The Joy Quotient-Intro

We were in Taos with the family after the shocking loss of our beloved Andrea, thirty-nine years old. She went to bed with a headache and never woke up.  She left two young daughters, Indie, 3 and Bella, about to turn 12.

The whole family had driven caravan-style to Taos where I had rented a friend's mountain house for the Christmas holidays.  I had arranged this trip months before, not imagining that it would be our house of mourning.  We did not buy presents but made things and wrote songs and poems for each other.  We were so sad but the glue of our family thickened that year.

Two weeks later I arrived home in Austin to find a voice message from Jean Pierre, " I know it's a terrible time, but you have been approved to be a part of the crew in New Orleans. You should consider going. It will be good for you." A famous eccentric game company owner has an elite invitation-only crew/party every Mardi Gras.  The float is a full blown authentic pirate ship. The Saints would do their Super Bowl winning year parade in this ship.  It was only two years after Katrina.  There was need for a bigger party all around. The week's events would be held at a private hotel, all expenses paid for a week, five-star restaurants, costumes, you just had to get yourself there. I remember saying to myself, " Well, I do need to up my joy quotient."

The Joy Quotient, the formula by which joy is derived from a combination of things or events that would not normally result in joy. It's alchemy, transmutation, voodoo. Open yourself up to it and something is sure to happen, but you can never know what. The plane to New Orleans was 3 hours late leaving Austin.  They got us to Houston where they announced that the storm had cause such a massive cancellation of flights, that there would be no seats getting to New Orleans for at least two days. Five complete strangers decided to take matters into their own hands.  We headed down to the limo rental area discussing the pooling of funds as we walked.  We each threw down $100 and we were off in a SUV Limo in less than an hour.  The rains in Houston can be debilitating, for sure.  But I was a native and I knew your best bet was to drive real fast out of there if you could beat the storm going in the opposite direction. The Limo driver followed our directions to drive on through the rains toward New Orleans.  Our first stop around Port Arthur was a liquor store. The band of strangers each got their snacks and drinks and we drove east, Mardi Gras or bust!  The young girls in the back seat were texting their weekend hook-ups while popping Ridalin.  The guys in the front were downing their fifths of Jack Daniels as fast as they could swallow. I neither drank nor imbibed. I was slightly freaked out about the strangeness unfolding.

The driver wasn't taking shots so I relaxed a bit until I realized I had lost cell service somewhere around Orange, Texas.  Maybe it was the storm but I never was able to connect by phone with anyone for the next 7 days. This time would be out of time itself like a dream. The Voodoo began. 

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