Journal: #327 My Friend David
Hello from New Orleans. It’s like Charleston, but more flamboyant. I’m with one of my best friends, David. We spent the day fishing on the bayou and it was fantastic. For starters, we actually caught fish. For amateur fishermen, that’s a big deal. Guys like us don’t usually catch much. We’d like to thank our guide and lifelong fisherman Jimmy. He was as Louisiana as you’d imagine— a distinct cajun accent, thick forearms, and never too far from a shaker of creole seasoning.
On paper, David and I have little in common. He’s married with four children, tall, and skinny (though more round than ever.) My friend grew up a missionary kid in Colombia and is fluent in three languages. History is his passion, so he never misses an opportunity to stop by a museum or battlefield. (One reason will likely visit the War War 2 museum tomorrow.)
In case you need a refresher, I’m still very single and a bit round. My formative years were also spent in a Columbia. In South Carolina. I’m still learning to write in my native English language, and I’d rather go to an art museum. Of course none these differences matter. It’s the conversations we will have along each stop that matter.
David and I spent the evening discussing God and politics as we drove up to New Orleans. I loved it. In all honesty, real conversation with him is all I want. You might say this trip is an elaborate excuse to talk in person to him. David is one of those friends who is willing to teach and explain. And, his patience is legendary. He never makes me feel stupid or ashamed for any of my interests.
As I think about today and what’s the rest of the week holds, I know I’m blessed. I’m blessed to have a great friend willing to meet me anywhere he can. Moreover, I’m blessed to be able to afford the trip and work for a company will to let me work whenever I want. One day soon I’ll have a different set of blessings— hopefully including a wife and kids. I won’t be able to pick up and fly to New Orleans or go solo hiking in Oregon.
For now, I’m going to soak up the rest of the week and stretch every moment with David as long as possible. Once I return to Redding, it’ll be the dead of summer. The heat will be at its zenith, and I have no more trips planned. Then it’s an eight week sprint to September 7th, when I’ll make more friends.
