DEC-C-4
THE LONG, LONG DRIVE ON NEW YEAR’S
EVE
FROM MOOREHEAD CITY TO ATLANTA
TO JOIN WITH OLD FRIENDS IN CELEBRATION
OF THE COMING OF 2002 WITH CHAMPAGNE
IN A PARTY CRAWL THROUGH MARIETTA,
NEW YEAR’S DAY IMMERSED IN FOOTBALL
AND GIBBS FAMILIES, STOCKING UP FOR OUR TRIP
AND A SURPRISE SOUTHERN SNOWFALL
Dec. 31, 2001---Jan. 4, 2002
It wasn’t easy. I have made it across the states of North and South Carolina, into Georgia, and around Atlanta to Marietta, which I thought was a half way jaunt, and turned out to be about 600 miles at cruise control speed. But, the Bronco and I, both at advanced ages, never faltered, and the non-stop cruise arrived in time to make it to two New Year’s Eve parties. I could have got confused, in directing myself toward Jacksonville—to discover that it was in North Carolina, or to Augusta, to find out that it was in South Carolina just before the Savannah River that marks the Eastern border of Georgia and not the Southwestern border of the same state on a river where the town of the same name marks the border with Alabama. It was actually the autolocate feature of the Garmin GPS and its internally built in map (as contrasted with the CD with which it is programmable by linking the details from the CD into the hand-held GPS with a program that plugs into the laptop CD reader) that found me going the right way along the long trek through swamps with four-wheel ATV’s from deer hunters with hounds being deployed along the way as I spent the day of New year’s Eve eating miles and listening to audiobooks.
The first party was that hosted by Been and Barbara Bailey, who had known me well in the sweet by and by twenty five years back when I was hustled all around rural Georgia and parts south giving talks to small hospital groups. Been is big in the thespian productions of his church choir and performing arts, so it was a “Show” in which he was giving the emcee’s over-long introductions to his daughter Luisa, singing “I can’t say ‘No’” from Rogers and Hammerstein, his son, Ben, who plays the drums and now plays with computers, and Ben who croons theatric light operas with gowned leading ladies. It was an “at home, with music” performance, which Paul and Betty Gibbs and I attended, before leaving early to go on to a neighborhood party of young marrieds, playing guitars and swilling champagne while watching the last act of New York’s now-canonized Mayor Rudy Giuliani usher in 2002.
NEW YEAR’S DAY:
MELISSA, CHRIS SWARTZ AND KIDS
AND TURKEY FRYING CARIVING AND FOOTBALL
The football disasters of the holidays were the worst bowl defeat ever for Michigan by Tennessee, a blowout of Colorado by Oregon (what championship; team would be called the “Ducks”?—why, that is almost as bad as the “Terps!”) Speaking of the Maryland shelled reptiles, they were blown away by the Gators, and the Bowl games are still going on with a Miami/Nebraska game as far into the New Year on the 3rd of January to bump in to the Super Bowl. I hear it has something to do with money and TV.
Melissa has done well with her kids, Paul and Betty’s grandkids, Blake, Gareth, CJ and Cameron Rose—the first Grand daughter. She is home schooling them in a big house near Paul and Betty’s in the toney area of Marietta. The kids built fires in the back yard dressed in camo, under their enormous and still expanding tree fort. The men of the household stood around discussing important matters—like the temperature of the peanut oil in the turkey fryer—while drinking beer and glancing at the Bowl games.
A VISIT TO THE JOHNSON’S FERRY BAPTIST MEGA-CHURCH
AND THE RARE VISIT OF A SOUTHERN SNOWSTORM
I went to the grocery with BR, and on the way we stopped at the huge JFBC complex, which I had last been in at Christopher’s and Danielle’s wedding. BR was eager to have me see the additions—the full gymnasium, theatre, short-order eatery (the church has a full time chef who had formerly been a cruise line chef.) There are 13 full time ministers, 100 full time paid staff members, and some 8,000 members and it is still growing. They have a very prominent missions program with a promise to spend ten percent of their overall budget on missions—and just that part is over a million dollars. The care ministry will hear of someone who has lost a job and take over his or her mortgage payments. BR introduced me to a few of the folk who are in the missions interest, and I wrote emails to follow-up on a Bruce Steffes in Papua New Guinea (a place high on my “must visit” list) and another who has been active in Kyrgistan (I had just showed Paul that Marco Polo offer for this Turkic Republic)
We made plans to see Ravi, but we were interrupted by a rare event. He is leaving Friday for India and so is rushed, but everything came to a close when both the airport and city of Atlanta got closed own by a rather magic looking six inch snowfall. I took next year’s Christmas pictures of Paul and BR in front of their house transformed by the snow blanket, which can hardly last since it seems too warm for the depth of it all. All schools and day care facilities are closed. I could stay indoors and proof the texts of the Tropical Surgery special edition of Current Problems in Tropical Surgery (due in 24 hours after it was received over a week ago) and make up the shopping lists that will be needed for the Cumberland gang over the weekend and the three-day hunt.
Donald and Kathy are allegedly celebrating their anniversary, while the two children Andrew William (a prince by Donald’s description, subsequent to his experience with) Kacie Elizabeth—a very High Maintenance demanding