Showing posts with label swamps. Show all posts
Showing posts with label swamps. Show all posts

Sunday, June 20, 2021

A “Moss” Peculiar Man

Growing up, I spent a few years in a town called Lake Charles in Louisiana. Peppering the wetland surface were chimney-like holes in the ground about two to three feet-deep. These holes were built and inhabited by crawfish, small ubiquitous crustaceans also known as ‘crawdads’ or ‘crawdaddies.’

Given the rural surroundings and relatively laid-back lifestyle that went with the region, there wasn’t much in the way of recognizable or high-profile superheroes to admire like Superman, Batman, Green Lantern, Thor, Wonder Woman or Spider-Man.

Instead, the Bayou Country boasted a lesser-celebrated but equally impressive crime-fighter whose civilian name was Mr. Bonin. Bonin worked as a local fisherman who called upon his special powers when found in a particular jam or pickle. The danger-seeking Cajun didn’t save the day without a key ingredient, however.

That’s where the moss came into play, Spanish moss- to be exact. A handful of the stuff and Bonin proceeded to chant his mantra:

“Spanish moss in my hands, turn me into Crawfish-Man!”

Yes, that’s right; he transmogrified into a muscular and scaly biped lobster-looking being complete with red claws and antennae. He righted wrongs, fought evil and, at some point hopefully, transformed back. I recall a story where then-President Carter somehow became trapped atop the Statue of Liberty’s torch and was duly rescued by Crawfish-Man. Perhaps he’s out there right now preventing the current leader of the free world from dropping an ice cream cone or forgetting his aviators at a roadside rest stop.

Indeed we owe a debt of gratitude to the local superheroes, especially the unsung or forgotten ones. As we recover from the Covid-19 crisis, it might be a nice gesture to thank anyone who helped us through, especially the ones we call ‘front line workers.’ Like the mighty yet humble crusader of the Cajun swamp, they’ll no doubt be pleased to receive your appreciation. Gratitude, like the Spanish moss, goes a long way.

Contact Chris:

Name:

Email:

Comment:

     
Christopher Robinson