The Sicard Goodbye, and other dangerous events

It is overcast and looks like it could rain. Patti is going to the doctor with Scott today so I am without a secretary. Cindy is at home. I have a hearing in Barnesville at 2:30. I need to speak with the solicitor about another case when I get down there. I really need to drive down to Worth County, but won't be able to until tomorrow because of my lack of support personnel. That is the black and white news for this morning.

I preliminarily ordered a king cake for Cindy. I will have to call the company in New Orleans to pay for it. For those of the uninitiated, a king cake is a mardi gras cake which are traditionally eaten during these months in Louisiana. It is basically an iced coffee cake, since the culture of New Orleans revolves around gatherings with coffee, cakes and cookies and other conversational gatherings.

They are real talkers in New Orleans. No doubt. Anytime I have tried to leave a gathering with my in-laws, whether in Louisiana or without, the scene goes like this:

1. The gathering, in which a lot of people attempt to talk at the same time for as long as possible. Inside a house this becomes a true cacophany. This gathering usually begins during daylight hours and proceeds through the evening into the early morning.

2. The time for the leaving, during which the members of the party acknowledge that it is time for them to leave. This time may actually arrive long after most people would, in fact, leave. Natives of New Orleans don't have a real problem with staying together with each other long into the night time and on into the wee hours of the morning. During this time, it is highly appropriate to refill glasses or have a cordial for the road. Although, perhaps not quite legal, once they get on the road.

3. The actual movement toward leaving, during which time the members of the party actually stand up from the table or the chairs and make motions as if to leave. This part of the leaving will take up to an hour, due to the fact that the conversations which were begun will continue until some resolution.

4. The second wind, usually occurring in the entrance hall of the house, in which everyone leaving stands around and begins talking about things which weren't discussed in the previous conversation. At a time when most folks would be winding down conversations, this usually appears as if the visitors just arrived, based on the fact that all of the conversations appear to be beginning rather than ending.

5. The false start, usually signaled by the fact that someone will actually open the door as if to leave. An open door means nothing other than the fact that the door is actually open. Considering the fact that Louisiana is generally warmer than most places in the Continental United States, this really means that the house will be now open to mosquito infestation, but perhaps to no greater degree than before the door was opened.

6. The exit, in which the occupants actually leave the residence and congregate in the front of the house. This is an opportunity for another conversation, often involving things which might be seen on the exterior of the home. Perhaps, the beauty of the moon, or the neighbors' virgin mary in a bathtub planted on their front lawn, or the next door neighbors' smell of cabrito coming from the barbecue of the weekend before, or perhaps the police are arresting someone on the street. It really doesn't matter and might involve something which could have come to mind in the house. Usually if the police are involved, there was the use of alcohol at some point during the evening. Actually, if there is no alcohol involved in the evening, you are probably not in Louisiana.

7. The crisis, in which someone in the party who is not from Louisiana wonders if these conversations will actually end. Generally, at this time, someone who married into the family will attempt to take control of the leaving and force the issue. This may result in divorce, police arrests or being dragged behind a boat down the nearest bayou.

8. The finale, in which one of the male members of the family will open the door to his car, turn to his spouse, and say, "Get in the car, _________." With this, most of the male members of the party will enter their vehicles and the female members will re-enter the house to use the facilities one more time before they leave. This may result in a second leaving, in which the whole process may start all over again.

The leaving of such a party in Louisiana is dangerous for all, but particularly for the poor designated driver, who was named as such, not because he is sober, but because he owns the car. As he leaves the party, if he isn't related by blood or marriage to the deputy sheriffs between the party and his residence, he might end up in the county jail. This may account for the reason why most people from Louisiana seem to party with family in their own neighborhoods. Better to be stopped by a cousin or brother, than someone from another state or parish who is less understanding.

My best advice for those of us who have married into such a family and find ourselves in such a predicament: realize that nothing you do is going to change the in-laws. You might as well sit back, relax and enjoy the ride. Never let yourself be named as the designated driver unless you really want to be the tea-totaler for the evening. In that case, you will definitely miss the party. Its fun. Don't worry.