How I Brought a Weapon, a Bomb and Terrorists Into the State Capitol

Sometimes I form ideas.

Entertaining an idea can be very dangerous.  It is not unlike entertaining a hungry pride of lions or a baby cousin. You have to be careful what direction your idea decides to go in.  At times, I think too fast and let my brains go to my head. 

Several years ago, I came up with this rather intoxicating idea to save the wetlands.  I learned at a young age that you can do anything that you set your mind to, except maybe be an astronaut,climb a mountain or change the world and a whole bunch of other stuff.

That one idea started to reproduce at an alarming rate.

I wrote a book about saving the wetlands.

I wrote a television pilot based on the book.

Went to Hollywood.  Met famous people.  Walked on the red carpet...

after the movie stars, paparazzi and cab drivers went in.

I was invited to appear on several major television shows, including Ellen DeGeneres and The Tonight Show.

My idea had morphed itself into an amalgamation of every dream I had ever had.

Don't get me wrong.  My fifteen minutes of fame was amazing and I will always treasure it, but ultimately decided to take my idea a step further.  I had an ephiphany, which is like an idea jacked up on a massive amount of steroids.

I decided that since the alligators were losing their wetland habitat due to coastal erosion that I would take one to live in my house (I couldn't leave an alligator outside...that is just dumb).  I got with the right people (yeah, I got people) and they granted me a license to have an alligator to bring to schools and functions and speak about coastal erosion.

I stoically became known as "The Alligator Lady."  It sounds way cooler when you say it outloud in a slow, deep, mesmarizing voice, not just reading it.  And, just in case anyone is wondering, it does hurt if you stick your finger in an alligator's mouth...just sayin'.

One day, I received a call completely out of the blue.  I was invited to the State Capitol to meet with the Governor for some publicity shots and simply had to fill out some documents naming the people who would be in my party,etc.  I recall that, but don't recall any  documentation about not bringing weapons.  That is something that they should send in the paperwork and make very clear upfront.

So, the big day arrived and I was very excited.  I brought my son and another child (professional actor/musician) who was in the book, the child's mom and myself.  Of course, I brought the alligator as he was the star and I knew the Governor would love him.

The child musician decided to bring in his accordion, which was in a big, black case.  He had played his accordion all the way up to the White House for the President, so it was nothing new to him.

We were a great sight.  A lot of people stared at us.  I am pretty sure they thought we were famous.

We arrived at the door, alligator and accordion in tow.  We met a grumpy man at the door in a security uniform.

He took my paperwork, looked it over and then whispered some sweet, secret whisperings into a handheld radio.  I don't know what he said but before I knew it there was either a swat team or poison control people searching us.

They proceeded to call a bomb squad because of the "bomb" the 10 year old musician was carrying and wouldn't let him open the case out of fear that it would explode.  They couldn't understand why we would be walking around carrying an accordion.   Why would we walk around carrying a bomb?

Apparently, alligators are weapons (exact words) and 10 year old boys holding a bomb and a weapon are terrorists.

Also, I was supposed to have listed the alligator on the documentation under "People in Party."

Don't get me wrong.  I am usually very proud to live in Louisiana.  We have the Saints and...Ok, that is all we have.  Texas is our sidekick, so that counts as something, but this was not one of those moments where I was real proud to say where I lived.  I pretended to be a tourist in handcuffs and did the "whistling walk-away" like I didn't know any of these people or alligators.

Eventually, contact was made to the Governor and I think she told everyone that they were nuts as she permitted us through and OK'd us (and the alligator) to come up to the upper floor.  We got our photos, after all.  I just can't leave the country...ever.

 I do have to mention this before I go:

And for the record, don't ever try telling an alligator your problems.  His advice is usually dumb and meat related.  

This is a video of one of my "terrorists" playing with Hank Williams, jr.