My main accomplishment this weekend was driving a Ford F-150. They threw the keys to me and said, “Take the truck!” My honor did not permit me to say I was terrified to drive this enormous, automatic transmission vehicle, the location of whose hand brake and gear shift were not immediately evident. I succeeded at the endeavor, however, and I feel quite accomplished. The Ford F-150 I drove was red.
Saturday my Creole speaking yard man and I laid flooring for five straight hours. Usually on Saturdays I listen to WWOZ but I was on my way to deeper bayous later so I pointed the radio to KRVS which has a truly excellent show, the Zydeco Stomp. With the Zydeco Stomp and your host Herman Fuselier you can “have a bon temps” even laying flooring in the heat. When we finished he changed into snakeskin cowboy boots, because he was going to a dance.
I pulled out a dry bag and put some things in it, and transported myself to the Basin where we traveled nine miles in canoes, which was quite primordial. What most impressed me was that although the boats are in fact low to the water, the the moonlight created the illusion that the water was far below the prows. In the slow water among dark trees with the glowing we had entered another world.
It was late when we reached our destination. At the dock there were flat bottomed motorboats just putting in, country men going frogging at midnight (and out of season). They were happy, leaning back and smiling to the sky as the boats slid down the ramp. Then they were off into the mist, leaving quiet wakes — trails through the world that wavelets traced, then blurred.
Axé.
coldhearted scientist وداد 
Wish I could have joined you in the boat. Not with the flooring, though. I can’t do work like that any more.
The flooring is done wrong and this is why I am in a bad mood — I let myself get talked into the idea that it was as good as it could be and this, I am now informed, was not true. As I suspected.
The trip was great. I need to do fewer things like flooring and more things like that. Every time I do something like that trip — which in fact I could do much more than I do — I am reminded of how different life would feel if I did do just that.
They did the same to me, but I think the truck was even bigger. And it was in freaking LA. They tried to convince me that cars were afraid of me, I shouldn’t be afraid of cars. It still was stressful.
What I’m afraid of is that I’ll hit some object — those trucks are just so long and wide. I’m also not used to automatic transmission, power steering, and all of that — these features make the vehicle jump just anywhere at the slightest touch.