Pictures of New Orleans

Ok, I lied. The snow wasn't that bad, so I went to Adoration and now am at Rich's house, putting my photos on my blog. First, here is a photo of the church where Travalon and I went to Mass, St. Louis Cathedral, and some interior shots:

Copy of a Bible owned by St. Louis.

Here is a shot showing the typical architecture in the French Quarter:

Here is a shot of the harbor with three boats: from left to right, a steamboat, the free ferry to Algiers on the other side of the river, and a cruise ship.

Here is a house in the Garden District with lights in Mardi Gras colors and beads in the trees:

Flowers were blooming down there while you had to contend with snow up here:

Here are some shots from the plantation we visited, Oak Alley:

Slave quarters. Each small house had two families living in it.

The Oak Alley

The plantation house

The 300-year-old oak trees had amazing root systems.

Because 10 MPH would just be way too fast.

Here are some shots of our swamp tour:

Pelican

Alligator

Bayou

Alligator

People do stay in this shack

Spanish moss on a tree

Our guide found this piece of wood like this, except for the teeth he added

Famous Hat meets Alligator

Anyone know what this big bug is?

Here are some photos from our steamboat cruise:

Jackson Brewery complex, now shops and restaurants

A very affirming building.

Plantation house on the site of the Battle of New Orleans

Here are some photos from Kiln, Mississippi, which is Brett Favre's hometown. They are at the Broke Spoke, the bar owned by his brother.

This one's for Hardingfele.

Here are some shots from our trip to Grand Isle:

Houses on stilts.

Random Marian shrine

Really cool boat

And back to New Orleans for some more photos:

A steamboat

This sign explains everything.

Flooded streets in the French Quarter after a storm.

What they think of the one way signs in the French Quarter

Man with giant saxophone at Maison.

A spotted cat at The Spotted Cat

And finally, if the pictures aren't enough to convince you to go to New Orleans, here is a little taste of the jazz at The Spotted Cat:

A 

Famous Hat

New Orleans Post #2

I forgot to mention in my previous post that it was raining really hard on Sunday night, so hard that Bourbon Street got flooded... and yet someone had sprinklers going on a bit of green space on Decatur. Was the grass really not getting enough water? If you hate water, Louisiana is not the state for you. The place is one big swamp.

Monday Travalon and I went to a plantation called Oak Alley, because someone back in the 18th century planted a double row of oak trees (28 in all) stretching down to the Mississippi River. Then in the 19th century a rich Creole built his plantation house at the end of the double row of trees. It was a beautiful plantation, and they are restoring the slaves' quarters so we can see how the slaves had to live. Then we went on a swamp tour called Cajun Pride, which was awesome. Our guide was a real Cajun who could spot snakes and alligators that we could barely see after he pointed them out. He even had a baby alligator with its mouth taped shut that he let us hold.A young pelican swam right by our boat, so I got a great shot of it that I will post at some point. A storm started brewing so we got off the bayou just in time; our tour could have gotten a lot more exciting, being on a metal boat with lightning flashing around us. Then Travalon and I drove to Biloxi, Mississippi and went to some casinos: Beau Rivage, which has a great Cajun/Creole buffet; the Hard Rock Cafe, which has lots of rock memorabilia; and Margaritaville, where they play Jimmy Buffett music all the time, and the theme is very tropical. I liked that one best, since it was not very crowded (being brand new) and so was quieter and less smoky. Plus I won $11 and some change on $1, and the bartender gave us free drinks. So that's the lucky casino, if you find yourself in Biloxi.

Yesterday we drove down to the bottom of the state, to a place called Grand Isle where all the houses are on stilts. It was a really chill place, and we got some genuine Cajun food down there, but by the time we found a guy who charters a fishing boat, it was too late to start out. We just took a walk by the beach instead. The highway to Grand Isle goes along a river, and we saw lots of shrimp boats on the way up and back. In the evening we returned to the French Quarter of New Orleans and got daiquiris, which are a big thing around here. We went to Preservation Hall, but there were so many people waiting in line to get in that we decided to go to Frenchmen Street instead, where we had dinner at a restaurant called the Praline Connection: we split a "soul food" platter with barbecued ribs, fried chicken, gumbo, jambalaya, gumbo, crawfish etouffe, greens, red beans and rice, and for dessert bread pudding with pieces of praline crumbled on top. I have no idea how one person could eat all that! Two of us could not quite finish the bread pudding. Then we went to the Spotted Cat and heard a couple of bands. There was a guy in the first band who had also been in the band at Fritzl's on Friday night and the band at Maison on Saturday night, so we figured he must play somewhere in the city every night of the week.

This was the first time I'd been in New Orleans with a car, and a word of warning to anyone planning to drive here: lots of roads are one way, and even the ones that aren't often don't allow left turns to be made onto them for reasons we could not understand. Figuring out how to get around town is a bit of a challenge, and of course parking in the French Quarter is not cheap. So that's what you can expect if you have a car in this city.

Famous Hat

New Orleans Post #1

I have been so busy running around this city with Travalon that I haven't had a chance to blog until now, which is almost midnight on Sunday. The train ride to New Orleans was eventful, just like last time; this time, there was a freight train that derailed just outside of Jackson, Mississippi so we had to take a detour to Hattiesburg, Mississippi and approach the Big Easy from that direction. This only added an hour to our travel time, but by then the rental car place had closed. Fortunately some other people on the train had been calling them, so they knew we were coming and opened just for the people who were on the train. That night we went to Fritzl's, a jazz club on Bourbon Street.

Yesterday we went to the State Museum of Louisiana and to the National WWII museum, which for some reason had an NFL display going on. Travalon loved the 1940's style soda shop, which was very cool, and I had some red velvet ice cream there. Travalon is a big WWII buff and took photos of tons of things at both museums. Then we rode the streetcar through the Garden District, where one house had lights in Mardi Gras colors. We went to Frenchmen Street, where there are a lot of jazz clubs, and had dinner at Snug Harbor. The Spotted Cat was way too crowded to get into so we went to a place called Maison which had an excellent band called the New Orleans Smoking Section or something like that. One guy was playing the biggest saxophone I'd ever seen. (I got photos of some of these things and will be posting them later.) We were told there was a bar on Rampart Street that made gin fizzes, but the one we went to did not, plus it was a gay bar so they looked at us very strangely. You would not believe how hard it is to find a gin fizz, which is supposed to be an iconic New Orleans drink, in New Orleans.

Today we went to Mass at the historic St. Louis Cathedral, which is the oldest cathedral in the US. Then we took a riverboat cruise to the site of the battle of New Orleans from the War of 1812. It was cold today, but not as cold as y'all are. (Yes, they do say "y'all" down here all the time.) We finally were able to get into Cafe du Monde for some coffee and beignets. Then we found a bar from 1856 (the same year as my parish) called Tujague's that made gin fizzes, so if you want one, that's the place to go. It's on Decatur Street. So I had my gin fizz fix, plus plenty of Abita beer, both the raspberry (Purple Haze) and the strawberry. We went to Jean Lafitte's Blacksmith, the oldest bar in the US, from 1773 or so, we can't remember at this hour of the night. (Travalon is helping me write this post.) Then we went to the Hard Rock Cafe and finally Preservation Hall for some real N'Awlins jazz. Now I really want to learn to play the trombone, besides the fact that then I could play the sackbut. So it was a great New Orleans day of food (I had jamabalaya, gumbo, catfish, shrimp, etouffe, and oysters), drink, and music!! I LOVE New Orleans!

Famous Hat

Brass for Your... Donkey

My blogging may be sporadic for the next week, while I am down in New Orleans with Travalon. As my longtime readers may remember, the entire reason I started a blog was because Banjo Player said I should when I was telling her all about my previous trip to the Big Easy, so that was the topic of my very second post. Now, 1031 posts and tens of dollars later, I am going back, so watch this space for possible updates during my sojourn and a complete recounting when I return.

For some reason Toque McToque and I got on the topic of smoking. I said I had never liked it much but found menthol cigarettes more pleasant; however, the other kids back in the day considered them wussy for some reason. She said, “They are more popular with the poor and minorities, maybe that’s why people poop-pooped them?” I said that typo fit too well with yesterday’s blog post subject, so I was going to have to blog about it.

Today Light Bright said, “I didn’t think I could control myself, but I can!” She was talking about getting stressed out and taking control of her emotions, but I said I was going to quote her out of context.  Then, on second thought, I decided to reveal the context after the quote so you could enjoy it more fully. We are listening to the New Orleans station, and I said, “A little brass for your-“ “Ass?” she filled in. I said, “I was going to say ‘For your listening pleasure,’ but yours is catchier.”

Famous Hat

The Saints Went Marching In!

Here are some pictures I took with my new digital camera. The first one is a self-portrait, in a sense: I am both a Goat in the Western zodiac and a Pig (in fact, an Iron Pig) in the Eastern zodiac. So here my Eastern and Western aspects are being illustrated in plushy fashion in front of a mirror. (That's me being "artistic.")

Figure 1: Famous Hat: East and West

Here is a self-portrait taken in the mirror after the Saints won the Super Bowl. Note the fleur-de-lis on my health food store hat and the actual Mardi Gras beads from New Orleans.

Figure 2: Who Dat?

This is a picture of Nola my papyrus from New Orleans celebrating the Saints' win by wearing my Mardi Gras beads. (No plants were harmed in the making of this photo.)

Figure 3: Nola says yeah! Saints win!!

And here are my little New Orleans dolls celebrating. The voodoo doll on the left is one I got during my trip to New Orleans and the Cajun Fiddler is something my parents brought back from New Orleans when they visited several years earlier.

Figure 4: Mr. and Mrs. New Orleans

Famous Hat

A Dark and Stormy Night in the 'Hood

On a dark and stormy night, two chicks drove deep into the 'hood. A-Fooze and I had spent the early evening dancing on the roof to salsa music until we could barely walk: we danced to merengue, bomba, guaguanco, bachata, and cumbia... but if you think I know how to actually do all those dances, I must admit I was just kind of moving to the music. We stopped by A-Fooze's place briefly, and when we left it was suddenly storming so we had to run to my car at Our Lady of Perpetual Sobriety, then we drove to a hookah club in the 'hood to meet some of my bandmates. We didn't see any of them, but I did see another friend of mine who told me the belly dancing style was "tribal fusion." The dancer had different props, like a fan, a sword, and flaming things on her fingers that (this was my favorite part of the show) set off the fire alarm. Everyone panicked that the sprinklers would go off, but A-Fooze and I just shrugged since we were already soaked from the storm. When the waitress asked what we thought of the belly dancer, I replied that this was my first time seeing tribal fusion. Later A-Fooze was saying that she loved how I used that phrase like I had any idea what I was talking about, and I said, "Better yet, I didn't even have to give an opinion of the show!"

That was Friday night. Thursday night at Messiah practice I got the best news I'd heard since learning that reggaeton is on the way out: we will be performing with a harpsichord! And NOBODY tunes harpsichords to equal temperament, so it looks like we will be spared that public humiliation at the fronds of my dracaena. Afterwards a bunch of us went to a swanky hotel for drinks, but when I ordered a gin fizz, the waiter said, "They can't make a proper one here. Trust me, I'm from New Orleans!" I believed him, because - other than reggaeton - very little is worse than getting a drink called a "gin fizz" which bears no resemblance to the actual Gin Fizz. However, I had no Plan B so I panicked and ordered a root beer.

Charlie my boy bunny had a fever this weekend, but as he got better, I developed a bad cold. Sunday a bunch of my friends went hiking, but I could barely get out of bed. Yesterday I called in sick to work and sat around having a pity party for myself. Ugh! TWO summer colds in one summer! I tried to get some fresh air on my balcony, but after a few minutes a dozen yellow jackets ascended like tiny helicopters and swarmed around me. One landed right on the top of my head - and stung me!! I ran inside to put some onion on the sting... and the yellow jacket was clinging to my leg! I smacked it and it fell to the floor, stunned. Then I finished it off with my salsa dancing shoe. After that I was a geniune sorehead, on top of being sniffly and sneezy. Fortunately Charlie felt the proper amount of sympathy for me and sat kissing me as I lay on the floor in utter wretched misery. See, this is why I live with rabbits instead of a man.

Famous Hat

Famous Hat Goes to New Orleans

My goal was to make a pilgrimage to each of the Jazz Cities: Chicago, Kansas City, St. Louis, and the queen of all jazz cities, New Orleans. I had visited all the others when in September of 2005 my best friend and I had plans to visit the Crescent City, but a little thing called Katrina ruined our plans (and many other things!). I cried every day for a week and then got on with my life, thinking I had missed my chance.

Three years later, in September 2008, my best friend was sent to a convention in the Big Easy. Did I want to come down? You bet I did! She flew, but I took the train because what better way to get to the city of New Orleans than on the City of New Orleans? I brought with me four Hawaiian shirts, a violin I had found in the trash, and Famous Hat. At the train station there was a slight complication in that the station master said the train was only running as far as McComb, MS, which he claimed was a nothing little town you wouldn't want to get off in unless your Great Aunt Sally lived there. (This is not an entirely fair characterization of McComb - why, it has its own suburb, South McComb!) I was so determined to reach New Orleans that I was even willing to FLY (and I hate and fear planes), but the station master claimed there were no flights going in or out of NO due to Hurricane Gustav or Ike or whoever. I briefly entertained the notion of driving, but that is a VERY long road trip by oneself, even in a car as wonderful as Erin Caitlin O'Honda. Finally I decided to risk McComb, and that worked out fine because a couple of firemen on the train who were going down to help rebuild houses in the 9th Ward convinced AmTrak to let us passengers ride on the same bus with the employees, who of course had to get back to their homes in NO.

New Orleans is a place you either love or hate, and I definitely fall in the former camp. OK, Bourbon Street at night is a little disgusting, not so much because of the strip clubs (I mean, I was expecting that), but what's up with all the clubs featuring cover bands butchering Journey and AC/DC tunes? I mean, who goes to New Orleans to hear arena rock??? And the drunken tourists are not a plus either, but I did acquire quite a few beads without even having to show anyone anything beneath my Hawaiian shirt.

There is one fantastic club on Bourbon Street called Fritzel's, it's a European-style jazz club featuring groups that play really old-school jazz, like Prohibition Era. It's awesome to see a banjo used in a tight jazz ensemble, hardly anything better! We tried absinthe there (like drinking a black jellybean) and saw a guy wearing a monacle, I kid you not. On St. Peter, just off Bourbon, is Preservation Hall, which also has old-school jazz acts. No food, no drink, no bathroom, and hardly any seats, it's a tiny fire trap of a place with one door in and one door out. Next door is Pat O'Brien's, where the Hurricane was supposedly invented, and they have a wonderful courtyard with a fountain that has fire on top of it. Every night on the corner of Bourbon and Canal we saw a band of young guys playing New Orleans style jazz, with the tuba and lots of horns, just playing on the street for tips. Our hotel concierce sent us on a mission to Frenchmen Street to find Ready Teddy; we did not find him, but we did find someone who claimed to know him, and we also found lots of real jazz clubs like Snug Harbor (with the very cute bartender, Jeff) and the Spotted Cat. And of course there are always random street musicians playing in Jackson Square in front of St. Louis Cathedral, or by Cafe du Monde. (Shameless plug - best beignets in the free world, and probably in the world you have to pay for too.)

We accomplished many of our tourist goals, such as a mule-drawn carriage ride through the French Quarter and a paddleboat ride, but our plantation tour was canceled. We did take a tour of St. Louis Cemetery and actually encountered a voodoo guy in front of Marie Laveau's tomb. He was starting to tell us some stuff about voodoo when a tour guide who was channeling Sam Kinison hollered at him to stop defacing the tombs, since the voodoo people always draw three X's on Marie Laveau's tomb as if it were a bottle of moonshine. We thought there was going to be a terrific dustup, but the voodoo guy just kind of... vanished. We asked our tour guide if it was all planned for our amusement, but he swore it wasn't.

We also did some less touristy stuff, like taking the free ferry across the river to Algiers, which is an adorable neighborhood full of shotgun houses with tropical gardens, and we also took the bus to the zoo. Tourists may take the trolley cars (we sure did), but only real people take the bus. It was a rainy day, so I had my sunglasses on Famous Hat. If you don't want anyone to mess with you in the Big Easy, just wear a hat wearing sunglasses. It either makes you look tough or renders you completely invisible, I'm not completely sure which. At the zoo we saw a fake bayou full of alligators, and they were so creepy that I didn't feel any guilt about eating them on po' boys. (Not those particular alligators, of course.) Yes, the food in New Orleans is every bit as delicious as you have heard. Gumbo, jambalaya, muffalettas, bread pudding, okra, crawfish etouffe, oysters, shrimp - yum! Speaking of sea creatures, let me put in a plug for the aquarium down on the riverwalk, which has an especially extensive collection of jellyfish and seahorses.

People will try to sell you all kinds of things on the streets of New Orleans. Here is a list that is far from comprehensive of what I was offered: paintings, CDs, balloon art, and a live bird that some guy caught and tried to sell me for $20. (I offered him $5 so I could let it go, but he wouldn't come down on his price.) Then there are all the identical stores full of Cajuncrap, with names like Voodoo Jambalaya. They are open until all hours of the night, blasting zydeco music and selling obsene T-shirts and bead strands, cheap masks, and dried alligators. I did buy a voodoo doll for my bunnysitter. It was terrifyingly cute.

My biggest disappointment was not getting to meet the Trash Magnate of New Orleans, Sidney D. Torres IV. Check out his website (SDT Waste Collection or something like that) - he is one fine specimen! But his shiny black trucks were everywhere, cleaning up the French Quarter every morning with lemon-scented water. (Sidney, if you're reading this, call me!)

So now I am back home with my extensive collection of beads; in fact, I have them in so many colors that my first week back I resolved to wear beads with every outfit I wore to work. It's important to have goals. Would I go back again? You bet!

Famous Hat