The Oil City Outlaws

I was driving down to Mobile the other day, and as usual once I was on the road good my mind went on autopilot and started free ranging inside itself.  A song came on the radio and my ears automatically picked it up and my brain ran in a different direction.  I was suddenly back in Oil City sitting on the banks of Caddo Lake hearing, seeing and smelling a way of life that is uniquely Southern.  Let me take a moment to explain.

A typical Southern Saturday on the lake went down like this.  I would ease out onto the lake for some early morning fishing.  After allowing the sun and the water to awaken me, I would head back in to see what was cooking for the day.  Now I have a very eclectic group of friends there.  I took to calling my circle the Oil City Outlaws after a comment my mother made one day, but I'll relate that story another time.  Invariably the plans of the day led to us all convening later in the day for an eating.  You see here in the South whenever a group of people get together there has to be food involved.  I think it was written into the bylaws of the Southern Tradition Handbook somewhere.  It's not just relegated to social events.  The tradition is found recognized by church functions, work holidays and even upon the death of someone.  There is always food. 


Once the menu had been approved by all (it was usually a fish fry or shrimp boil), preparations started.  There was fish (most always having been caught and donated by a member of the Oil City Outlaws) or shrimp (having been bought at the seafood market) to be battered or cleaned.  And of course potatoes, corn, sausage, and beverages.  Oh, and usually a cake or pie made from scratch by one of the wives or girlfriends.  You know how we Southern folk eat! 


Everyone would convene at the lake house and then fun started.  As the food was being prepared (Thank you, Captain Jack and Teddy) the pre-meal beverages (Thank you, Jayci) were served.  Rum drinks, bourbon drinks, and cold beer all around please!  In the background Buffett, Marley, Hank Jr., and Willie would preform for us.  There might have even been some spontaneous dancing here and there.  After everyone had a full belly and as the sun began to set and the moon showed its shy face, the celebration of our Southern lives began in earnest.  Now I can't go into detail about a lot of things that occurred, at least not until the Statute of Limitations runs out, but let's just say there were Turkey Walks in the kitchen (Thank you, Kevin), screen doors being made where there were none (Thank you, Teke), and partial truths and half fictions being told and retold (Thank you, Brent and Missy and Clint Paul and Cheryl), and of course lots of bad jokes and fun poking at each other.


As the night worn on and our bodies wore out, slowly people would drift back to their homes.  Full of the day and grateful for the fellowship,  there would be plans laid for the next convening of the Oil City Outlaws.  And if you listened real close to the night sounds, you could hear the voice of the South whispering goodnight and the waters of Caddo Lake singing everyone to sleep.



- JD