So, did you hear they found a cure for cancer? This isn’t the start of a bad joke. This is actually real. But if it were the start of a bad joke, I’d say: “Yeah, you can cure it by having sex with a virgin who has cancer.” ZING!

Anyhow, Americorps is going pretty well. There are certainly bumps in the road, but the ride is smooth enough to manage. My team, but for a few exceptionally awesome people, is very definitely the Melvin team with the Melvin team leader for whom I harbor some underlying static.

You see, because she sleeps in the same room with the other girls and therefore spends almost all her time with them, she gets a disproportionate amount of feedback from them about various things one of which is my juvenile sense of humor. I guess I made an abortion joke too many and now I have to write a five page essay on Women’s Rights. Luckily I’ve found a way to subtly carry out retribution by deliberately working it in the shower before her turn. Heh heh

In all honesty though, I’m having a really good time. The work is fulfilling and I’m never short of intriguing things to do. The program is ten months long which is spent doing four different projects, or what are called “spikes” and right now, I’m about halfway through my second spike. During my first spike, we were in Lake Charles, Louisiana doing door to door needs assessments.

Lake Charles was devastated by Hurricane Rita and unfortunately overshadowed by Katrina’s infamy. So, even two years after the fact, throngs of people are still stuck in the storm

One question we asked while assessing was, “What was the most important thing you lost in the disaster?” We posed the question to a man taken upon hard times. After a moment of silence he choked “my mind.”

The storms of fall 2005 were as much psychological hurricanes as anything else. As much damage as there was to people’s homes and possessions, the real assault was to the minds of those affected, and while many recovered with little more than bruised memories, most we encountered were lost for direction and grasping frantically for hope.

I don’t mean to talk about it as if I’ve just suddenly uncovered the fact that there’s this whole block of society that’s living on ravaged dreams. That was no surprise. What was remarkable was how startling my exposure to it was.

No amount of Anderson Cooper’s hurricane coverage would have made me understand from my suburban vantage point. However, the cock fight I went to see in Lake Charles is what shitty journalism was made for.

Louisiana is the last state in the Union to allow cockfights. Even so, if it wasn’t for the free admission and promised beer, I wouldn’t have gone.

I would say the first thirty seconds of a match are pretty cool. The birds flutter around impressively and scratch at each other. But it turns very quickly into one or both of the birds with their heads dragging on the ground, clinging to life, while they desperately try to assert domination over the other. Pretty fucken gross.

After about 9 fights, we decided we’d had enough and relocated to B dubs. We had wings spiced with irony and spicy garlic. As we were eating, I said to my good-humored friend Mike, “Mike that was great. I mean normally to see a cock that bloody I’d have to bang your mom on her period.” And that’s how I won the award for best cockfight joke.

We’re on our second spike now in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, right on the LSU campus. We work with Habitat for Humanity, and building houses kicks ass. Our project sponsors are pretty much all in our age range and chill. It’s nice to have people who love immature caulking jokes as much as I do.

Anyhow I’ve learned how to swing a hammer without looking like a pussy. In fact working at Habitat plus the exercise I do after work has definitely got me in better shape.
I’ll tell you though, what little shame I had before beginning this program has been all but dispensed with. I find myself not caring about appearances to the point where I’ve coined a new style of dress: a button down shirt with dress pants. I call it the dress-mullet: Party in the pants, business in the shirt. Hello Ameriwhorps.

I’d have to say the first half has gone pretty good. I hope the second half is a good. Ill keep you posted.