It's almost 1 am here, and I just had another visit from the Louisiana welcome wagon (sheriff's deputies). I found the site in Dodson about 11:00pm, and a comfy spot to park for the night, just down the road. While munching on a tuna sandwich and the leftovers from my MRE lunch... a thump thump thump passed under my van striking the underside hard several times. Eating by the soft glow of my laptop, I looked out the windows, but it's dark and I was too scared to turn on a light, or open a window. I saw nothing but decided that this time I didn't need to "see to believe". There is something or somebody out there. A little freaked out, I started the van and pealed out of there without looking back. So, I decided to park across the road from the Weyerhouser plant, where many cars are parked and it seems to be a shift change as people are coming and going from the lot. I thought no one would notice me pull in and park, finish my M&M's and sugar cookies (that's the leftovers, real M&M's in them MREs) and then catch a few winks before 8am.

Well, somebody noticed me. Awakened at 1 am by a sharp rasp of a flashlight against my window... damn that's loud! It seems Weyerhouser called 911 about a suspicious vehicle in the lot.... Uh huh! Me! After the deputy took my license, registration, insurance, and asked about 50 questions... he phoned Weyerhouser to verify my story. Simple enough right? Well, Weyerhouser FORGOT about a satellite install and said they know nothing of me, so I was dragged out, half asleep in my underwear, into the parking lot to stand in front of the cop car, while my van is checked for weapons, narcotics and explosives. Eventually, a couple guys wearing hard hats show up to talk to the deputies, and it looks as though I'm headed to jail for trespassing.... The cop who has now heard my whole weeks account of excitement, this being the frosting on the cake, and assured me it was only an alligator under my van (only an alligator!), sort of takes my side and tries to encourage the Weyerhouser guys to say "I'm not sure", rather than"he shouldn't be here"... but they aren't getting it... Cop believes me and clearly does NOT want to arrest me, but states he will have to if they are CERTAIN that I do not belong here.... About then, some idiot's voice is preceded over the radio by the awful beep of Nextel, "Uh guy's, I think we were supposed to have a satellite installed at the mill today". The Nextel belongs to one of the hard hat wearing fools, who replies to the effect, "then why did you call 911?" So the cops let me get my shorts out of the van, let me sit comfortably in their back seat (ha), and we sit and chat a while longer, I didn't see the cowering bastards in the hard hats again, they slithered off without even saying "goodnight" or "sorry dude". And now I guess I’m supposed to just go back to sleep?

I gave the one cop a cold Pepsi, they wished me sweet dreams and one said "Welcome to Louisiana" as they laughed their way back to their patrol cars.

If I made shit up - it wouldn't be this good,

Bill Gerker

Continuing Where I Left Off
If we had a newsletter, or even a website, I would surely have a column, back of the last page, though it may be. Names may be changed to protect the innocent (and slander the pricks).

So, today is the day we pay the piper. The Ying for yesterday's Yang. Nothing was right today, but still "not a bad day to be me" as I like to say. Picking up where I left off- 2am...

One dude, Tommy Davis, at Dodson was very helpful, yet, agreed I should leave after witnessing me standing up for myself to his boss. I didn't mind hearing the same old joke again. Later in the day gents at Grambling asked for the Playboy channel, and I laughed and said "Oh, I haven't heard that one before" and it was all cool. But the idiots at Dodson had sent a "boy" out to get me where I was sweating, and working out my frustration from the early morning and the eventual realization that the "warehouse" as described by the no trespassing sign was about 100 yard behind the sign. Hence it is unlawful for any non employee to EVER enter the premises for any reason what so ever.... You must sign in first , but you can't get to were you need to sign in without first trespassing. This MIGHT be understandable if the "warehouse" was marked as such and maybe a sign read "all visitors must check in here" like everywhere else in the world.............. By the way, what they refer to as the warehouse is the single smallest structure on the 80 acre mill. It was full when I arrived and more than half empty after I removed the 4 satellite systems, (smaller than my garage).

After the boy brought me into the lunch room (boy is older than me, but dark skinned and this is the south) (I don't think I've heard anyone say "Hey boy" like that since 1976 when Roots made it's network television debut) I was expecting perhaps an apology, but the 3 men and 3 ladies in the room were almost chuckling, and someone said, ":Well, go ahead Scottie" and the fat bastard spoke, "We want to know what it would cost to get TNN on this TV here". I replied, "If you have to ask, you can't afford it." and started leaving the room, shaking my head in disbelief. But nooooooo, Fat Bastard wasn't done. He proceeded with a barrage of questions that made no one laugh, and tension grew when the grey bearded fella in red suspenders spoke up to say, "You can git us one of them black boxes, can't cha". This dude looked just like Roy from Hee Hah, but was wearing the skinny guys red suspenders.... I'm a pickin'... and I'm a grinnin'!

Needles to say, I had had enough. And I looked Fat Bastard in the face and said, "I've been doing this for 13 years. If ya'll come up with something I haven't heard, I'd love to sit here and listen while my meter's runnin'. But I've had a rough morning, starting out with a flashlight beating on my windshield at 2am, then two hours to find the equipment I'm here to install, and a no trespassing sign between the only way in and the sign-in shack, well that's just stupid". One individual said they knew nothing of my harassment in the lot across the street, to which I replied, "Someone called 911 from this side of the street last night and none of you even heard about it? I guess you're not in the communication business are you?". "I have work to get done, thank you" as I exited the room.

Well, Fat Bastard still hadn't had his fill, so he followed me out into the lawn where I was returning to assemble the antenna. Telling me again how none of them knew anything about it, and I was out of line. I retorted that they were out of line by "showing such little respect for me that they would call me in from working hard for you to make jokes at my expense". He went on to say something, but my phone was ringing now and I knew whoever it was, I would much rather be talking to them, instead of listening to this stuffed shirt.

Heather's timing in calling me was perfect. He was becoming violent and obviously uncomfortable by my insistent direct eye contact. (Why do rich people quiver when you stare at their eyes? I learned that at the dog track 18 years old, and it's still very useful. Poor people don't care, or even appreciate the undivided attention). I had already realized that I had the right to remain silent, but I didn't have the ability. Thankfully, he left before I hung up the phone, but Tommy Davis was still there through it all, and he told me these are the nicest people in the world and he wasn't going to let me talk to his people like that anymore. So I explained that I had better move on to my next sight because I didn't feel the stuffed shirt could stay away very long. And I am wanting to look more professional than this, but I can't seem to turn the other cheek today.

I loaded up my tools, and all garbage, put the dish under the roof overhang, bundled and tie-wrapped the cable at both ends, and left... getting almost a mile away before screaming my profanities out the window loudly (safely out of ear-shot).

The second site went well. I didn't finish it, missing a cable adaptor anyway, I just didn't have the drive. Especially after the crew of 7 "helping me" left me and another guy on the roof and took the man-lift down stranding us, forgetting about us, and going inside....... We didn't wait long before the guy on the roof with me whistled at a passing forklift, and had the driver come operate the man-lift. No biggie, I accidentally do that stuff to Ray sometimes, and he doesn't complain.

Up here in the North, which they call the South, there are many refugee, I mean evacuee camps, and Red Cross shelters, but it's not the some camaraderie we find in the devastated areas. If your caught sleeping along the road side in Waveland they thank God you're alive, here they arrest you. But yet, next to my hotel is a Drive Through Daiquiri shop! 86 flavors, double shots $1 more, served in Styrofoam cups, and the bartender, I mean clerk said, "don't put your straw in it, or it's an open container", as he handed me the straw.... Say What Willis? He asked me not to take his picture, but I'm going back tomorrow for photo of the menu board.

Yep, you heard right, hotel. I splurged on a hotel, prime rib with grilled onions, peppers and mushrooms, and a Banana Daiquiri - to go! Three reasons really, one I didn't want to push my luck with the local sheriff or the local alligators, and two, I needed a hot shower for a change. Even the showers at Stennis Space Center are "ground water cold" about 68 -70 degrees. That'd be OK if it were Celsius. (I know that's too hot... one can always turn it down) And three, I called 7 hotels and found 2 available rooms, so I'm right on the edge of room availability.(get it while you can philosophy)

Day what? 13? 16? I can't remember when I left home. Damned daiquiri.

Bill Gerker