It should come as no surprise that visiting with dear friends from life’s key transformative years after a 20 year interruption AND visting them within the same formative environment where it all happened would trigger a wide range of emotions and recollections.
(my Baton Rouge lair in 1988 after a particularly fun party)
When I planned this trip…the Baton Rouge experience was to be the cherry on top of the 3000 miles of adventuring that lead up to being here. There’s still 2000 miles to go…so perhaps it’s a little premature to call this the apex…but this will undoubtedly be the pinnacle experience from the human perspective of the trip.
There’s such a sensory overload occurring here that it blinds any present understanding of the net spiritual effect of this event. When contemplating how quickly it seems these 20 years have passed…it’s no wonder I am a bit bewildered, contemplating mortality and feeling a not-quite-defined yet distinct sense of sadness and loss. I felt this feeling in Baton Rouge when I lived here...and perhaps it has something to do with the symbols connecting life and death being so prevalent in Baton Rouge.
Intellectually I understand there was no way to live both lives open to me when I hit that proverbial fork in the road after graduation…but I wish I could go down to the liquor store and pick up a bottle of “Jeff Suhy Baton Rouge Life - 1993” and take a swing or two.
I'll have to settle for more of the 1942 instead.
Hey…while I’m plying these waters…thought I’d spend a little time visiting a unique Louisiana locale….one of the many "Cities of the Dead"….places occupied by rows of deceased citizens in above-ground tombs.
The experience of spending a little time in one of these places will bring you to the present….especially when you are all fucked up thinking about the insanity of life. To this day most who have died in southern Louisiana are buried above ground due to the reality that storms here can literally raise the dead.
One of my most unfortunate experiences from the years I lived here took place in this particular "city." It certainly did not help that it occurred while under the influence of a hallucinogenic substance and in the company of a particularly insensitive anarchist tripping companion. I watched while he lit a torch and placed it into one of these many decomposed tombs in order to reveal the remains of a decomposed citizen to this horrified soul…a memory that still haunts me to this day.
I considered there was a good chance I’d get the heebeegeebees coming back here...and I thought that perhaps I’d just drive by and keep on rolling...but the beauty and power of this place is hard to resist. I had stopped to take a little walk to observe this haunting place from a more respectful perspective this time. It's a lot more relevant nowadays too...I'm closer to being one of these spirits than I was last time through.
The tombs are so tightly packed it’s hard to walk through. This being a city of low-income deceased-citizens and all. The rich are a little higher off the ground and their tombs are a little less ovenlike. None of those wealthy persons are resting in this place.
There really is no way to navigate around the city without climbing on top of and over tombs (bodies) to get deeper into the older part of the city. I’m sure it’s bad form…but I did it. There was no other way to get in. Any offense also pales in comparison to my last transgression here.
Nature is reclaiming these tombs and it feels organic and proper. The faces of the deceased are even emerging in the the tree gnarls. I'm telling you....there's magic/voodoo in Louisiana. It's a place unlike Los Angeles in that it wears decay proudly.
There really is no way to navigate around the city without climbing on top of and over tombs (bodies) to get deeper into the older part of the city. I’m sure it’s bad form…but I did it. There was no other way to get in. Any offense also pales in comparison to my last transgression here.
Nature is reclaiming these tombs and it feels organic and proper. The faces of the deceased are even emerging in the the tree gnarls. I'm telling you....there's magic/voodoo in Louisiana. It's a place unlike Los Angeles in that it wears decay proudly.
Death, spiritual icons, ancient oaks, bayou vistas, long lost familiar places and friends that knew me before I knew myself. This is the palate cleansing I came for...and just what I needed to appreciate the good fortune in my life and to be reminded how tenuous and fragile it is.
I woke up the next morning and had breakfast at one of my old favorite diners on the LSU campus. The characters in this town never cease to amaze me.
Upon departure from Baton Rouge I was to enter the isolation phase of the trip.
The next 4 days as I make my way back to LA will not involve any direct human interaction other than an occasional “I’d like to check in please.”
The impending 2000 miles could not be more anticipated at this point. I can think of no better way to digest the last 48 hours.
I’ve been wondering about fun lately…and I can say with some confidence that "fun" is being trumped on this trip by "satiated" and I could not be more pleased.
I am witness once again to the fact that the great American Road Trip is alive and well...and will pay dividends to those willing to take it on in the proper spirit.
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