When I turned 18 I decided to leave the tiny mid-western hamlet I had called home since I was 7. I packed up my drum set, my last $36 and what clothing I owned. I took a plane to New Orleans and started life as an adult.
Fortunately my brother Ray was there to help me as I learned how to deal with life in the "Big City".
My first goal was to get a job, I beat the pavement in the only suit I owned, I went to every fast food joint and restaurant I could find. I landed a job at Chi Chi's in Kenner and a second job selling siding for Johny Campiano.
Chi Chi's was your basic table waiting job, the job selling siding confused me a bit. I was was given a 
brand new Black Trans Am to drive, I went to several small towns with a guy named Mark Long. Mark was a life-long friend of my brother Ray and they had done some rather questionable things in the 70's. While I was beating on doors of shanty's and shacks on stilts Mark was taking care of some other business.
I never made a single sale but Mark always wanted to go back to the same towns in northern Lousianna and southern Mississippi.
One time I had a sale, Oh My God, this was a hot lead. This southern Mississippi family wanted to put vinyl siding on there home. As a young inexperienced salesman I followed the book.
"Do you have any credit history"? We been rentin' that there frig. for nigh on 8 years now, the homeowner told me.
"Great" I said, I figured at least they had good credit!
As I peered through the gaps in the floor boards to the swamp below, I wondered how vinyl siding was going to improve their energy efficiency.
They filled out the application and I stuffed it in my briefcase.
We returned the following week, the whole family came out to greet us, they ran their hands over the Trans Am and stated, "That looks just like that one in the 
picture show"! Understanding they were referring to Smokey and the Bandit, I nodded in agreement.
I moved in for the down payment speech! Well sir, the siding estimate is $xxx.xx and we will require a down payment of $XXX.XX. The response was something I had never imagined.
The homeowner informed me it was about time his 16 year old daughter found herself a man, a city fella that could provide for her.
He had no money but he could offer his daughter as collateral!
Mark and I slipped away in the conspicuous black Trans Am. On the way back to New Orleans I inquired what he was doing while I was knocking on doors.
I never did get a real answer.........
I wonder what Johnie Campiano was really paying us to do in those small bayou towns?
The last I heard Mark Long was in North Carolina, I would love to meet up with him again and catch up on old times. I've tried to find him but Mark Long is a very common name.
Ben Edsall
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