THE MIKE FICK STORY - how would you handle a major life change like mike's ?
How would you handle a major life altering event in your life ? This video is an insight into the way Mike Fick handled his life changing in the blink of an eye ... when the ladder slipped ....
THIS IS NEVER GOING TO HAPPEN !
She was a charming beautiful Southern lady. Well dressed and poised. She turned to me, smiled, and gave me her full attention.
“Well … I am really enjoying it,” I started. Clearly my role was to help his wife see the merit of her husband’s dream.
Okay, I am way behind on my blog posts. I have excuses but won’t bore you with them. Albeit one involves me accidentally erasing several video posts that I had worked on for days.
(Fortunately I still have the raw footage on an external hard drive so I can recreate them for posting later.)
After New Orleans I spent several days at the Marine Pilot’s Institute sitting in on the training of ship pilots brushing up on their skills of docking whomping-big container ships. They use simulators like airline pilots use, plus training on 1/25 scale model ships on water in model channels similar to major ship harbors. I will post that video later.
Next I drove ARGO to Thomasville Georgia and stopped at a Georgia plantation. A well-to-do gentleman there looked wistfully at ARGO and me. He asked what it was like traveling around America. I will not use his name to protect the envious.
“I have dreamed of doing that,” he said, “Driving the back roads, exploring, stopping at small cafes. How do you like it?”
“Love it,” I answered, “Love it. I’m having a ball taking my time on the circle I am making around America, talking to people and just discovering America.”
After a bantering about it for some time, he thanked me and started walking back to his group he was with made up of several couples. Then he turned back towards me.
“Would you mind taking a minute to meet my wife and friends?”
“Sure.”
He walked me over, making the introductions, lauding me with almost celebrity status.
I soon realized why he instantly held me in such high regard. And I quickly comprehended his dilemma.
“Honey,” he said to his wife, “This is John Butler, the man who we saw driving the big silver Airstream. He’s traveling around America like I’ve talked about wanting to do someday. Tell her about it, John.”
She was a charming beautiful Southern lady. Well dressed and poised. She turned to me, smiled, and gave me her full attention.
“Well … I am really enjoying it,” I started. Clearly my role was to help his wife see the merit of her husband’s dream.
I rambled on about my project to discover America one story at a time.
“Tell her about how comfortable your interior is and how the sofa makes a bed at the push of a button, John,” he coaxed.
I obliged him with a vivid description of the interior with its various features, and how easy it is to drive it. The man looked like he was in a near trance-like state envisioning the day he would be talking a trip like mine.
His wife nodded, smiling as I continued talking and as her husband continued wheedling me along.
Her smile said she understood what I was saying. Her eyes and body language said, THIS IS NEVER GOING TO HAPPEN.”
They invited me to stay and have dinner with them and their friends but I needed to move on down the road before night fall. And so I left my new friend, with his dreams, and his wife, with her dream of stopping his dream.
I’m being funny with that line and that’s a little unfair of me. My guess is that the thought of such a trip was scary for her, fearing the discomfort of traveling on the open road so far from the safety of her home, family and friends.
I think of them from time to time. I hope he won her over and they are off on the adventure of their lives away from their comfort zone. I hope they find what Mark Twain, one of my favorite authors, knew to be true:
“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”
WALKING TO NAWLINS
But being by myself, midst the party, I suddenly felt alone. I do not feel that very often. And I don’t feel lonely when I am alone. It’s when I am in a situation like this, friends laughing at stupid jokes. Couples affectionately holding hands. I feel a void. No one to share the experience with. No one to laugh at my stupid jokes.
Continuing my ultimate road trip, I drove into the French Quarter of New Orleans in the afternoon. Passed by Cafe Du Monde and had to stop out of tradition. I have memories there. Happy ones. A lot of people do. After all it was established in 1862.
Cafe Du Monde is an open-air landmark, the original French Market coffee shop. A spot where you indulge yourself with beignets. Just saying “ben-YAY” makes me smile. There are three to an order; deep fried choux pastries covered in powdered sugar (insert yummm here) served on a small thick ceramic coffee saucer. And the only proper drink to accompany these little delights is their strong Cajun coffee with roasted chicory. So strong most people prefer it cafe au lait style. With steamed hot milk.
They made coffee “cool” long before Starbuck’s; or rather I should say “hot.” Cafe Du Monde is open 24 hours a day 7 days a week and only closes on Christmas Day … or if a hurricane passes by.
I had to park a few blocks away. On the walk to the café it began to rain, and then rain harder. I arrived soaked.
A young waiter in a crisp white shirt with black bow tie, black slacks, and an old school folded paper hat escorted me to one of the little tables. It was toward the center of the outdoor area covered by a large green and white awning saving us from the rain. But the rain made for a perfect setting for a New Orleans afternoon at Cafe Du Monde.
The name roughly translates to the people’s cafe or cafe. So here I sat with the people around me, for the moment escaping the go faster world on the other side of the rain.
It was relaxing in this little cafe at the edge of the French Quarter, carefully sipping a cafe’ au lait. Three beignets later I reached a state of caffeine and sugar bliss.
The rain moderated, so I sauntered down the street past one curio shop after another. Those are the shops you enter with no intention of buying anything. Then some item grabs your attention. Some trinket that is destined to be a future garage sell item. Marked down to fifty-cents before it sells.
Buying it seems like a rational idea at that moment. A gewgaw to remind you of the rainy day you spent in New Orleans. Yep, I bought it. A coffee mug. And yes, I’ll send you an email before my next garage sell.
The rain stopped. I meandered down several of the French Quarter sidewalks. Very seedy. Questionable people standing around corners, laying in the doorways. Dirty streets.
I returned that night, curious if things were different. They were. Many of the street people were moved on by the local police. Couples and groups filled the French Quarter going from bar to jazz club to bar. They walked with drinks in hand in party mode. Talking loudly. Laughing for no apparent reason. Bursting out with random chants. Greeting strangers as old long lost friends. Great people watching as the smell of bourbon, daiquiris and beer wafted thru the air.
But being by myself, midst the party, I suddenly felt alone. I do not feel that very often. And I don’t feel lonely when I am alone. It’s when I am in a situation like this, friends laughing at stupid jokes. Couples affectionately holding hands. I feel a void. No one to share the experience with. No one to laugh at my stupid jokes.
Time to get back to ARGO. ARGO was parked in a public City of New Orleans’s parking lot. Not cheap. Another hour in the lot and I would have to finance it. Plus, ahead of me on this night was a drive over Lake Pontchartrain to Covington, where I would spend the night. I would be driving on the longest straight bridge over water in the world. The Lake Pontchartrain Causeway, especially if it’s windy, can be dicey.
The street party was still going strong when I left.
DISCOVERING AMERICA ONE STORY AT A TIME — THE ULTIMATE ROAD TRIP
Sometimes the journey you planned isn’t the journey you needed—and that’s where the magic begins. The detours uncover the secrets.
When award-winning author and radio/TV personality John W. Butler set out on a drive across America, he thought he was chasing the country he remembered. Instead, he found people, places, and stories that changed the way he saw everything—including himself.
Heartland Highways: In Search of America is a beautifully told road-trip memoir filled with backroads wisdom, small-town surprises, and the kind of unexpected moments that remind you life still has chapters left to write.
Whether you’re dreaming of your next adventure, starting a new season of life, or simply craving a story that makes you want to pack a bag—this is the road trip you’ll feel in your soul.
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It is a journey I could only do alone. My transportation is ARGO, an Airstream Interstate Extended motor coach. I named it ARGO after the first steamship to intentionally circumnavigate the earth. Fitting I thought since I am circumnavigating America. ARGO allows me the freedom to meander the smaller blue roads and explore off the beaten paths.
So, that is what the Buzz is about, a journey of discovery. It would almost cost me my life at one point, but that's a story for later,
I invite you to come along with me.
Follow as I chronicle the people, places, history and culture in America today.
