Bubba:
“Anyway, like I was sayin’, shrimp is the fruit of the sea. You can
barbecue it, boil it, broil it, bake it, saute it. Dey’s uh,
shrimp-kabobs, shrimp creole, shrimp gumbo. Pan fried, deep fried,
stir-fried. There’s pineapple shrimp, lemon shrimp, coconut shrimp,
pepper shrimp, shrimp soup, shrimp stew, shrimp salad, shrimp and
potatoes, shrimp burger, shrimp sandwich. That- that’s about it.”
Mykelti Williamson … Pvt. Benjamin Buford ‘Bubba’ Blue.
Big Oil has robbed us of so much, we’re not even close to realizing the true costs, it’s even reached into our shared cinematic memory. Treasured scenes are unwatchable, like the monologue above by Bubba Blue in Forrest Gump, while he and Forrest scrubbed floors with toothbrushes. This time-lapse sequence is priceless. It begins in one scene and carries on at absurd length, till Bubba finally runs out of recipes for ‘cookin’ shrimp. I love it.
Can I ever watch the movie’s bayou segment again without thinking, “Lt. Dan can’t jump in that water,” in the memorable scene in which Gary Senise finally comes to terms with his own tragic loss and in his way, thanks Gump for helping him get there. That’s not possible now; it’s gone – along with lives and livelihoods.
We’re back to an earlier, darker scene (like an inescapable Pottersville) in which Gary Senise, enraged by his loss, wrestles Gump to the hospital floor between their beds, and, after telling an uncomprehending Gump that he was supposed to die, he sits up (now a double amputee), refusing Gump’s aid and says, “Now, what am I gonna do?”
I think every shrimper, every widow, every oil-worker and every sea-loving bayou-dwelling person has asked themselves that same question. You watch…God forbid…Over the next few years as families self-destruct, and suicide rates spike along the Gulf Coast. It’ll be local news until someone spots a trend. And like the tide of veteran’s suicides outpacing the Gulf War’s fatalities last year, it will begin to exact its own toll. It’s enough to make anyone cry. In fact, it already has.
