One more time

Another year begins. Yesterday was a perfect New England day. It started with sunshine, became gray, and then the snow came down as if a goose down jacket had been ripped open above. It was good New England snow, not that smarmy, touristy stuff. I love Massachusetts.
I worked in upstate Michigan in the winter, it was too cold and the wind seemed to never stop blowing. Detroit is the meanest city I have ever been in. Ann Arbor was nice. Bay city is too cold.
I worked in southern Texas in the summer. Too hot but the Mexican food was wonderful. Cheese, beef, and onion enchiladas still dwell in my mind. The Gulf coast of Texas is a miasma of memories. The scenery and the people were nice but how the mosquitos stand the stench of refineries and testosterone I don't know.
I worked in Louisiana in the summer. The people are wonderful, the shrimp is delicious, the coffee is deadly. It was there I had one of the most memorable moments of my life.
I hired Stanley Toups there. Stanley was a nice, quiet, hard working boy but Stanley could not walk down the sidewalk without tripping over the cracks. He was the most ungainly, fumbly, person I have ever met. I used to ride him home every night because he could get lost on the street he was born on. One evening he wantef me to come into the house as he said his Mother wanted to meet me.
I met a wonderful lady. She was effusive in thanking me for giving Stanley a job and invited me to a family party that Saturday evening.
There are times in life when you say to yourself " I have to remember this day.". It turned out that Saturday evening was when the family shrimp boat came back in. I met Stanley's Father, brothers, and sister. His Father was effusive in thanking me for giving Stanley a job. I realized that working on a shrimp boat can be dangerous, winches roaring, nets snaking about, and the boat tossing and diving. Stanley would not have survived five minutes.
The Moon had risen, the bayou was calm, the shrimp were boiling in a large cauldron set over a fire built in a sandbox on the deck, the beer was in a mound of ice, and the cousins, aunts, and uncles were singing to a small accordian. One of those "I have to remember." moments.
It was then that I met Stanley's sister. Skin like cream, hair like ebony, and eyes like emeralds. We danced. It was then that I met Stanley's oldest brother. A chest as big as a semi trailer, hands like catchers mitts, and a silly, polka-dot hat. He informed me "You can dance with her all night long but she is coming home with us and I don't ever want to see you near her again Yankee.". I accepted the advice of this resident Sequoia.
I worked in Mississippi and Alabama in the Summer. It is nice to be able to take a steam bath while walking.
I worked in Georgia when the peaches were ripe. To bite into a ripe peach and have the juice run down your arm is unforgettable.
I worked in Orangeburg, South Carolina during a civil rights demonstration and, being a boy from Newton, Massachusetts, I joined in. The next day two of the local men explained to me that that was a bad idea. They explained it in a rather physical manner.
I worked in New York City on 125th street for six months. The subway was confusing but I still cherish the sub sandwiches with sausage, peppers, and onions. I could see the arch in Washington park from my room. Grenwhich Village in the early sixties was magnificent.
I always come back to Massachusetts. I have found no finer place, although Cape May, New Jersey is a close second. Bermuda is pretty close also, except for the Portuguese Man O'War. OOOOWWWWW, always wear sandals on the beach. They have Double Diamond.
Boston, Athens of America, home of the bean and the cod, and Nils too.