The traditional gift is china, or diamonds, but we opted for foam. Let me back up. Twenty years ago, my mom and dad bought a…
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The traditional gift is china, or diamonds, but we opted for foam. Let me back up. Twenty years ago, my mom and dad bought a…
On the Friday before the equinox, I caught a ride with Daniel Samuels up to the Old Governor’s Mansion in Baton Rouge. It was built…
Friends, A nonprofit I helped found, the Friends of Lafitte Corridor, has a shot at $10,000. Here’s how: You have to vote for me. FOLC…
I rented a car and drove west. All by myself. I drove and drove and drove until I got to Austin, Texas. And I thought…
Isaac is gone, but his odor lingers on. Seriously. There’s a smell in the air, a certain peculiar smell I can’t describe. I’m not sensitive…
It wasn’t until after Labor Day that I passed by the bayou and saw what Isaac had done to my favorite tree. This is the…
I’ve also been reflecting on our decision to stay in place for Isaac. Was it the right choice? There’s room for disagreement even in our…
Persephone and I took a photo of Xy raking up the “street salad” left behind by Hurricane Isaac. Then we drew our own interpretation based…
We lost electrical service to our house for 98 hours. That’s just over four days. And during these four days I discovered something odd. I…
After four days in the dark, our porch light’s back on in Mid-City.
So remember how I said we were heading out — buggin’ — evacuating?
That didn’t happen.
We were planning to go, but the hurricane parties here were just too good to resist.
Actually the real reason is that our anticipated path was looking worse and worse for a return drive. Of course we could have gone west, or east, but straight north was where we wanted to go, and that wasn’t looking very smart. Personally I was inclined to stay here anyhow. Xy was vacillating, changing her mind every twenty minutes or so. Realizing we’d need to drive back through the storm to return home sealed the decision.
We had a wonderful Lammas. It has emerged as probably my favorite holiday, which is kind of funny considering I never heard of it until…
Dear Persephone, You are four and half years old today. We have continued our tradition, now well-established, of giving away stuff for your half-birthday. This…
When I got back to New Orleans, I noticed the “Save the Picayune” signs and tee-shirts around town.
With all respect to the good intentions behind this campaign, I feel it’s the wrong approach.
Let me explain why. This could take a minute.
It’s inevitable when visiting some other place to compare it to home, especially if that other place is your former home. I lived in Bloomington for thirteen years, and I’ve now lived in New Orleans for thirteen years, so I can’t resist a few elementary observations.
I was headed to Bloomington anyhow. I’d been planning an extended Indiana vacation to visit family this summer. I like having an 800-mile buffer zone, but even I have guilt feelings which must be assuaged at least once a year. Aside from family, the first person I planned to look up in Bloomington was my friend and collaborator Lee. He’d been working for years on a multi-volume DVD set of the first season of ROX. He was very close to getting this monstrous effort wrapped up, and I wanted to give him every bit of encouragement and support I could muster. And maybe, just maybe, I wanted to give him that little nudge that’s so often needed to wrap up a long-term endeavor. I know the value of deadlines. Not that Lee needs nudged.
And so then on March 8, I sent Lee an innocuous little e-mail message.
Probably the biggest surprise for me on this vacation was just how prosperous Bloomington seemed. (More on that later.) If I had any doubts on this front, they were laid to rest by my visit to The Rail.
Contemporary craft cocktails and tapas — in Bloomington? I was impressed. And I was even more impressed when it came out that our bartender, Colin Boilini, had won a contest with Tales of the Cocktail. They’ll be bringing him down here to New Orleans next week.
Naturally we commanded Mr. Boilini to prepare for us his award-winning cocktail — which he did.
Dear Persephone, You are fifty-three months old today. Yesterday, technically, but cut me some slack. After our long summer vacation, I finally understand what people…
We took a break from Bloomington and made a side trip to visit my family.
When we arrived at my parents’ house, I was alarmed to discover my father lying on the floor in the kitchen. My folks aren’t getting any younger. Was this a medical emergency?
Since I don’t get back to Bloomington often, I made a point of getting together with folks.