LAKE ARTHUR SOCIAL LIFE.

We are parked next to the American Legion in Lake Arthur, Louisiana, waiting for good weather. The patrons here told us we have to stay through Thursday, because they cook jambalaya for everyone for lunch.  The cooks arrived about nine. Flys was cutting cabbage for the coleslaw.

Norman was taking a break while Mark cut up the pork meat.

Most of the fat comes off, but not all of it. Then it is set to brown.

When it is almost browned, the sausage is added and it gets stirred some more.

In another pot, fresh crowder peas cook. And still another pot holds rice.

Sally added water and seasoning and took her turn stirring.

Norman gave it his approval and Sally began loading styrofoam trays with the free  lunch for everyone in the bar.

We bought a round of beers for the cooks and others did the same. Julia, the bartender is  very able and practically runs, she is so busy.

We finally met the Commander of Post 403, his name’s Don. He says he doesn’t like crawfish which is a sin in this part of the world. His father told him he wasn’t a true cajun. We laughed.

The patrons here depend on the friendships they’ve developed. It is their social life and joy to get together, drink and eat. The bar always has peanuts, pork  rinds, or something to nibble on. Beer here is lite and only comes in 10 oz cans.  The man standing closest to Jim, is Shannoo. He owns the LA Bar downtown. Everyone has dictated that we HAVE to go to the LA Bar and after we had lunch and a beer, we did.

It is in an old historic building and according to some of the pipeliners, it is well-known outside Louisiana.

It is one of those places that has jokes and stuff and a big horned deer head hanging on the walls; dollar bills pinned to the ceiling, and 75-year-old whiskey. Shannon, doing bartender duty,  is the owner’s wife. Her husband is also named Shannon, so he removed the n, added an o, and goes by Shannoo.

We were told the LA Bar serves the very best bloody mary money can buy. It was different, spicy and delicious with a green bean, carrot stick and okra pickle, an olive and lemon slice.

When the previous owner died, the bar was closed for four years. The locals are appreciative that this young couple in their thirties rescued their famous icon. Shannon told me some of these bottles are 75 years old and have never been opened. They are no longer for sale.

I enjoyed taking pictures of  humorous signs.

Some are as old as that whiskey.

Wry humor.

This one is barely readable. It looks like politicians were just as popular 75 years ago as they are today.  Politicians and drunks not permitted on premises.

We walked toward the boardwalk at the lake. A beautiful oak greeted us at the end of Main St. Then the winds and rain suddenly started up again, and we had to abandon our walk.

We read for most of the day. Then back in the American Legion bar for a nightcap. Mark and Marlene were back as well. Mark will take us out to net catfish in his boat this morning if the weather isn’t too wet and too windy. Everyone seems to like everyone in this community. You never hear them grumble and complain about their neighbors. Fine salt of the earth people who know how to have fun. Tonight there will be a dance with a DJ.

BEFORE THE BIG EVENT

From Mary’s Desk:

The family continues to arrive:

Daughter Kristanne. We call her the Princess of Bling!!!

Her boys, Austin The Red, and  Alec Two Fork, the turbo eater, who is 17 going on 25. (He has two hollow legs.)

Daughter Virginia,  busily cooking dinner-

Daughter-in-law Laurie, also busily cooking dinner. I’m so lucky to have four gourmet cooks in the family. Virginia, Laurie, Doug and Cedric. Kristanne does open and pour cooking. Ken can do pancakes and eggs.

The results, ratatoule, ricotta stuffed shells, and jambalaya and a salad. Cookies and ice cream for desert.
The day was spent playing on the trampoline, fluming, card games, dominoes, practicing guitar and uke, squirt gun wars, and in general, “hanging out”.
The line of the day came from 10 year old grandson Owen, “I think you shouldn’t be required to like zuchinni until you are 15 years old”
Eight year old Theo wanted to show his domino magic:

For more family photos click the link below
http://picasaweb.google.com/1579penn/7210ReadyForTheBigDay#

LAISSEZ LES BON TEMPS ROULER

Laissez les bon temps rouler, a greeting you hear all over Cajun country. It means let the good times roll, and they do at Fred’s Lounge in Mamou, 10 miles out of Eunice. We arrived by 7:30 in order to get a seat when the bar opened at 8 A.M. Fred’s is only open Saturdays with live music, drinking and dancing. The two couples below were the early birds along with Jim and I. Calvin Daigle, standing closest, brought breakfast from Charlies Place around the corner, a heaping pile of boudin, (boydan) in a piece of butcher paper along with a paper bag of cracklins. The still warm sausage, slightly spicy with a soft texture more like stuffing than meat was wonderful. I believe it had rice in it. The cracklins were inch thick pieces of bacon fried crisp, unlike any cracklins I ever tasted. Calvin and his wife Nonie, (next to the wall,) are regulars at Fred’s. Sally and Mike Wenckus are from Golf, Ill.

Before the musicians had set up to play, a crew of guys out back iced down beer to keep the refrigerators inside full. A couple of guys set up a pot to make jambalaya. Some one asked what time it would be ready? “Oh, somewhere between 9 and 2, he claimed.” No charge for the jambalaya. Its part of the “experience.” We walked out back and claimed a heaping bowl full around noon. Good stuff.

Getting the meat started for the jambalaya.

Nonie & Cal started the dancing before it got crowded. The Cajun musicians were Scotty on Accordion, Jason on Violin, Ray on drums, who also sang, and Smiley on guitar. No fanfare or introductions, Nonie told me their names because she knows them all. They just play, with no breaks from 9 until 2. Sometimes longer. The music is broadcast live  from Freds and a different group plays each Saturday.

After a couple hours the crowd looked like this. Then, later, you couldn’t get back far enough to take a picture. It was necessary to slide between people. I slid by this one guy with a clothes pin and money attached to his beads. He told me it was too crowded to get his money out of his pocket so he carries it “up-front.” Everyone is friendly and polite. No cross words spoken or drunken behavior evident, although the rules are, no standing on the jukebox, bar, or tables. And no kissing on the lips. Leon, in the striped shirt above, told me he kissed his girlfriend and owner,  Tante Sue,  wapped him on the head with her “no kissing” stick.

These two out-of-town women have been friends for 55 years. The Justice Of The Peace, on the left, offered to marry Jim and I, and rescind it for no extra charge, but we declined.

Tante Sue keeps the whole shebang running. Between slapping beers on the bar, counting change, cleaning up a cans, bottles and glasses, she is known to break into dance with the music while playing the accordion on her shirt, reach in her holster for some “Hot Damn”, take a slug and yell “Quinta!” (which means Who Dat?) In fact, she sometimes tastes a new pint of Hot Damn before handing it over to the customer.

This couple pilgrimage to Fred’s twice a year. She once lived in Santa Barbara, CA for four years but couldn’t stay away from Louisiana. They have Targil’s Spices, you can order on line. Everyone is rooting for love-him-or-hate-him Shockey and the Saints, and gearing up for Mardi Gras.

I met Mikell above in line for the bathroom. She is almost ready for Mardi Gras and we coined some folksy wisdom, no matter where you are, be it fancy or folksy, women have to wait in line for the bathroom.