On hitchhiking

Southern folk won’t stop asking me about my mother.

‘Does yer momma know where you are, boy?’ ‘Ain’t yo momma scared for you?’ ‘Oh Lord, I’m gonna be praying for both you and your momma tonight!’

So many people just refuse to believe that most drivers are friendly, curious, and supremely entertaining.

When I told Ivonne about my travels after last Sunday’s rousing service at New Orleans’ Firehouse Full Gospel Ministries, she wrapped her arms around me and belted a prayer into my ear.

When Sharie learned of my adventure outside a crawfish shack in Lafayette, La., she gasped and promptly gave me an address where I could buy a taser for $25. Apparently they can do more damage than my pocketknife.

But I haven’t had a bad ride yet.

There’s a special energy to every ride. I think it’s because major social barriers get squashed the moment the driver chooses to pull over onto the shoulder – two strangers both readily approach an unknown situation, but excitedly prepare for a brand new experience.

I love the feeling of anticipation while approaching a car. What will this driver look like? How far will I get? Where in the world will this conversation going to go?

Conversation flows quickly and runs deep – so many drivers have shared remarkably personal stories with me after mere hours together. I like presuming it’s because I’m a really cool guy but it’s probably thanks to the immediately intimate atmosphere that dominates these inspiring, yet fleeting, encounters.

Daiva bought me a coffee before finding me a place to stay in Asheville. Robert called me up to check on me. Pam and Jeannine gave me Thanksgiving dinner in their pickup truck. Billy Joe fed and hosted me for two nights. Tiwana and Anita bought me lunch at Taco Bell.

I had no idea what to expect before I started thumbing it, simply planning to figure it out along the way. But after about a month, I’m hooked.

I’ve spent countless hours on the highway shoulder cursing each passing car that doesn’t stop to pick me up. But I invariably close out the day with a renewed appreciation for the kindness, decency, and compassion of total strangers.

Momma ain’t got nothin’ to worry about.