Riverboat Calliope
A riverboat serenades Mike with its onboard calliope, as it travels up the Mississippi River from its former port in Natchez.
Did you hear that? That’s the lovely sound of a calliope coming from one of the riverboats; I think it’s the Mississippi Queen heading north. It’s funny, they were playing a cover of "Proud Mary" earlier, and it took me way too long to "Name That Tune". I feel like a bit of a failure for not identifying it immediately, especially since I have friends in the drag scene like Cherry Poppins who could probably perform it in their sleep.
I’m hanging out here in Natchez, just bumming Wi-Fi and dealing with the usual small-town "shitshow" where everyone is up in my business. Being houseless at the moment means people love to make asinine judgments based on hearsay, but honestly, it’s a good way to sort the "cream from the chuff" when it comes to friends. It’s started to rain now, but I never complain about the rain; after you live through a few wildfires, rain feels like a refreshing, cleansing thing for all the sins of the week.
I know some of you are wondering what happened to my lip. Long story short: I spent three days in the Adams County jail. It was actually quite an interesting experience because, unlike many places, the jail is run by black women who were incredibly respectful and professional. Of course, there was one white corrections officer who was a complete douchebag, but the women kept him in check.
As for the lip, a cellmate decided to pick a fight with me while I was trying to sleep. The guy was a loudmouth and apparently thought I was "doing something funny" under my covers—which I wasn't—and he tried to rip the sheets off me. It was my last night there, so I didn't even fight back; it just wasn't worth prolonging my stay over something so pathetic.
Despite the drama, I’m enjoying the little things here, like the fountain near the Natchez Grand Hotel. I love that the town actually operates it instead of letting it become a relic of the past. My big plan now is my "Journey up North" fundraiser to get back to Ohio by springtime. I’ve been thinking it would be poetic to return the old-fashioned way—maybe as a stowaway on a coal barge heading up the Ohio River. For a hardcore environmentalist who hates coal, hitching a ride on a coal boat to Steubenville would be the ultimate irony.
Anyway, I’ve rambled enough for one evening. It’s been 30 minutes, and I’m reclaiming my time. Be good to yourselves, take care of yourselves, and take care of somebody else.
