And on the first day of the fifth month of the year of our lord two thousand aught six, they headed west, towards the mountains, for they had work to do. And they settled in Denver, and it was good.

For five days they worked with the passion bestowed a project so great, and often their work took them past sundown and into the night. When their work was done and night had fallen upon them, they ate of the finest foods in the land, and drank of the finest wines, and celebrated their good fortune and current happiness, and it was good.

And nigh, as the sun fell upon the end of the fifth day, as they celebrated Mexican victory and French futility among their peers, partaking of the finest barley and hops from the South, they came upon a plan for a journey of great importance to them, and they determined it crucial that they embark upon this journey immediately. And it was good.

And in the dark of night in the early morning of the sixth day they travelled to the west, and continued on to the south, and they came upon their destination. They slept through the night, under the stars of the Western sky, to be awoken at first light by the sun in the East, and it was good.

And at daybreak of the sixth day of the fifth month of the year of our lord two thousand aught six they awoke, and they came upon Red Rocks, and it pleased them. And they travelled further down, until they came upon the amphitheatre, and they descended into it’s pit, and they were in awe. And as they stood in the pit of the amphitheatre as the sun rose in the east, they contemplated the the reality of their situation, and of all the names and faces that had been there before; Gov’t Mule, Widespread Panic, The Allman Bros. Band, the Dave Matthews Band, and countless others, and they were humbled by their good fortune and the pleasure that such contemplation brought, and it was good.

And they recorded their exploits in order to commit their journey to hearts and minds of future generations, and they placed these photographs and videos in public places, so that all could see.

And, of course, it was good.

This is a story about how a week long work trip to Jackson, MS turned into two weeks, and how two weeks turned into a month, and about the events that occurred therein. Your narrator is your protagonist, but some names and and other such details have been changed for the protection of those involved. The events of the weekend of March 30-April 2 will now be retold. Poorly.

First off, I’d like to start by saying that I don’t mind being here as long as I have been, and nor do I mind staying for another week longer. Mississippi is warm and deliberate, the people are friendly, and the barbecue is slow-cooked and delicious. But not everything is so wonderfully grand. My first weekend in town I traveled up to Memphis to visit with family and friends, watch some basketball, and go bowling at 12:30 AM on a Saturday night. This coming weekend I will see my way to Oxford, MS for Ole Miss’ annual Red/Blue weekend, where much fun is sure to be had as well. Last weekend, however, much fun was not had at all, and at the heart of the story which I’m about to tell explaining why, lies a big, juicy seventy-five dollar cheeseburger.

For you see, ladies and gentleman, when you order a hamburger at a particular eatery in Ridgeland, MS, an eatery which I am too much of a gentleman myself to accuse by name here (Alumni House), it is imperative that you order such a delicious burger WELL DONE. Oh, and what a delicious burger it will be, with bleu cheese and bacon, and on the most delectable bun you’ve ever let cross your lips and teeth. This is in fact no ordinary burger. This burger, as truly mouth-watering as it is, can only be justly enjoyed if chased by the antibiotics and other sundry prescription drugs necessary to stave off the food borne parasites that, while not listed on the menu, are definitely a key ingredient in this burger’s creation.

The effects of this burger on one’s taste buds will last for days, as evidenced by it’s call to it’s consumer from their own stomach. “Remember me, I’m still down here”, shouts burger to human. A jealous burger it is as well, not wanting it’s unfortunate enjoyment to be equaled ever again. “You will subsist on a diet of chicken noodle soup, saltine crackers, and Sprite forevermore”, roars the burger from it’s pit, once again reminding you how grand a burger it is, and how the bond that you have made with it will not be severed easily.

And on a glorious Sunday morning, beautifully created by our maker himself, as the last remnants of your devil burger release you from their steely grip, and you total the expenses from the meal and it’s fall out, you view the total costs brought to you by doctors, and pills, and crackers, and meals, and you think to yourself, “So that’s how a cheeseburger ends up costing $75.”

But you also think to yourself, “I’d do it again. For that burger, it was worth it.”

The Square in Oxford, MS is the heart and soul of the town, and one of the major draws for Ole Miss, and Square Books is at the cornerstone of the Square. I’ve always thought it quite ironic that the “Mecca for Mississippi Cool” is dubbed the Square, but hey, maybe that’s just me.

As I was travelling from from Memphis to Jackson today, I saw this sign, and had to stop and take a photo of it. When I was a freshman at Ole Miss, we saw a band of the same name play, and it wasn’t until a few years later that we realized where they had gotten their name from. Every time I see the sign it makes me laugh, and this time was no exception.

Why was it, in such moments just before I leave the South, did I always feels some easing of a great burden? It was as if someone had taken some terrible weight off my shoulders, or as if some old grievance had suddenly fallen away. The big plane took off, and circled in widening arcs over the city, over the landmarks of my past, and my people’s. Then, slowly, with a lifting heavy as steal, it cirlced once more, and turned north toward home.

Just seemed quite relevant to me to read such a passage on a flight from Memphis to Washington, D.C., after spending a wonderful weekend visiting with so many old friends, and making so many new friends that I couldn’t count them all with my socks and shoes on.