Just a Thought: Oysters

Closer to Heaven than you can even imagine.

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Remember.

Nine Years Ago.

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New Life for the Orpheum Theatre

I was seven years old when I paid my first admission to the Orpheum Theatre. The beauty of the space took my breath away. I was fascinated by the luxurious velvets and silks; the ornate gold leaf trim around the proscenium and up to the ceiling surrounding the huge chandeliers.  It was a most impressive sight, for sure. (Click on any image to embiggen.)

I was there to see the re-issued Disney animated film, Fantasia (first released in 1940). I was with my sisters and a few neighborhood kids, as I recall.  Most

everyone in our little group became physically ill, some having to throw up, because of the animation.  Not me! I sat in that huge space and drank every bit of the film in. The theatre had a state-of-the-art sound system, too, and the film was presented in the original stereo format.  I was blown away - by the film and the theatre.

Four years later I was actually on the stage performing in a live radio broadcast of a locally produced show. (Television was coming soon.) It was during this visit for rehearsals and then broadcast, that I learned some of the history of the old place. It had been known as the RKO Orpheum from it’s early days as a vaudeville theatre, and the backstage areas still held the trappings of those years.  Dressing rooms with light bulb sockets surrounding the mirrors where makeup was applied.  Special passages and stage works were everywhere.  

With the best acoustics of any venue in the city, it became the home of the

Louisiana Philharmonic Orchestra.  It was a first-run movie palace for years before the  disarray, disintegration of the downtown area. In later years, it hosted theatrical events and concerts before Katrina shut it down for the past decade.

But, the grande dame is getting a facelift, thanks to new owners with a vision, cash and imagination to see it happen. From NOLA.com:

The Orpheum Theater has played host to silence for nearly a decade. The 96-year-old space, shuttered since Hurricane Katrina, is the preferred venue of the Louisiana Philharmonic Orchestra because of its pristine acoustics. Going back further in history, it was a stage for vaudeville, then a movie house.
The last time Roland von Kurnatowski remembers attending an event there was the 1960s. He was a kid going to see "PT 109," the biopic

High water mark from Katrina on exit doors.

about John F. Kennedy's World War II service in the South Pacific.
Fifty years later, a rolled-up movie screen still hangs above the stage, and von Kurnatowski is a new owner of the Orpheum, overseeing a $13 million year-long renovation of the theater.
Even in its state of disrepair, the majesty of the Orpheum persists.
"I can imagine what performing on that stage would feel like with your audience so close," von Kurnatowski said. "Something about it -- it really grabs your attention. It's a confirmation that this is a special

place, very deserving and worthy of the effort."
He and his wife, Mary von Kurnatowski, are perhaps best known as the owners of Tipitina's club and founders of Tipitina's Foundation, which supports music culture by supplying instruments and internships to young musicians. They bought the Orpheum for $1.5 million in February with business partner Dr. Eric George.
It was listed for sale last year for the third time since Katrina, after

years of failed promises from other developers to rejuvenate the performance hall.
Roland von Kurnatowski drove past the Orpheum a couple of days before Thanksgiving last year and saw the for-sale sign. He recognized the name of a friend, real estate broker Don Randon, and picked up the phone. Three days later, he had written an offer.
"I knew right away it was going to be all about bringing it back to what it was," said Mary von Kurnatowski.
The new owners hope to restore the history while creating a space for multiple uses, from the return of the Louisiana Philharmonic Orchestra and other musical performances to movie premieres, private events and fundraisers.

The rest is HERE.

I had a similar experience when I was given a tour of the then-closed Beacon Theatre in NYC. That too, is a memory that will live with me forever. 

There are two things I dreamed of owning all my life; one was a theatre where I could show the films I wanted and stage the shows no one else would; and the second would be a radio station.

Having studied film at NYU, worked in theatre and radio since I was 10, I think I could have done some good and brought obscure movies the attention that I think they deserve. A radio station without a format would be a real dream come true for many people I know.  Every 3 or 4 hour segment would be devoted to a different genre jockeyed by an expert in that specific genre.  Where there was spill-over of genres, there could be open mike and call-ins. We had a similar (though much pared down) version of this at the last station I worked in NJ.  Ah, the roads I didn’t take….

Suddenly I have an ear worm. Let Sondheim take us from this nostalgic place.

One has regrets Which one forgets And as the years go on The road you didn’t take Hardly comes to mind Does it? 

The door you didn’t try Where could it have led? The choice you didn’t make Never was defined Was it?

No.  It wasn’t. Still, it does my heart good to see the old Orpheum brought back to life with a grand future ahead. Maybe I’ll get to see her once more in all her rejuvenated grandeur.  May it be so.

And so it goes.

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Mardi Gras - 10 Years Apart

1950 Duke and Duchess of Windsor share a float in the Rex Mardi Gras Parade.

The Duke and Duchess (Wallis Simpson) at the Ball, being received at court by Rex, the King of Mardi Gras - 1950.

1960. A Duke in Costume for Krewe of Terpsichore. 

And a good laugh was had by all.  I wonder who this person could be?!?

And so it goes.
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Fedora or Outback?

Let me preface this by saying that I don’t think I look good in hats. Oh sure, I wear a baseball-cap type to keep the sun off my baldpate, but that took a lot of getting used to.  Now this.

This is going to be a part of my morning-walk-on-the-boardwalk attire. (See the image at left.) Thanks to the Chemo and one of the other meds the sun is dangerous to my health, and happy skin. I broke out in a strange sort of blister/rash last evening, by this morning it was a pretty ugly sight and I was a wreck. 

Along with the twin Vidaza injections, I was given another, of some unpronounceable substance which ought to help relieve the itch and bring the blistering under control.

There are no men’s hat shops around here; shops only carry the usual beachy straw things, bands in loud heterosexual colors, with ultra-cool (read Dorky!) narrow brims that do nothing to keep the sun at bay. You know, it’s about a certain style, je nais se quoi. 

So, there you have it. I purchased this one from the same online retailer where I bought the hat for my NOLA holiday last year. That one, a sort of crushable Indiana Jones affair, was very useful (I think), but the brim isn’t wide enough for the protection now required.  I don’t want my neck or face to look like my pate. Of course, I don’t want to look like a horse’s ass, either.

Note: There are no pictures of me in that hat because there are no pictures of me in NOLA. The trip boiled down to high fevers and the interior of the hotel room. Not a festive time, by any stretch of the imagination.

The ankle swelling has returned and this time includes the feet, too. I have 2 new prescriptions to counter this problem, as well. 

It was decided that I looked a bit on the green side when I arrived at the  Center this afternoon, so a blood draw was done, CBC, etc. 2 units are scheduled for me tomorrow morning at the crack of dawn, to be followed by the twin Vidaza Chemo injections.  Then, I get to come home and collapse in a ragged heap as the diuretic and Chemo ravages my body.

Every single day there's something new to be bothered with.  Today, it’s the hat, or no more morning walks. I’ll settle for the hat for now and take those walks as long as I can. I may even take a selfie in the damned thing if I get up the nerve. No need to promise not to laugh.  Remember, laughs are good for us.  Remember???  

And so it goes.

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Inspections, Reservations and Dry Martinis

Felt much better than expected as I drove out to the DMV yesterday morning. Or rather, I should say I “drove the gauntlet” to the DMV. Road, highway, and home construction created obstacles every few miles.  From heavy equipment on and off the roadway, to lane closures on an otherwise major artery from DC and Maryland. Unfortunately, I had to drive the road in both directions, since my alternate route of choice was closed completely for 3 miles in either direction. There was also electronic signage flashing warnings of more disruptions to come next week in other areas down the same road.

It was good I chose to make the journey when I did. It will be a complete nightmare by next week.  Why this work is left to just weeks before Memorial Day and the summer season, I cannot guess and will probably never know.  But, they do it all the time, every year.

Needless to say, the trip took much longer than it ought, but I had nothing else to do and no where to be before noon, so I took my time and watched other frantic drivers (who weren’t as fortunate) pound their fists and scream at the road crews, who couldn’t hear them over the noise of their machines anyway.

As usual for a Monday, the inspection lines at the DMV were already long when I arrived - a half hour before the bays were opened. Oh, well. I was lucky to get behind three landscaping trucks who went through quickly and passed with flying colors. My own inspection went smoothly as well and within a half hour I had paid for the new sticker and was on the road heading back to the beach. 

Of course by this time it was what passes for “rush hour” around these parts so traffic was heavier, drivers more animated (and angry) as it was slow going up to the last  2 miles before reaching the Ocean highway, better known as Route 1. It took over 3 hours for the round trip, but I am set for another 2 years - if I live that long- before having to do it all over again.

I printed out a few pages of New Orleans websites and drove over to Dos Locos. Being almost a summer day (temps hit the upper 80s)and people getting their first really good day at the beach, it was a chore to find a parking spot nearby. I drove around a while and finally one spot opened up a few doors down from the restaurant.  I was in!

After hugs from everyone in the place and sharing some news regarding the upcoming season, Joe and I spent 2 hours in the office going over their itinerary.  Ostensibly, this trip is to celebrate Darryl’s birthday (which always falls too close to Mother’s Day for a real getaway), but I think they both want (and need) one more short retreat before the hordes descend for the next 4 months.

They chose really good restaurants - only one I didn’t know or personally approve of, but hey, if they didn’t know me, they’d not know any good dining spots in town and would rely on either Open Table or Trip Advisor.  Neither of which I would trust, especially reviewing a city like NOLA. 

For instance, many reviewers complained about slow service, not understanding that is a trademark of the “City That Time Forgot” and not a lack of care for diners. Diners aren’t rushed in and out of restaurants in that town.  Defeats the purpose of all the effort to prepare such good food. 

So, as we sat there, Joe chose the days, times, and restaurants for just about every meal for the 5 days they’ll be there. He even made reservations as we made various choices. 

We left a couple of breakfast or lunch spots free for those times they want to take a tour or street car ride around town.  They can have a few more adventures that way on their own.  

After all that work was done and reservations made, it was time for a cocktail.  Well, of course it was, silly.

We sat at the bar as Joe sipped a Bulldog and I thoroughly enjoyed a long-awaited Bombay Martini, we talked more about the trip, the city, and his luck with getting an incredible deal on a suite at a new hotel in the Quarter.  They are within walking distance to everything of importance to the new visitor and he seemed quite proud of his accomplishment.  As he should be.

Suddenly most of the staff was behind us and Joe decided we needed a couple of pictures of the memorable occasion.  So, here they are. These were taken with his phone. Joe and me at the top of the post (can you tell I am totally enjoying the moment?) and with the wait and kitchen staff in this one. The usual suspects, and it was a joy to see them all, at least for a short time.

I really miss my work and these great folks. I hope I get to go back to work again some time. All in all, a good day and the buzz I came home with wasn’t a bad way to cap it off. I actually had another half martini, poured without my knowledge by the bartender, my bud, Piolin. But, I won’t tell if you don’t…

And so it goes.

Tossin’ and Turnin’!

Just another sleepless night around these parts. I did fall asleep around 8 last night but was wide awake again by midnight. I stayed in the dark for a while hoping that sleep would return, but after an hour of that frustration, I turned on the lights and read until 4 am when I had to take my first drugs of the day. 

Scrambled up an egg and a slice of toast, followed it up with juice and a coffee Although I couldn’t eat it all, I felt better for the bit in my stomach.

Got a message from the Locosguys last evening asking that I give them some ideas for their upcoming long weekend trip to New Orleans. They want me to come by the restaurant today, and if I feel up to it I will take them up on their offer. I'd love the chance to see everyone and be out among the living for a change.

So, the dark, pre-dawn hours were spent collecting links to websites for restaurants that I know and love. I don’t know the guys' taste in foods, but I hope they are at least adventurous enough to try some very different dishes, or known dishes served up in unconventional ways.  Anyway, that’s up to them. I’m just preparing the list and will chat with them at length sometime today - I hope.

They’ve already made hotel reservations, using travel points, as they said, so I am not responsible for that part of the trip. I know little about the grand hotel they’ve booked, other than that it’s known locally as a hot, expensive tourist and conventioneer’s place.  Not something I would choose, but they ain’t me.  This is their first trip to the city, so they’ll have fun, I am sure.

All this has given me something to do to pass time otherwise spent reading. I’ve re-read all the Pern books I’d read years ago, plus I downloaded a few of the newer additions to the saga.  They’ve been a nice diversion and very quick reads. Sometimes too quick, if you get my drift. There are a few still that I haven’t read, so if this insomnia keeps hanging around, I might download one or two to remain occupied and pass the boring time.

I haven’t been on FB in over a month for obvious reasons, and I find that I don’t miss it. Turns out that it’s not what I thought it would be anymore - a far cry from anything remotely “social” at least to my mind. In any case, I doubt I’ll return after all this time. 

It's an absolutely glorious day here and since it's also Mother's Day, I hope I can find a parking spot near the restaurant.  If not, well...  It is what it is.

And so it goes.

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Thin Mints & Wiggly Veins

Instead of "capped teeth & caesar salad" - never mind, it's a Lloyd Webber Thing. Woke up with this song in my head. Damn these morning ear worms!!! Anyway, it's the first obvious title that came to mind. Deal with it. And humor me, OK?  

Arrived at the Center yesterday morning at 7:15 am, and the place was already jumping. Lots of people arriving for Chemo treatments, some in better moods than others, especially for such an early hour. 

When one of the nurses from the Infusion Dept. came to escort me back to my section for transfusion, she surprised me with a bear hug and a box of Thin Mint Girl Scout Cookies.  The story goes that she found a few little girls standing at a small table in front of some store, in the freezing cold, and she thought of me.  So she bought a box as a gift. What a thoughtful surprise. I tried to pay her but she wouldn't accept my nasty cash. 

There was a large strip of surgical tape wrapped around the sealed box with my name printed on it in big black magic marker letters. She made sure that no one was going to eat those cookies. Every nurse in the section came up to tell me how lucky I was to find the box still intact. Seems they all love chocolate and Thin Mints, too. 

I offered to open the box and share, but they would have none of that.  Those cookies were special - they were mine. Indeed, I did feel special.

Getting down to the blood business at hand, two nurses began to prep me by attempting to open a port in one of my arms.  I have two arms, BTW. That's when the problems began. I have been told I have "great" veins; easy to see and so convenient to access for transfusing. However, with the continued weight loss, it seems the veins have a tendency to wriggle around, making it difficult to open a port. 

After 6 punctures and 3 blown veins, one was finally found to be stable and the access point was opened. By this time I had 6 holes in my arms, covered in gauze and medical tape. The spots where the 3 veins had blown were swelling, and purple - though not painful. These would have to be watched carefully for any leaking as the blood entered my body.  The pressure caused by the incoming blood flowing rarely results in this effect, (but it happens)  which is not pretty, and fairly uncomfortable. 

This stress coupled to the effect of the Benadryl injection meant there would be no reading while I sat there for 6+ hours. So I whipped out the earbuds and listened to music, instead. This turned out to be a mixed blessing. I was able to nod off at times, but still had to be aware of any change in the taped up wounds.  

One outlet began to leak, so the flow was reduced to limit  the pressure, which seemed to help. All in all, the dressings had to be changed twice throughout the day. A day made half again as long as it should because of the slower rate of blood transferred each hour. I was held captive for nine hours rather than the usual six.  Yep, another full day shot to hell.

Of course, as a human pin cushion side-show freak now, I am not allowed to bathe or shower for 48 hours. To shave, I need to wear long sleeves and medical gloves to protect the hands and arms from getting wet and possibly infected. 

Are we having fun, yet? 

Between the vertigo, the effects of the Benadryl, and the Lasix making me pee my brains out every few minutes, I somehow managed to drive home, hobble up the stairs, and belly-flop onto the bed. 

That's where I woke an hour later, feeling suddenly hungry and the urgent need to pee, yet again. Being in no condition to stand and cook a meal, I opted for sour dough toast washed down with cantaloupe before heading back to bed. 

Woke up at 3 am today feeling weak but rested. Though spring-like weather is on the agenda today, I have no plans to leave the apartment.

I've made more lists as I enjoyed breakfast and coffee.  Two coffees, actually. My mind is full of ideas, but I don't have the requisite energy, or even enthusiasm to follow through on any of them.

Weekly blood work yields little positive change.  The CBC remains  low, though the Neutrophil count is back up in normal ranges, probably due to the steroid I've been on for 3 weeks now. But that seems the only step forward - the relief from having to wear the damned medical mask in public all the time. 

I have to let people know that this is what is happening, that it isn't just because I'm lazy or lethargic.  Heaven knows, I've had enough peaceful, down time in the past few weeks and it's not for my emotional well-being. 

Finally talked with the sister.  She's prepping for open heart surgery. She's scheduled in two weeks and was given a tour of the ICU where she will spend her recovery time. I could tell she was apprehensive, but she asked the medical team all the important questions and feels resigned to what's to come. The call cheered us both up and after a half hour we were in our usual laughing mode and feeling better for the conversation and support. Of course, she wants to help me as I want to be there for her.  Ain't gonna happen. 

Of course, I didn't mention that when the vertigo is really bad, I'm light-headed from the inability to gather full lungs of air, my eyes won't focus to read, and I cannot concentrate on a youtube video, I feel as if I'm just hanging around waiting to die. 

On that cheery note I will just say, it is what it is.

And so it goes.

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Celebrate!

Just remember, the masks come off at Sundown.

And so it goes.
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It's Lundi Gras, Y'all!

The world outside my window is monochromatic.  A little touch of colour is needed to make the day brighter. This is just the thing.

A Jester Float.

One Last King Cake.

Throw Me Something, Mister!

A Hot Cadet Drum Major Gettin' His Funk On.

It's All About The Beads.

Sure.  Why not milk it for one extra day?

More later.

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Carnival Caturday

Kitteh says - "Laissez les bons temps rouler!!!"

More later.
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Cleanup, Connections, and Crazy Rednecks

Spent some time today cleaning up the old place a bit.  Needed a little fluffing up, you might say. Let me know what you think, or if it makes a difference in your viewing experience at all.

• Enlarged the font size and changed the default. 
• Added a little more colour to various sections.  
• Updated the blogroll.

More to come when I figure out how to make those changes in the new Blogger. 

There were two new email messages from DL customers waiting for me today.  One sent a link to his new photo exhibit from his recent trip to New Orleans.  All in large format Black and White and all captured the city well. I replied telling him so, and sent links to NOLA music, food, and festival sites.It was the first visit for him and his wife and they fell in love.  Well, or course they did.!!

The other wasn't so uplifting.  Seems he was in a serious accident (thanks to a recent Snowstorm and asshole drivers) and following 5 days in hospital, will be recuperating at home for the next 4 weeks. Jeez!  And he writes to find out how I AM DOING!!  I wrote back with the latest, keeping it as positive as I could and telling him if he wants to chat, just give me a call.  I'm here pretty much all the time, anyway

I made it through the full moon without harming, or killing my neighbors.  The ones with the Duck Dynasty Welcome Mat on their porch, dontcha know. Seems they have a short memory about what is, and what is NOT recyclable in the state.  

They eat pizza. No, I mean THEY EAT PIZZA! Usually 2 or 3 large pies about 3 times weekly.  (She must be good in bed, 'cause she ain't much in the kitchen.) And, they insist on putting the empty boxes in the recycle bins.  They've been called on this in the past - many times - but it never seems to sink in.

The building manager called them on the carpet again, took out all the boxes, placed them at the foot of the stairs, and knocked on the door.  A loud argument ensued.  The male redneck stormed down the stairs, kicked and stomped the boxes all over the grounds as the female redneck sweetly asked him, "oh honey, come on now, stop."  You could tell her heart wasn't in it, though.  

The building manager even offered them a large heavy duty trash bag, in case they had never seen one before, but that only made him more crazed. So she finally left him to his own devices, screaming and stomping and carrying on.  He kicked his car, truck, and the building, too.

Having had enough, I put on a Disco CD and cranked up the volume - something I never do when anyone is in the building - and just let it rip as I prepared supper.  After that, all was quiet on the western front and the world was at peace once again.

When I went outdoors in the morning all pizza boxes were flat, stacked against one another and sitting by their regular trash can behind their stairs.  So, what was accomplished?  How long will this last?  Dunno, and me no care. 

It must be frustrating believing that you're the only important person in the world; that doing the right thing is for those OTHER people.  Yeah, well.

And so it goes.

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Back Then…

Back to Ol' New Orleans One mo' time.  

These first 2 images are hard to date.

Arial view of Pontchartrain Beach. The lake, beach, mid-way and the famous Zephyr roller coaster. Lots of great rides, fun food, and a restaurant that was the scene of many rites of passage when one turned 18 and could order their first alcoholic beverage - legally, that is.  What is missing is the beach stage a later addition, which was the scene of many different entertainments.

National big band, Rock & Roll, and even circus acts graced this stage. In 1958 I entered a dance contest on that stage with my friend Pam, and we were co-winners with another couple.  Seems the judges couldn't choose between us. We won LPs - Pam received Buddy Holly and I got Ritchie Valens. I  actually performed there many times with the Romano Dancers from 1960 to 1962.

The Pitt (ca 1950s) was about a quarter mile from the beach and where, from about age 7,  I spent many rainy saturday mornings at the kiddie matinee watching an hour of cartoons, episodes of the most recent serial, followed by a feature film. The doors opened at 10 am, the fun began at 10:30 am, and lasted until around 4 pm.  The ushers made sure you behaved yourself, or you got kicked out. Admission was 10 cents! Box of popcorn was 5 cents. 

The Circle Food Market (also 1950s, I believe) looked pretty much the same until Katrina.  Best place for local fresh foods and great sandwiches.  It has been closed since the 2005 flooding left 5 feet of water in the place causing millions in damage.  However, there are efforts afoot to bring the place back to life.  Read about that effort here.  One can only hope.  Circle is a classic part of New Orleans culture and landscape.

Thanks for joining me on my trip in the Way-Back Machine.  Until next time.

More later.

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For The Bird or The Bayou?

Thanksgiving 2013 bursts on the scene tomorrow. Whoopee, you say?  No, not around here. The holiday doesn't mean much when one is alone with no family or friends to share the goodies and good time. I could go to the restaurant for a traditional turkey dinner tomorrow, but with the large family crowds my mask and I would be forced to the back dining room alone, so there's no reason to bother with that. I can be just as alone here.

I am feeling better today, (slept 13 hours!) but the heavy rain is causing a great deal of arthritis pain in back and hands.  Yes, it's always something, isn't it?

An the spur of the moment, I took to the kitchen this morning to do some festive cooking of family comfort food favorites. Prepared a Remoulade for boiled shrimp, made an Étouffée for chicken and shrimp, now a pot of red beans with smoked sausage is simmering on the stove as I type. An artichoke heart with asparagus & onion salad is chilling, and a baguette is at the ready.  

Since there's a good chance of staying home tomorrow, I'll have a little sample of everything and just graze all day. Preparing/cooking dishes like these a day ahead of time gives all the flavors a chance to blend well.  

There are a few interesting BBC documentaries in the You Tube cue for today and tomorrow; The Story of Electricity, The History of Celtic Britain, and Men of Rock.  All multi-episode and recent productions. I'll not be bored. Well, not too bored. I am also on the hunt for films and books related to Paganism. No special reason.  A few fave bloggers practice (or dabble), make it sound interesting, so I thought I'd learn more for myself. 

If any readers have suggestions for reading materials on the subject for the curious, uninitiated, leaving a comment would be appreciated.  

There is a special birthday celebration at the restaurant on Sunday.  My wee Irish Lass and GM, Linda is hitting the big 5-0 mark. She didn't want any fuss, but the locosguys planned the party before she could make other plans and disappear that day.  They are sneaky that way - they've done it to me several times.  I am not one for birthday parties for myself, but going along with the fun isn't a bad thing at all. Especially when the locosguys pull out the stops. Embarrassing, maybe, but that's all in good fun. I have a special gift for her as a birthday and a "thank you" as well. It was she who drove me to and from the airport for the NOLA trip, giving up half of a precious day off to do so. She's volunteered to look after the apartment if (when) I go into hospital for treatment or surgery.  Whichever comes first.  She's a good Lass and one of a kind.

Then later next week Deb, my driver and sidekick to Christiana hospital celebrates her birthday. I thought about taking her out to lunch on her day off, which is always a fun thing to do in the off season.  Restaurants are usually quiet at lunch in the off-season, so that's a plus, too. A win-win all round. Just hope I feel up to the excitement.

Waiting to hear from the Christiana surgeon's office who told the local doctor he wanted to see me earlier than the scheduled appt. date of 12/17.  The office called yesterday at lunch time and told me they had an appointment open that afternoon - an hour later.  First off, I need a ride.  Second, I couldn't make that trip in an hour.  Seems they had no idea where I lived.

Listen people!  All relevant data (address, phone, prescribed drugs, recent medical updates) are in the database staring you in the face from the glowing screen on the desk in front of you.  I mean, where else did you get the phone number to call me, if not there?  Please read the f**king database before calling with an impossible suggestion or demand.  That. Is. All.

Anyway.

Attempted calls to the sister this week have been unsuccessful.  I'll try again tomorrow in the early morning - before she heads out with her contributions to the communal Thanksgiving meal in the apartment complex.  Maybe I'll get her then. 

BTW, not sure I've written this before, but the transplant rep, sent notice that the sister's screening results indicate that she is NOT a match for a marrow transplant.  I haven't told the sister yet.  She'll be disappointed - as am I.  My name has been added to the national donor registry, at least on a temporary basis. I have no idea what happens next. Really, I don't have a clue. 

Have plans to meet friend and blogger Ron (Retired in Delaware) for lunch on Saturday; a belated birthday gift for him, too. Although we chat via Face Time, email, and blog comments, we've not had the chance to break bread in a very long time.  Looking forward to that event. Only hope the health thing isn't cause for cancellation at the last minute. In any event, we're in touch.

Oh, I am a bad boy.  I bought Egg Nog made by the best local dairy around. Only a quart, but I'll wager it doesn't make it through the weekend.  Any takers?  Thought not.

If you celebrate the holiday, I hope the day is filled with joy, good food, family and friends and that all travels see you home safe and sound.  Cheers!

PS:  Is this site difficult to read?  Blogger offers few options. I don't want to go to a huge sub-header font, but I don't want the content hard on the eyes, either.  I've been experimenting with various fonts in the original texts, but Blogger seems to blow that all away when I publish.  Let me know, please.

And so it goes.
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Back Then...

Original photos of the Art Deco Airport on the lakefront in New Orleans taken in the 1930s.

The subject of a recent post about it's restoration is HERE.

There will be more "Back Then" in the future. With no old photos of my own I may as well share those of others.

And so it goes.
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Halloween: "Happy Priest" Old is New Again

See this ad and read it carefully (click to embiggen):

Now don't be offended.  Truth is truth and you can't have opinions about truth. A few years ago there was one offered far more graphic than this one.

OK, truth be told; once upon a time when I was a young'un growing up Gay (and Catlick) in New Orleans, once upon a time at Mardi Gras I costumed as a Pregnant Nun on Roller Skates.  The costume in the ad doesn't have that much imagination. I dreamt up the idea at age 16! Evil boy!  Well, I am left-handed, after all - and we know what that means. You don't?  Go ask an old nun.

After all, nuns were the Islamic terrorists of their day.   If you went to Catholic school you know I speak the truth.  Of course, I do...

Predictably, ol' Bill Donahue - of the Catholic League (a league of one, BTW) is foaming at the mouth over this 'outrage' - in an attempt to martyr himself for all those victims of religious abuse both past and present.

It is what it is.

I wish I was well enough to work Sea Witch this weekend. I'd give some folks heart failure.

h/t: JMG

More later.
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New Orleans Trip Questions Answered

OK,  I'll try to answer some questions asked about the recent fiasco holiday in New Orleans. I may not remember them all, but here we go...

1. The aircraft was the E-190, twin-engine jet.  The configuration offered 94 seats (including First Class), a center aisle with 2 seats on either side. Seats were comfortable and roomy and there was plenty of head room in the aisle. The popular aircraft is manufactured by a Brazilian aerospace conglomerate. The E-190 has been flying commercially since 2004.  From what I've read, the aircraft is fuel efficient and with fewer seats most flights are close to full all the time.  USAir is the only airline to fly non-stop to New Orleans from Philadelphia..  All other airlines flying out of Baltimore make at least one stop and/or a change of planes.  Not wanting to spend most of the first day in and out of airports I opted for USAir and happy about the decision.  

2. Don't know the brand of tablet the man in plaid was using, (it didn't look like an iPad) but I am sure the jigsaw puzzle app is available for many formats.

3. Many homes in the Quarter have courtyards behind the main house. The center of much activity, the courtyard often boasted a carriage house and the slave quarters. Many of these  have been turned into charming apartments.  Providing lots of privacy and little street noise.

4. There is music everywhere in the Quarter; most of it free.  All you have to do is take a walk to take in some of the best voices and musicians around.  They may look shabby, but baby, they know their stuff. The loud stuff belching from open doors of bars on Bourbon Street is OK, but mostly for the tourists and many charge a cover, plus minimum to stand inside and listen. The small groups, trios and such, are found on virtually all streets in the Quarter.  Finding them isn't a problem. 

5. The mighty Mississippi, now somewhat tamed, is still a restless river and her swirling currents create sand bars; river pilots even today are brought on board at certain areas of the river to guide ships through safely. Read Mark Twain's "Life on the Mississippi" for more.

6. No one (except tourists) wears Mardi Gras beads unless it is Mardi Gras. Locals find it gauche to wear such garb in the off season.  Saints garb however, is appropriate any time of the day or night - every day of the year. Yes, the city goes absolutely insane about their football and their team. Even those who aren't football fans. 

7. There is a very good grocery store (Rouse's, part of a small chain) two blocks from the hotel; a pharmacy (Walgreens?) four blocks away.  The grocery store also makes salads, sandwiches, and baked goods daily.  And remember, you can purchase beer, wine and liquor at any of these shops, too. Prices are reasonable, considering the location, and the selection of beers and wines, quite extensive. 

8. The photos of the River and Cathedral were taken from the "Moon Walk" (named for previous mayor Moon Landrieu. father of Sen. Mary Landrieu (D-LA)) atop the levee, and yes, that was the most glorious day of the trip. Cooler temps, high clouds, no rain, and low humidity. 

9. If you happen to walk by a building where there is broken glass, shattered mirror fragments, and stumps of burned out candles on the ground, just keep going. It was probably part of a voodoo ritual performed over night. 

10. The hotel is called the Inn on St. Peter.  It is one of a small group called French Quarter Guest Houses  The rooms are clean and cleaned every day. There is a flat screen TV with cable, a Keurig coffee machine, iron and ironing board, and a hair dryer in each room. All rooms on the ground level open into the courtyard, (a thick, high wall with locked iron gate stands between the street and the courtyard for privacy) while those on the second floor open onto the balcony facing St. Peter Street.  The Inn is on the corner of Burgundy and St. Peter.  One block from Rampart Street.  The rooms are not big and luxurious, but who cares?  You'll not be spending much time there anyway. I was within blocks of everything without the constant noise of Quarter life. The whistle of the Stern-wheeler, Natchez can be heard when she leaves port every day, but that is a thrilling sound that brought back many memories. The Inn website is HERE.  I loved the place and would stay there again.

Oh, and yes, there was a real life Street Car Named Desire as evidenced  by the photo above taken in 1948.  By the time I was old enough to ride public transit, they had been replaced with buses, though the tracks remained for a few more years. 

I think that's about it.  If I have forgotten anything, I am sure you will let me know.

And so it goes.
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NOLA's Famous Art Deco Airport Gets a New Life.

Concrete & Steel enveloped the building- 1960s

This is a great story, beautiful images, and great piece of history. The airport was close to my home and after swimming in the lake, friends and I would trudge over to the beautiful building for a Coke & candy, or something. Fortunately for me, the 60s make over didn't happen until I was already far away in NYC. It would have torn my heart apart to see what they did to the place.  But now, it is being rejuvenated, given a whole new life in the grand old manner.  A slide show accompanies this article, so please check out the images HERE.  There is also an earlier story at the "classic Art Deco building" link below. That story contains many more images of the actual pain-staking work of the renovation teams.  Check that one out as well.  If you're an Art Deco fan, or just a fan of beautiful architecture, you've love these stories and images.  Enjoy.

Stripped and renovated, ready to reopen - 2013

As T. Sellers Meric and business partner Benedict Cimini put pencils to paper a half century ago to redesign the Lakefront Airport terminal, preservation stood at the heart of each decision the architects made. 

Not only did they want to preserve the local populace from nuclear fallout, but they also wanted to preserve the classic Art Deco building on the shores of Lake Pontchartrain that they were about to ensconce in concrete two inches thick.

At the height of the Cold War, Cimini and Meric produced an award-winning mid-century remodeling that turned the terminal at the end of Downman Road into a fortress of horizontal lines and right angles. Fifty years later, architects and engineers of another generation have restored the 1933 building to its original appearance in the heydays of Huey Long.

As is the case with many things in New Orleans, change for the airport catalyzed with Hurricane Katrina.

Sitting on the bank of Lake Pontchartrain, the terminal swallowed a few feet of water and was battered by high winds and rain during the storm. Wilma Heaton, who was working for the Orleans Levee District, had an office on the second floor and was one of the first people to survey the damage.

"I just sat here crying," she recalled. "I said, 'This place has to come back.'"

As federal disaster aid flowed to New Orleans, FEMA sent $10 million to restore the Lakefront Airport terminal. Barred from rebuilding several structures outside the new levee system, officials redirected another $9 million in federal dollars from those projects to the terminal.

The consulting firm RCL Architecture of Mandeville signed onto the restoration project in 2006 and began four years of research into the building's history.

A restored mural once hidden behind plywood and concrete.

Designed by architects with Weiss, Dreyfous and Seiferth, construction on the original building began around 1929. Lakefront Airport started taking commercial flights in 1933, although it wasn't officially christened until Feb. 9, 1934.

The building is steeped in history. Amelia Earhart stayed in its VIP suites on her way to California to launch her final flight. Air races were common occurrences and spectators watched from the terminal's rooftop observation deck. Murals by the late Spanish-American artist Xavier Gonzalez spanned the central atrium's second-floor balconies.

Long, a U.S. senator by then, had a fully operating surgical suite installed onsite, preparing for the worst possible scenarios. The terminal also housed a post office, a kitchen, cafe, restaurant, a station for immigration and customs and offices for the federal departments of Agriculture and Commerce.

Inside it was a small city and an architectural marvel, unlike any other art deco site in New Orleans because of its level of detail. Built for about $3.5 million at the time, it couldn't be built from scratch today, said Alton Ochsner Davis, an architect who led the recent restoration project for RCL.

"There are so many features to this building," he said. "It would be cost-prohibitive." Cimini and Meric understood this, but in the months following the Cuban-missile crisis, the threat of nuclear war took precedence. Still, they went through enormous pains to preserve as much of the original architecture as possible as they bricked up windows and sheathed the building in concrete and steel.

"They recognized that the completely different art deco design had value and was appreciated by many people, artisans and civilians alike," said R. Vaughn Cimini, Benedict Cimini's son. "And they thought it would be a disservice to society to destroy it."

Meric said he didn't design the 1960s renovation to be temporary, but he believes that had it not been done the building would likely be in worse shape than what Davis found it in. "We probably protected the building for 50 years," he said.

Meric and Cimini's decisions turned the restoration project into a revelatory treasure hunt, Davis said. As each wall was removed a new feature would appear. Crews found six of Gonzalez's eight murals still hanging in their original spots, carefully covered with protective rice paper. The Louisiana State Museum has returned a seventh mural, but an eighth one was destroyed. The Non-Flood Protection Asset Management Authority plans to host a fundraiser on Feb. 9 to help pay for the existing paintings' restorations. Following the terrazzo tiling on the floor, Davis retraced the terminal's original hallways, moving walls and doors back to their original places wherever possible.

The restoration removed the large boardroom Meric and Cimini had installed above the lobby, once again opening the atrium's nicotine-stained ceiling two stories up to the open air. Davis said his team salvaged enough tiles to recreate the original colors of the painted ceiling before decades of smoking travelers had sullied it.

Davis also orchestrated the renovation of the airport's fabled Walnut Room, a popular dance hall and dining space during the war years and the 1950s.

Along with its terminal, Lakefront Airport is undergoing its own small renaissance. It handles roughly 190 takeoffs and landings every day, and in June it restored commercial airline passenger service for the first time since 1946.

"It's like a battered child," Heaton, who is now a commissioner with the Non-Flood Asset Management Authority that oversees the airport, said of the terminal. "But it survived, and it's back and it's a new day."

The link to this story & slide show is HERE.

The link to the "Classic Art Deco building" is HERE.

We used to get all dressed up on Saturday evenings and go dancing at the Walnut Room to live bands, no less.  The place was one of our favorites.

Never thought I've live to see the terminal as I remember it, but there it is. The terminal was officially reopened to the public the week after I returned to Delaware.  

And so it goes. 

Lagniappe From New Orleans

Here are a few shots from the New Orleans trip.  Bored to tears today, I downloaded, and edited them, and now uploaded them for y'all to enjoy. Or, not.  I'll caption them for now. There isn't much of a story to tell.  Most were shot on the days I felt well enough to be out and about.  (Click any image to embiggen.) So, here goes.

Tablets were everywhere on the flight down. The guy in plaid was doing jigsaw puzzles, had a good eye, and expert at matching the tiny pieces.

This made me LOL when I turned on the bathroom light in my room. There was also a Keurig coffee maker as well. Glad I didn't buy one. I don't know what people like about them. The coffee it produced wasn't very good, either.

A selfie taken on the first afternoon.  Not looking too bad considering the previous 2 weeks. 

Two very unique, old, historic homes a block from the hotel on St. Peter St.  They are featured on all walking tours of the Quarter.

Cloudlburst on day 2, came and went within a half hour. That's NOLA! Taken from the door to my room. All rooms are off the balcony or off the courtyard on the ground floor.

Driveway leading to the back courtyard of a home on Burgundy St.  The sign at right reads, "Don't even think of parking here!"

The lovely Cafe duMonde, home of Beignets and cafe au lait.

Over 100 years old, Tujague's is still one of the best in town. Sorry I missed it. Maybe next time.

Interesting street artist catering to the tourist trade. Her other works (hidden from view) were quite good, actually.

The ever-present pick-up Jammin' Jazz Ensemble waiting for more musicians to join in.. The guy at far left just arrived and is tying his shoes. That's his tuba on the ground behind him.

The Big Muddy running low. That sandbar was not there two days later. Sandbars are some of the greatest dangers for river traffic; they pop up anywhere at anytime then disappear a day or two later. That's the Mighty Mississippi for you.

Electronic, computerized parking meter.  Don't try to figure it out. Looks like something straight out of Dr. Who. A Dalek invention, perhaps!

The ubiquitous carriages waiting to take tourists on an adventure in the French Quarter.

French Market alley. In the back is a sculpture sitting in front of a mural depicting the Market in the 1800s. If you recognize the object on the wall at right, I am pleased to tell you that there are quite a few around and all in fine working order. 

Jackson Square and St. Louis Cathedral taken on the finest day of the entire trip.

Taken the day before my departure.  I suspect word got out that I was not feeling well that day.

Well, that's that. There were a few others, but none worth sharing, or saving for that matter. As I said, there are no pictures of friends because I didn't spend time with anyone.  Just the bed, an icepack, Tylenol, and me.  Romantic, ain't it?

Tomorrow being Monday there may be fewer people around, so I hope to go out for breakfast. I am dying for some human contact. Yes, I'll wear the mask, only take it off when I eat or drink. Just hope I continue to feel as good as I have the past 24 hours.

And so it goes.
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