Fuck a dead duck
Friday drove to the Belle Chase ferry to cross the Mississippi, daiquiri in one hand and Popeye’s fried chicken in the other. Then drove out to Point a la Hache to meet R on the banana boat, but on the way we passed some friends of A’s so we stopped to say hi – Mr. Shorty (aka Mr Magoo, he has Graves disease and wears coca cola-bottom thick glasses, so with his huge eyes he looks like Magoo) was holding court pontificating about some such thing and he said to me, see this point right here – “you can take a boat from here to anywhere in the world” – then we went to meet our boat. 
Auspicious beginnings for our duck hunting weekend – we were loaded down with camouflage, spirits and food and lots of goodwill. We arrived almost a half hour later in the middle of the swamp to the Ubangi camp. My my my – boys will be boys – it was done totally a la boy, with target practice set up everywhere, a mess structure, a sleeping structure and the makeshift turkey fryer hot water shower.
Three hours later fast forward and I am dancing in the mess structure and everyone is dancing with me. 
Five hours later I am crawling on my hands and knees struck by Ubangi fever that basically cripples me for the rest of the trip. I wake at 5AM to the men all putting on long johns and camou and hauling guns and wonder if I can make it outside to the bathroom for the umpteenth time. I cuss R’s name under my breath. Then I go back to bed and hear the gunfire sprinkling my distorted dreams.
I managed to rally for an airboat ride (doesn’t he look like GI Joe?) through the bayou and over the grasses to see the wild pigs, bald eagles, ospreys and ducks but the rest of the weekend saw me writhing in pain on the cot, on the sofa, and even on the ground.
Sunday, at 5:30 we’re headed back to the ferry – passing by the utter destruction of houses that took place in this area that saw 35 feet of water during Katrina – now it’s just all green and wild – then we’re crossing the Mississippi yet again on the ferry, the horizon blazing orange for a brief moment and Christmas music is playing and making the truck ride home seem more melancholy than it should. I’m 5 lbs lighter. As relaxed as I am going to be. And have no desire for camouflage anytime soon.