come back?
I got the news this week that Bro. Murray had passed on. He was my childhood pastor. The man that baptized me in the horse trough on an Alabama September night in 1994.
I remember him driving to my house in the middle of the night to pray for me when I was about three years old. I was running a fever, probably giving my Mom fits, and I guess I wasn’t having any of that pray over the phone nonsense, I wanted the real thing. But he came and prayed for me and I promptly went to sleep, so I am told. He was a man of faith and a prayerful man.
When I think about Bro. Murray I think of a couple of songs that he loved to sing: Learning to Lean, and Reach Out and Touch the Lord as He Goes By.
We may not have had a lot of music at that little church, just Sis. Vivian and an upright Kimball Piano, but I guess just about everyone could sing on key. Something extraordinary that I took for granted. And Bro. Murray sang well. He had a rich baritone voice. A man’s voice.
As I sit here reminiscing about being a little lad at church I can hear his voice…
Learning to Lean…Learning to Lean, I’m learning to Lean on Jesus…finding more power than I’ve ever dreamed, learning to lean on Jesus.
I’ll probably always hear his voice in that song. And that is comforting.
“I hope this the one that got them free boudins today.” The man holding the door for me said as I stepped into the gas station. You say boudin just like it’s spelled boo-dan. I didn’t know him from Adam’s house cat, and I wasn’t planning to even go inside but the pump didn’t print my receipt, but he had me asking the same question: what about them free boudins? I like gas station food. I’m not talking about Funyons and a Grapico, or anything you get off the shelves-I like that too-I’m talking about the food that they have by the counter. That rotating pizza in that little glass display case always always makes me stop and have an internal dialogue: To eat or not to eat, that is the question: Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous hunger, or to take arms against the sea of cravings and and by opposing end them…To eat, perchance to snack-ay there’s the rub…
Here is the man finding out that this was not the day for free boudins.
One of the reasons I started cycling is I got into the habit of getting a pork tenderloin biscuit at the gas station on the way to work.
I’m used to gas station pizza, biscuits, and the crockpot full of boiled peanuts, but since I have relocated to Louisiana I realize that many people here take gas station food seriously. They even have jargon for it: “Hotbox.” Maybe that’s what it is called everywhere, but I also know another definition for that term.
Admittedly, the gas station food I grew up around often tasted a little like compromise with an aftertaste of regret. That is not the case in the Central Louisiana region. I will not go so far as to say it is healthy, but how often do healthy and good really coexist, especially in the context of food? We could probably square up with one another on deciding whether the food is good-there is no accounting for taste- but I think would all have to agree that the food is consistently hot, which is more than I can say about many fast food restaurants.
My brother has lived in Louisiana so long that he prefers the gas station fried chicken over Popeye’s and KFC. I’m not sure if he has gone native enough to believe that it is better than Cane’s or Chick-Fil-A, but we don’t have a Cane’s or a Chick-Fil-A within 30 minutes of where we live. I tried that gas station chicken the other day for the first time-Krispy Krunchy Chicken-and it is hard to argue with how good it is. They are in gas stations all around this area.
Did you know that Louisiana is in the Diabetes Belt?
“I had one of the best fried pork chops I’ve ever had in my life the other day at a gas station in the ghetto in Delhi.”-Joe Bowen
I’m not really sure if we’re supposed to say ghetto in 2024, but the next time I’m in Delhi I’ll look for that gas station.
These Hotboxes have caused me to ask some serious questions about fast food: Why should I pay a premium for cold food and poor service? I don’t mind waiting on hot fries, but why would I pay to wait for cold fries? Most of the gas stations will whip you up a fresh batch of fries, boudin balls, chicken, or whatever you want if you don’t mind waiting. I think the biggest question is whether fast food is worth the money in today’s economy. That is a serious question when you are feeding a family of five.
I understand that people don’t make Central Louisiana a vacation destination. But the next time you are “passing through”, don’t be afraid to try some gas station food. It’s going to be a lot better than you think.
Look at that country fried steak!Those little meat pies are really good.
Mostly From Memory 