Buried among the junk mail I found a note from a long time pal and fellow engineer, the last person I would have expected to venture near Lafayette, but his note said he would be driving through on his way back home from somewhere out west. His note was signed “Chucky D”, his own choice of a nickname. His real name is Charles Lanier D – wait, before trying to say his last name try the following: bough, cough, dough, tough, through. Strangely, none of these words rhyme with another nor with any part of his name. Now say “proof” and then his name, Doughman. His wife called him Lanier as did his mother. A few fellow workers got it right and called him Doughman, but to everyone else he was Charlie. So Charlie is coming to town; we must have lunch together.

It will be great to see Charlie again. I wonder if his appetite is as good as ever. I know we can’t find a pizza as good as we used to have at Beer Barrel Pizza, but we’ll find something good. Charlie is a few years younger than I and he admired me as a family man. I think I was a minor role model to him and he wished to raise a family such as mine. We worked on similar projects and helped each other where needed. Charlie was better than I at math and I appreciated his help with some of my problems, especially those involving differential equations.

A slowdown in our workload occurred in 1984. A division of the company that did work for the Navy at Annapolis, Maryland had plenty of work. Charlie and I were among those selected to go on an assignment to Maryland. Charlie went a few weeks before I followed. He had rented an apartment on the eastern shore across the Chesapeake Bay. I joined him there and we were house buddies during our stay. Each morning we traveled across the long bay bridge to work and back at night. We found lots of good places to have our meals. One favorite place served a meal of oysters in four different styles. One night after an early start we went to a restaurant where we ordered the “all you can eat” blue point crab special. The crabs were served in the shell and we spent a lot of time learning to get the meat out of the shell. Even after learning the technique it was slow going. We had two huge platters of crabs. When we finished the second it was almost bedtime and I was still hungry, but they were really good.

We went home on alternate weekends. On our non-travel weekends we frequently drove to the nearest Metro station and took the train on in to Washington to visit the museums and such. One time we were there for the cherry blossoms. A walk amongst those flowering trees is a walk in another world.

We were on the special assignment for half a year before we went back home to resume our regular jobs. During that time Charlie and I became better acquainted of course. Charlie was widowed a few years later, and after he retired got reacquainted with his high school sweetheart. They were married and live in her house on Long Island, N Y. The last I heard, he was working on the house with the idea of selling it.

It will be a pleasure and a privilege to have lunch with Charlie. While we enjoy some famous Louisiana food we’ll catch up on each other’s lives since we last talked. He’ll fill me in on the status of his house renovation and what he plans to do after that. I’ll learn about his kids, including the son who stayed in Lima and lives in the house where he grew up. I’ll ask him how he likes his second wife’s family. Naturally he’ll want to know how my family and I are faring and I’ll do my best to tell him.

The main question I have for Charlie is why in the world is he driving across the country alone. But wait. He didn’t say he was alone. I have not met his new wife. Maybe this will be a doubly pleasant lunch experience.