Loo see anna

Louisiana reminds me of the sound of a slide guitar. I know that sounds like an artsy description, but it’s true. I imagine swinging my hips in a cotton dress hanging laundry outside to dry.

We made it to Gulf Shores last night and are camping at the State Park. It’s right next to the beach and on the inland water. A group of friends from Louisiana are across our site, celebrating one woman’s 44^th birthday. They have a big camper and are set up with karaoke. They invited us to come over and hang out, the clincher being that they offered us supper – we hadn’t even started out grill – so we went over and had jambalaya and ribs. Have you ever heard of a game called karaoke suicide? Me neither, but I found out last night. Everyone passes around the microphone and whatever song pops up on the screen is the one you have to sing. Imagine my surprise when I got, “Bennie and the Jets”. Maybe, maybe I’ve heard it once on the radio – I’m not even sure if that’s true. I warbled through it, feeling like I was back in middle school gym class. Seeing the volleyball head right for me, knowing full well I couldn’t hit it. I kept saying, “if it were a song I knew”. Probably not convincing anyone but me that if it had been a song I was good at singing in the shower I would have been able to let loose, wowing everyone.