-Thomas A. Edison
ONE MONTH after hurricane Katrina on August 29, 2005, I hitch hiked from Montana to Mississippi because I knew there was plenty of work down there. It took nearly two weeks because I won't hitch hike at night, it is just too dangerous....Half an hour before dark I will find a spot usually next to a Wallmart Super Store or Truck Stop but it really doesn’t matter. I quit worrying about where I will sleep tonight; with a little brains and good intention, that will take care of itself.
"How much does it pay?"
"What's your rate, you get paid by the hour?"
"You got somewhere I can get cleaned up there? Where is it?" "I'm a few blocks from the beach in here in Gulf Port."
"Well look, I can help you do it but I can't do it myself."
"No, I got the material I'm all ready to go. I'm just old and I can't do all that."
"Ok," I said, so I'm the muscle and you’re the brains?" "Right, right,"
he said. I told him what I told nearly everyone I worked for:
"Ok, well you’re the Boss and I'm nothing."
"Yeah, that's right," they would usually reply.
"Well,” that makes you the Boss of Nothing!"
That would usually break the ice...
"I get paid 12$ an hour, cash at the end of the day."
"I can do that, come on and get in, throw your pack in the back."
I wound up living in his beautiful nearly new motor home next to his house a few blocks off the beach under ancient oak trees for several months until wanderlust came and got me again. For twenty years everywhere I went I wanted to be somewhere else. Wanderlust is a disease of the Soul.
NEARLY EVERY house in his neighborhood was damaged but not his, just minor wind damage and I rebuilt his parameter fence. He hooked me up and treated me right like old friends, even after I messed up the expensive 18" Travertine Ceramic Tile floor royally! I can still see me, his old wife holding a little wheezing Chiwawa dog in one hand and a cigarette in the other, and the old man apologizing for me, standing in the center of his living room easing the tiles around with our feet to obscure the nearly one inch gap between tile right dead center of the room! But I knew there was fix'in this short of a big throw rug or a wrecking bar and a shovel. I wanted to laugh so badly but I saved that for now as I write this. Actually I told this story to lots of folks along the way. I told the Coonass I'm not any tile setter; they are like Electricians or Dry Waller's and they all specialize in what they do. I told you I could help "you" do it, I can't do it.. He was trying to save money, how hard can it be kind of thing... He was actually very understanding about it and went to Radio Shack and got cable, crawled on his roof and run TV Cable from his house to the motor home that evening for me... I got dozens of stories like this...