Day 4: Big Lou

The road to breakfast

I was reminded today of a joke I heard from my best friend in college, Joe Caffrey. Rather than try to dredge up a half remembered mishmash, I went straight to the source. In the words and Manhattan accent of my old friend Joe (with some edits for punctuation):

A man (I'll call him Mike - Ivan) is drinking alone in a crowded bar, when suddenly the door pops open and in steps a well-dressed man, who says "Hello, everybody!" The entire crowd except for Mike turns and says, "Hi, Big Lou!" Big Lou sees Mike, who didn't say hello, and sits beside him.

"Hi, friend," he says, "I'm Big Lou, and now that I know you, I know everybody." Mike looks at him and says, "Get lost. Nobody knows everybody." Big Lou says, "I do. I know everybody. Who do you want to meet?" Mike says, "Do you know the Mayor?"

And so, to make a long story a bit shorter, Big Lou takes Mike to see, each in turn, the Mayor, and then the Governor, and then the President. Each time, Mike counters lamely, "Ok, maybe you do know..." etc.

Then, after meeting the President, while in the DC airport, Mike is still not convinced, and Big Lou asks him, "Ok, who do I have to take you to, to convince you that I know everyone?" Mike looks up and sees a travel poster of the Vatican and says, "Do you know the Pope?"

Big Lou flies him to Rome, and it so happens that it is Thursday, the day when the Pope addresses the crowd in St. Peter's Square. Big Lou takes Mike to the edge of the crowd and says, "Look... you wait here, I'll make my way through the crowd, and in ten minutes I'll come out on that balcony with the Pope."

Ten minutes later, Big Lou appears on the balcony, arm in arm with the Pope; and he looks out into the crowd and sees that Mike has fainted. He makes his excuses to the Pope and rejoins Mike, who by this time is revived.

"What happened?" Big Lou asks. "Why did you faint, because I know the Pope?"

"No," says Mike, "because the guy next to me said, "Who's that with Big Lou?"

This joke came to mind because, during breakfast at a randomly chosen diner, several miles from Rockport, four days ride from home, a friend of mine walked in the door. It was Roselie Rasmussen, a girl with whom I went to massage school in 2003-04. I knew that Roselie was raised in Darrington, through which we passed just yesterday, but I hadn't seen her in several years, and the last time I heard from her she was stationed at the South Pole (not a joke)...

Roselie entered with her parents, whom I'd met before, and her guy Tom, whom I hadn't. They joined us at table, and we had a nice time catching up. Roselie's dad, an energetic character, is a local chiropractor. I forget her mom's calling, but I know that she's heavily involved with Darrington politics. Tom had useful advice about our next day's ride. And Roselie was just as I remembered her - a quiet, friendly, shy girl, with a passionate interest in her world.