The Middle of Somewhere September 5, 2010Posted by Mark Folse in Toulouse Street.
I thought I had something more clever to say than “I’ve been there” but I guess I don’t. You take a right if you’re on your way to drop your child at International Band Camp.
When we lived in Detroit Lakes, MN there was a navy recruiter who would set up his table in the tiny shopping mall there. There was some reason for a lot of tables to be there, people with sports cards, the Girls Scouts and Boy Scouts selling something, I don’t recall the occasion. I just remember talking to him while my son poured through a box of Pokemon cards. Isn’t this about as far from the ocean as a Navy man could possibly be (unless, of course, he were in the Russian Navy).
He laughed and explained that they get a lot of recruits from people in places like this, kids who want to get as far away as they can and see the world, young men and women who might have seen Lake Superior but have never seen the sea. I thought about that as we walked out into the parking lot, filled with sea gulls that lake hop all the way from the Atlantic, across the Great Lakes, then through the famous 10,000 lakes. I wondered at the time if seagulls migrated but I don’t think I ever got the answer. I just found their presence comforting, an Orleanian and sometime beach bum stranded as far as I could possibly be in North America.