Sunday, March 2, 2025

10 Years Ago: Where the Hell Am I, Louisiana: The Map App

 

Speaking of maps, Judgmental Maps is always binge-worthy. 

And these:

 

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Where the Hell Am I, Louisiana: The Map App



Part 1

A few years ago, I listened to a family member, let's call her Kiki, explain why she had not yet used the Onstar program in her new car. .... "Because it could take me into a dangerous area and I could end up DEAD!"

At the time, I thought two things:
  1. Paper maps could do the same thing; and 
  2. Hoo boy. 
But I kept my mouth shut.

It wasn't too long after that when Kiki was prevailed upon to try out her Onstar and she loved it!


Part 2:

So here it is March 2015, and I've got a smart phone now. On a fine weekend afternoon, I was fixing to drive from my new digs (oh, I haven't told you where I'm living now, have I?) to the village of Henderson which hugs a levee along the Atchafalaya River. I looked at about three route options on my map application, and selected one.

It was a pleasant day and my map app took me on a wind-y road, which was just fine with me. Then it wanted me to go over a bridge that wasn't there anymore, so I did a few circular maneuvers, asked a gentleman on the side of the road for some guidance, and he directed me to a way around that gone bridge, and then I was taken deeper and deeper into what reminded me of an old Stephen King story of the woman whose mission was to find the fastest way from Point A to Point B in Maine and her quest took her into a parellel universe where time got bend-y.

Until finally my map app carried me to what seemed to be an end of the road, on the other side of a wood-plank bridge with a PRIVATE PROPERTY sign posted, with my map app voice instructing me to go up the levee. Say what??

Near Henderson, Louisiana. March, 2015.



And it was at this moment that I thought of Kiki's dire predictions of murder and mayhem should she surrender herself to her Onstar.

Looking to my left, across the other bank of the bridge, I saw a group of men doing something along the river.

Having now read all of the Dave Robicheaux books (and having read Winter's Bone and watched the movie, based in the hinterlands of my own Missouri ), what might they be doing?  Running drugs for a South American cartel? Dispensing with a troublesome comrade? Or just fishing? Where's the ice chest to tell me all is as it should be?

Winter's Bone trailer:



"Talkin' just causes witnesses."

I crossed the wood-plank bridge with some trepidation and then asked one of the men, "I'm trying to get to Henderson from here ... but I'm confused about what I'm supposed to do now." One of the men said, "Well, you can turn on around here and go back the way you came ..... [insert my mental nervous swallow here] ... or you can go right and it'll take you 10 to 15 minutes to get there."

Because I am genetically programmed to not backtrack, I took a few moments to decide if "turn right" really meant "turn right" or did it mean "go up onto the levee and turn right?" Did the PRIVATE PROPERTY sign refer to the flat road to my right or the levee road up and to the right on the levee?

I chose the flatlander road on the right. When I say road, by the way, I'm talking gravel road.

This met with approval from my map app until a few miles down the road when it really, really wanted me to climb up onto the levee. Finally, I acquiesced and for some more miles drove on the gravel road up top, noticing that the flatland road kept on going on right beside me, down below. Eventually, I overcame the objections of my map app and got back down onto flat land.

All ended well, of course, but I took a different route home.  

I did see this pretty community of beehives on the way to Henderson:

Near Henderson, Louisiana. March, 2015.


Reminded me of Caucasus Georgia, on a visit to an agrarian technical school in Kachreti


[Update: A 2023 Al Jazeera cautionary story: Google Sued After Man Drove Off Collapsed Bridge Following Map Directions.]

Sunday, February 2, 2025

10 Years Ago: Relocation: Living With Uncertainty

 

Uncertainty

 

A state of being that is so insidious that interrogators use it as a tool of torture. 

 

Some related posts: 

2023.07: 2023 Word of the Year: FEAR: Frustration, Ego, Anxiety, Resentment

2023.03: 2023 Word of the Year: FEAR: Forgetting Everything's All Right

2021.07: Word of the Year: Joy 7: Birdsong

2013.07: The Little Girl Who Rides the Train

2020.11: The Day After They Called the Election: A Subdued Jubilation

2020.05: Relocation: COVID-19 Unfolding, Part 20: Where Am I Going?

2019.10: Tucson, AZ: A Bully's Ripple Effect

2016.11: Toronto: Airport: Livestock Management 


 

Wednesday, February 4, 2015

Relocation: Living With Uncertainty


Returning to South Louisiana for Year Two just two weeks before Mardi Gras may not have been the best idea. Based on my relocation experiences in the past - the speed at which I found wonderful permanent shelter, to be specific - it seemed rational to expect I'd be ensconsed somewhere cozy by the holiday.

But:
  • The prices for temporary lodging right before a major holiday in these parts go way over my budget. 
  •  I've learned that the demand for rental property in the Lafayette catchment area exceeds supply, especially at my price range. 
  • Rental property is generally high around here, so there are significant compromises on condition, size, view, and ambiance

Based on the above realities, anxiety and discomfort have kicked in. There is a desire to stop this discomfort that has no time-certain end. This tempts me to retreat into what's comfortable, like staying in Lafayette in Year Two simply because it's a known entity, or snagging any place that is minimally acceptable solely to end the home hunt.

However, when I pause for a few minutes and take a breath, really, I've got to appreciate that I have exceptional freedom.
  • For example, I don't even have to stay in South Louisiana! I could go anywhere! 
  • The Mardi Gras holiday is only a few days - once I get past that economic hurdle, then prices settle down again and I have way more breathing space to find the right home. And if need be, I can visit another region during Mardi Gras.  A sunny beach, maybe.
  • I could buy instead of rent, taking me into an entirely new adventure. 
  • I can open myself up to a much broader range of South Louisiana location possibilities. 

Here's what a couple of folks say about living with uncertainty:

The Tiny Buddha: 7 Ways to Deal with Uncertainty

Psych Central: 5 Tips for Living with Uncertainty


Om.

 

 

 

Thursday, January 2, 2025

10 Years Ago: Relocation 2015

 

 

This still makes me chuckle.

 

 

 

Tuesday, January 6, 2015

Relocation 2015

So here I am in Missouri for my usual interregnum between annual migrations.

You may have noticed that I haven't yet announced where I'll be living in 2015.

I can announce that my original plan was to move to Oaxaca (city), Mexico. That was my plan all the way up to, maybe, September, and then I surprised the hell out of myself and decided instead to

 

Wednesday, January 1, 2025

Word of the Year 2025

 

 

Shirt on a fence. Mobile, Alabama. August 2023. Credit: Mzuriana.
Shirt on a fence. Mobile, Alabama. August 2023. Credit: Mzuriana.

Below is what I wrote last year at this time about the word of the year thing. I'm still on the fence about it, but here I am again, nevertheless.

Some years back, I instituted a Word of the Year thing. 

Not sure I will continue. 

Maybe I'm just over it. Maybe it feels is too contrived. Maybe it was just a way to add content in a lazy-ass way, albeit with sincerity.

While I think about whether to continue the pattern, below are past words of the year: 

2018: Courage

2019: Action

 2020: Build

  1. Build 1: After the Floods
  2. Build 2: Fronterista
  3. Build 3: "House"
  4. Build 4: Chosens
  5. Build 5: It Takes a Village
  6. Build 6: Elevation
  7. Build 7: Trail Building
  8. Build 8: Money
  9. Build 9: Health 
  10. Build 10: Service and Activism
  11. Build 11: Relationships
  12. Build 12: Creative Life
  13. Lagniappe 13: My Rootless Goals

2021: Joy

2022: Disciplines

 2023: Fear

2024: Migration