A Literary Expedition to Explore and Expose the REAL New Orleans
NEUTRAL NATION MEETS NEUTRAL GROUND
Barbara Schweizer from Switzerland: Not Neutral When It Comes to Band Allegiance
Part of the beauty of writing in New Orleans is the chance to meet people from around the world and, hopefully, launch my blog internationally; as a writer in love with irony, it wasn’t lost on me that I met Krewe of Rocckus’s first international attendee, Barbara Schweizer from neutral Switzerland, on the neutral ground of Canal Street! [Read more…]
INTERVIEW WITH A PIRATE
Pirate-Hobo On Parade
After Friday’s open-bar brunch I was guilty of blogging while intoxicated, but nothing will sober you up quicker than writing during the world’s largest party. Ever since my arrival at Lucy’s, running late has become my modus operandi; I was in no rush as I finished blogging about the night before and headed back to the room to dress like a Pirate for my meet up with the Krewe so we could second-line all the way to Michaul’s restaurant to feast, imbibe, and watch Krewe of Hermes roll from raised private viewing bleachers. I arrived late but in time to snap a few photos before setting in motion behind the Treme Brass Band.
Okay, okay. A few things in that paragraph beg explanation. [Read more…]
NOT NEAR AS CHALLENGING AS A TWO-SYLLABLE WORD
Your Roccktail, Sir
In their emails leading up to the event, Krewe of Rocckus’s awesome organizers, Ashley, Ashley, Brian, and Maggie (advanced apologies if I screwed up names or left anyone out, but it was an open bar on the Creole Queen, after all!) gave some hints about the Roccktail contest that would be held at the welcome brunch, but in the end, it was really no contest. Word is Michael Jerome pouted a bit last year after his team came in second for everything and he was eager to return with a winner. Either luck or the Patron Saint of Mardi Gras Mojo was on his side, for one of the two sent him fifteen year bartender and food services professional Sally Baker to save the day. [Read more…]
TYPE D-
Steven & Brandi and Kelly & Michael Saving Me A Seat At the Welcome Brunch
After rushing to Lucy’s the previous evening only to arrive unfashionably early, yesterday I wandered over to Manning’s, the new sports bar opened by Archie just across from the Hilton, ten minutes comfortably late for the welcome brunch only to find a long food line and the unavailability of a single seat in our second floor perch. Doh! Apparently the rhythm method just isn’t my thang, as I just can’t get my timing right.
Cajun Salve for the Creole Soul
It would take more than a seating shortage to dampen my spirits, however, and what better salve for the soul than shrimp & grits, sliders, fried catfish, and beef tacos?! After filling two tiny plates to the point of overflow (did you really think I’d fall for that small plate trick?!), I headed out to the balcony where I found one last hidden seat with two couples that were reconnecting from Rocckus 2012. Par for the course, we fell into easy conversation and became fast friends. KoR is quality peeps—all killer, no filler! As I chatted with Brandi & Steven and Kelly & Michael, they questioned me about my crazy scheme and [Read more…]
LET’S DO THE TIME WARP AGAIN….AND AGAIN….AND AGAIN….
Hanging With Michael Jerome of Better Than Ezra
For someone who has a reputation of frequently being late, I sure am aware of time. Some people create a distraction by rolling in to family dinners and public functions infuriatingly late and blissfully unaware. I’m that guy that’s always just ten minutes behind and hates it. I think I have plenty of time to get where I’m going and lose myself in preparation. At some point, though, I inevitably hit a time warp where ten or twenty minutes just disappears into a black hole and suddenly I’m rushing and fussing and stressing and cussing until I roll in at my pre-determined ten-minutes-late time, all apologies and frazzled to the core. So, as usual, last night the Krewe was scheduled to have its first event at 7pm to watch Muses parade during a meet and greet at the upstairs of Lucy’s Retired Surfers Bar (I had no idea [Read more…]
RED BEANS, PRALINES, AND SATIRE QUEENS
Room With A View
I’m now perched high in a Hilton typing away and looking upon the mighty Mississippi as it rushes past this hotel at the foot of Poydras (poy-drus) towards its famous crescent-shaped bend. The room and view are both gorgeous and check-in went smooth. Along with our schedule and concert tickets, I received a goodie bag with all kinds of interesting stuff including canned red beans—you never know when the urge will hit!!!—as well as a cool Saints koozie to which I attached the BTE pin; a BTE decal; a Krewe of Rocckus custom bead (Rocckus on!); two bags of jalapeno cheese puffs; a mini Tabasco bottle, and a praline.
Welcome To Camp!
The praline and one bag of jalapeno ‘Cheetos’ disappeared as I unpacked, but once settled in I headed out for a walk down Tchoupitoulas. Pronounced ‘chop-i-too-lus,’ this street has followed the riverbank since the very founding of the city yet no one seems to quite know what it means. There are many words from local Native American languages that resemble Tchoupitoulas but none that are exact matches, [Read more…]
LIKE A BAD PENNY
Well, I finally arrived in New Orleans (actually Metairie) at 9:30 last night where Captain Billy and Peggy, my friend Mark’s parents, so graciously fed me and put me up for the night. In a few minutes I’m heading to the Hilton at the foot of Poydras to check into my Rocckus room, (as opposed to Romper Room, one of my favorite shows of youth–appropriate as Mardi Gras is one big grownup Romper Room!) , but will return later this week. The Captain and Peggy also put me up for Mardi Gras 2011 (you can see their picture on the WHY page) and again for Jazzfest last year. Now here I am again. I can’t say enough about their generous hearts and bountiful hospitality, a trait found throughout New Orleans–one of the many reasons I love this city. I just hope they don’t come to regret it! I’ve had such a wonderful time every time I’ve stayed here that I just keep turning up like that proverbial bad penny!
OPERATION ENDURING BEAD-DOM
“[Mardi Gras is] a year of preparation and perspiration that unfolds over several weeks like a military campaign hell-bent on spreading heaven throughout the darkest months of the year.” –quoted from WHAT Is ‘My Year of Mardi Gras?
Is it arrogant or improper to quote myself?! Oh, well. I’m at Mardi Gras now so I’ll bet my lucky boxers worse sins are being committed as I write.
I include this quote, though, because it’s a bit of writing of which I’m proud. I think it’s quite a good descriptor of what Mardi Gras is and what it aims to accomplish. Despite the bad publicity it receives, Mardi Gras is a collective celebration of life that focuses the energy of an entire city towards the powers of light and goodness. That’s alright by me. The world would be a better place if more communities focused their collective creativity and energy on communal festivity. The world needs more, not less Mardi Gras, so let ‘Operation Enduring Bead-dom’ begin!
MODERN-DAY CONQUISTADOR SEEKING THE FOUNTAIN OF VERMOUTH
I’m currently lost somewhere in the Florida panhandle taking a blog break in a fast food joint I’d never frequent were it not for my need for connectivity. (Bad food; Good marketing!) Well, actually I’m outside Pensacola, but it sounds more romantic to imagine I’m an early Spanish explorer uncertain of just where in the swamp I am. In the age of GPS, getting lost is becoming nostalgia–a memory to be rescued from the shelves of dusty antique shops by thrill-seekers craving a bygone rush.
I left Jacksonville at 10:30 this morning feeling about half as prepared [Read more…]
A HIPPIE, A HOBO, OR A MIDLIFE CRISIS?!
This morning I awoke unemployed. By choice. This is the first time in five and a half years I haven’t gone in to work at Sterling House and Clare Bridge of Jacksonville, two assisted living facilities housing adults with dementia and/or failing health where I worked as an Occupational Therapist and Coordinator for Physical, Occupational, & Speech Therapies. I worked with with special needs children in schools for five and a half years prior to that, so this is the first time in eleven years I’ve awoken without a job as a therapist. And it’s the first time I’ve been unemployed without the excuse of grad school since 1998 (and that was not by choice.)
Every hobo’s journey begins with a first step…and a first beer!
This plan has been percolating for nearly a year but it feels surreal now that the seed of what was once just a crazy idea (for I ALWAYS have crazy ideas percolating) has grown to fruition. The rush of emotions I’m experiencing is as diverse as the interests that spurred me to cut bait and chase my muse. I’m excited, scared, sad at the relationships I’m leaving behind, eager to make new connections, optimistic, hesitant, confused, overwhelmed, focused, confident and, strangely, a bit guilty. In a time when so many people are desperately unemployed, I feel a twinge of guilt walking away from a secure, well-paying job, even if it was driving me nuts. My burnout has been smoldering for years and deep down I knew I wasn’t as effective as I once was, but that’s just a poppycock excuse to the depression-era generation whom I served.
ELVIS, ANGELS, TANKS & TEARS
My Fellow Coordinators Bidding Me Farewell At Bold City Brewery
Yesterday I walked away from my secure and well paying job as an Occupational Therapist and Therapy Coordinator to pursue a lifelong dream without any guaranteed means of income or safety net. This morning, as the reality washes over me, I’m a little fearful, a little sad, a little relieved, and a little hungover. The other coordinators from sister communities in the Jacksonville network accompanied me to some of my favorite brew-pubs last night for one last blowout and the catharsis was much needed and appreciated. Despite working in different communities and communicating primarily through email, we’re quite a close bunch. In fact, from the team I supervise, to the staff in my communities, to the patients living in my communities, to the fellow supervisors throughout my region, I couldn’t have asked for a better group of people to work with, which is why I teared up several times this past week despite how relieved I am to leave the stress behind.
The team I supervise is compromised of four therapists, all attractive females, who referred to themselves as ‘Eric’s Angels’ in a humorous [Read more…]