Week in Review – May 31st, 2026

“Sail 250 – tall ships in New Orleans”

On Monday, Sheri really wanted a Muffuletta sandwich (a classic New Orleans original) before leaving, and so we met at Cochon Butcher which has great sandwiches and sausages.  I agree with Diana that while those at Butcher are good, they’re not a whole lot better than one you can pick up easily at several of the local markets.  I’m confident Denny would strenuously object to that opinion.

Here’s a video of Phil Rosenthal meeting up with Wendell Pierce (famous New Orleans actor) at Butcher:

After lunch we had agreed to meet at the Columns and sit on the porch while it rained outside.  The foursome were not able to secure a table there and so we met them at the Avenue Pub instead, where we played entertaining card games to pass the time.  Anne didn’t like the game we chose and refused to learn the rules in process – adding to the entertainment.

Later in the afternoon we migrated to the Bon Temps to play some pool.  Diana was delighted to find that her experience on Christmas day was not a fluke – they regularly carry Veuve Clicquot at a very inexpensive price.

The next stop on the moveable feast was Denny and Anne’s home for dinner.  Denny whipped up his usual yummy spread – hangar steak and shrimp/salami kebabs, harissa carrots on yogurt, salad, chimichurri sauce.  He really is a master with his sauces.  The foursome left to play trivia after dinner.  We were too tired and so stayed back to clean up and then headed home.  They got to trivia late (close to halftime) and were still able to secure third place – very impressive.

Diana had pickleball on Tuesday morning and I met Sheri and Sean at Juan’s Flying Burrito for lunch.  Diana joined after she finished to share my Luau quesadilla (shrimp, pineapple, etc. and my favourite thing on their menu.)  Our visitors left for the airport right after lunch – Sean to Dallas for work and Sheri back to San Jose.

At trivia on Tuesday evening, we tied for first place.  The final question involved putting four Chinese cities (Delhi, Calcutta, Mumbai, and Bangalore) in order from North to South.  Nobody was sure and we all had different answers, so our team captain decided to bet zero – a wise decision that paid off.  The tiebreak question asked when George H.W. Bush was born.  Whoever got closest to the date won.  We chose June, 1922 and the answer was June 12, 1924.  We were close but the other team got within a couple of days of the correct answer.  Chatting with them afterwards, one team member admitted to having a photographic memory and remembering having read the date somewhere.  Is it fair for folks with photographic memories to play trivia?  Discuss amongst yourselves.

Diana had her usual Wednesday yoga session in the park.  She and Kara met up for oysters and snacks at the Pascal’s Manale Happy Hour – ostensibly to use an expiring coupon that I was supposed to use for our New Year’s Eve catering and forgot about.

Sail 250 hit New Orleans on Thursday.  This is a collection of tall sailing ships from various countries that have come together to celebrate the 250th anniversary of America.

Sail 250 New Orleans

We decided to be early birds on Thursday afternoon and try to beat the inevitable crowds for a free event.  I parked at the Jazz Museum with the understanding that the ships would be lined up from the Bywater to downtown.  Oops – they were all clustered downtown around the aquarium area – so we had a nice mile plus walk down the riverfront – would be fine if it wasn’t so humid.

 

We boarded the “Union” a gorgeous ship from Peru.  The sailors were all so young and smart in their dress white uniforms.

They were kind enough to give us some time at the helm:

The thought of climbing up the rigging to unfurl the sails made me queasy.

This was such a nice event and I’m sure the sailors will say they were welcomed better and entertained more in New Orleans than on their next stops in Virginia, New York, and Boston.

After the excitement of the tall ships we tried the Happy Hour at the new Charmant restaurant by City Park.  I had read reviews, looked at the menu and thought we would enjoy it.

And enjoy we did.  The food and cocktails were excellent and at a very good price.  Diana absolutely loved the wagyu burger, as did I, and we both thought the savory bread pudding was creative and delicious.

We will be back soon to try their brunch and dinner menus.

I watched the San Antonio Spurs tie up their semi-final 7 game series 3-3 on Thursday night.  I used to love going to their games when we lived in San Antonio and it’s been a number of years since they had such a good team.  Very young and inexperienced, and very good.

Diana had 3 hours of pickleball on Friday – just can’t get enough.  In the evening we were planning to see the blues master, Marc Stone, at the Constantinople porch stage.  We parked easily and saw there was nobody there.  The host was on his porch and let us know we had the wrong day – not until Sunday.  Geez – I rarely get the dates and times wrong.

No worries – I had a plan B.  Fred and Kelly had send out a text that they were going for drinks at the Gilded Perch.  We drove over there and had a fun discussion on the porch while it poured buckets around us.

Saturday began with a walk in the park in the already humid weather.  Then we stopped at the store for supplies to make our chopped chickpea Italian salad.  That was our offering for Greg’s pool party later in the afternoon.

We had a really nice group at Greg’s and Diana was reminded of how much she likes hanging out in a pool for the afternoon – not helpful, Greg.

I watched the last game of the NBA semi-finals when we got home on Saturday evening.  The Spurs beat Oklahoma on the road!  What a great performance.  Now they face the New York Knicks in the finals.

Sunday again began with a walk in the park.  Didn’t seem quite a humid as Saturday.

I’m currently watching the French Open tennis – an excellent battle between Rudd and Fonseca – tiebreak in the second set.

Earlier in the week in California, Luciano had a graduation and the other two were as supportive as ever:

I finally finished up “Doxology” by Nell Zink this week.  You probably know by now that if it takes me more than two weeks to finish a book, it doesn’t have me engaged and excited.  This GoodReads review kind of summed up my thoughts:

“It’s an achievement in itself to write a political/family novel that features strange lo-fi anti-folk nerd bands from lower Manhattan and that I still don’t like: This meandering tale introduces us to an American family where the parents have roots in the musical counterculture, but then flourish in the tech upper middle class, while their millennial daughter tries to help save the environment by becoming a political activist. So yes, Zink apparently tries to reflect society and changing attitudes by describing different generations (including the grandparents) over time, but nevertheless, the book has pretty much nothing to say: If you look for a stringent narrative concept, a message, surprising twists and thoughts or elegant prose, this is not your book. It is very readable and it’s not like I had to force myself to finish it, but the world did not need this novel – sorry, Nell Zink.”
I had highlighted a number of areas in this book and will limit my sharing to just a few.
A paragraph on music that I loved – I don’t know many people that have ever heard of Roky Erickson – a wonderful artist who lost his mind.
“Eloise fled toward the stage, where Joe was launching into his encore, “Splash 1” by the 13th Floor Elevators. He saw her and stared at her. He sang the entire song looking into her eyes.  The rock repertoire includes several songs an informed person might call romantic, such as “God Only Knows” by the Beach Boys, but few can compete with “Splash,” the work of a mystic at the height of his powers. Soon after its composition, those powers defeated Roky Erickson, and he turned his genius to the service of the devil and the Martian voice in his head, but in “Splash” he was as yet untainted.”
I loved this phrase:
“You’re an irrepressible font of nay-saying pessimism,” he said. “It’s weird, coming from somebody who’s about to have a baby.”

Miles Davis would have been 100 this week.  I enjoyed this article about his career:

Miles at 100 article

I loved this chat with Boz Scaggs about the recording of “Loan me a dime.”

Loan me a dime – Scaggs talks about recording with Duane Allman

And finally some Tedeschi Trucks band – an amazing Sly and the Family Stone medley:

Week in Review – May 24th, 2026

“Meeksies Visit and Happy Birthday to me”

Paul, a financial advisor that Denny and I share, invited us to lunch at Porgy’s seafood restaurant.  I had never been and was looking forward to it based on all the positive reviews.  The place is run exclusively by ladies and they were busy cleaning and stocking fish when we arrived.  They have a few daily specials based on what’s fresh and I selected the crawfish roll.  Denny and Paul split a triggerfish (never heard of it but it looked good) and a soft shell crab sandwich.  We shared a ceviche tostada to start and I’ll go back just to have that.  It’s also one of McD’s favourites.

Here’s the fresh fish cabinet selection – not huge but a good variety:

The restaurant is fresh and modern inside:

Kenny and Kara picked me up for a drink before our event on Wednesday night.  We enjoyed the fancy inside room at the Columns.

Our event was a book reading and discussion across the street at the Garden District Book Store.  The book was the 331/3 Violent Femmes edition from Nic Brown.

For any youngsters that stumbled on this, 331/3 is the speed that a long playing (LP) record spins at.  The Violent Femmes are an 80s band best known for “Blister in the Sun” – they have a very unique style and musical makeup that was reviewed at the talk.

The group gathered in the Chicory coffee shop rather than the book store – a first and one that worked out well for a decent crowd.  It makes me wonder about the economics of these book tours.  30 people attend and buy a $15 book – the $450 wouldn’t even cover the travel expenses for Nic alone.  Maybe they think folks like us generate a bunch of buzz?

The evening finished up with a cool performance:

Diana arrived home shortly after the event concluded.  No more babysitting of me required.

Diana dropped into pickleball on Thursday while I got my teeth cleaned.  My hygienist is very pregnant (due 6/18) and I felt fortunate to get in before she goes out on leave – she does a very good job.

The Stephen Colbert show ended on Thursday night.  This is the 10:30pm show that I watch most nights before bed.  Colbert has been uber critical of Trump and became a casualty as some media moguls wanted to do a merger that needed Trump administration approval.  Paul McCartney was the main guest:

There were a couple of excellent musical performances to finish out the show.  This was at the Ed Sullivan theater where the Beatles first performed.

The Meeksies (Sean and Sheri) arrived on Friday afternoon – staying in the cottage at Chez Ogan.  They had a bit of hassle from the thunder and lightning – bags couldn’t be unloaded until the lightning passed etc.  That meant they were late to meet us and Denny at Chais Delachaise for their excellent Happy Hour.  They ultimately arrived and we had a good time.

The octopus was excellent.

After this stop, we drove over to St Joe’s bar to meet up with the extended Krewe – Alex, Thom, Fred, Kelly, Peggy, Mason, Jack, Brennen and probably several others that I don’t remember.  Diana and I didn’t stay for very long.

My birthday celebration was at N7 (possibly my top New Orleans eatery) and included Kenny, Kara, Denny, Anne, Sean and Sheri.  What a treat:

I had some beets that were deliciously smoky and charred, followed by a wonderful croque madame.  Thanks to Diana for organizing this festivity so far in advance.

After N7, Denny tried hard to entertain me – music at BMC (way too loud and no seating), R Bar (now famous for Shia LeBouef’s Mardi Gras incident) – also too loud – seemed like everyone in there was yelling to each other.  We made quick exits from both.   I took some flack for being old and intolerant – it was my birthday and I wasn’t going to do what I didn’t want to do.

We retired to our home and relaxed on the porch.  Much better.

Diana ordered some Theo’s pizzas for dinner and I had a very nice time visiting and opening gifts.

We met the group at the Red Dog diner for brunch on Sunday.  The company was good and I didn’t love my huevos rancheros – way too salty.  I’ve had a couple of dodgy meals there and have no reason to return.

Kenny picked up Diana for a French Quarter ramble with the group on Sunday afternoon.  I was happy to chill at home.  They had a good time, including a Taro reading for Sean.

I’m still working my way through “Doxology” by Nell Zink.  I don’t love it and continue to get sucked in deeper and deeper.  We’re now at 9/11 and the impact on various characters.

Here’s a review of the new Tedeschi Trucks band album.  They were a huge favourite of mine at Jazzfest – orders of magnitude better than most of what you saw there.  This is a great album.

Susan Tedeschi, Derek Trucks and their band are one of the hottest items in the blues rock world. Some write them off as a a rock band, but they are truly more than that.

I’ve watched Trucks expand his repertoire over the years. Adding his wife to the band certainly places a larger emphasis on the blues and roots music in their releases and shows. What I’ve always felt is that Derek grew up in the shadow of the Allman Brothers and internalized the essence of what Duane Allman was doing before his untimely passing. Duane spent years at Muscle Shoals and gained a superb knowledge of so many genres of music. I see what Truck has done as a continuation of where the Allman Brothers might have gone had Duane lived on.  The deep ties to the blues, the jazzy and improvisational nature of the jams that are so much more than just a local jam, the R&B infusion into the mix, the expansion of instrumental use in the music, a strong set of vocalists to lead and back the band, and just an amazing depth of knowledge and feeling for what makes music tick.

This album offers us 11 new songs to savor. Susan fronts the band for ten of the cuts and plays guitar on most of them. Mike Mattison is up front for “Under The Knife.” Trucks, of course, is on lead guitar. Mattison sings on all but one track and adds his guitar to many of them. Brandon Boone is primarily on bass; also appearing on bass is Mike Elizondo. Tyler Greenwell and Isaac Eady share the drumming duties. On B3 and keyboards is Gabe Dixon. Adding backing vocals and percussion are Alecia Chakpur and Mark Rivers. Horns are provided by Emmanuel Echem (trumpet), Elizabeth Lea (trombone) and Kebbi Williams (sax). Elizondo also adds keys to a few tracks. Austin Hoke is on cello and Abe rounds is on percussion for “Shout Out.”

“Crazy Cryin’” gets the album started. It’s a cut with a slick groove and features Tedeschi singing of a relationship that has not worked out.  It’s funky and cool, and Trucks comes in with an amazing short guitar solo late in the cut that makes it even better. Backing vocals add nicely to the mix.

Next is “I Got You” with some acoustic guitar added to the electric guitar. It’s an up tempo and fun love song. Derek offers an early restrained guitar solo. The organ and horns are sweet in support here as are the backing vocals. Trucks takes us home with a prolonged guitar solo that eventually fades to wrap it up.

“Who Am I” is a pretty ballad that Susan sings with passion as Trucks strums out some equally pretty licks with restrained poignancy until the end when he lets go to again take us home with some vibrant signature guitar to enjoy.

Up next is “Hero” is a passionate and emotional cut where Tedeshi pleads to leave where they are at as she reiterates the theme as she sings, “I’m not your hero, I’m number zero.” The song builds into a dervish of instrumental anguish to conclude, a wild ride that finally comes to resolution.

“What In The World” is another cut with sweet acoustic guitars, some ethereal organ and horns. and Tedeschi testifying with true feeling. Trucks steps in to punctuate the tune with his electric slide guitar. Beautiful stuff here.

The title track is next and picks the pace up significantly. Vibrant guitar, strident vocals and a driving beat make this one a winner. Trucks offers a concluding solo to once again finish things off and it’s in your face and it’s just wickedly cool guitar.

Mattison leads the fray for “Under the Knife,” a song with a very cool groove, great horns and a sweet pacing that makes the song interesting. Derek offers up an echoey guitar solo and Susan backs Mike to add a nice touch to the sound.

“Be Kind” bounces along  with the horns and organ helping to drive the song as the electric guitars layer over each other to cool effect. Dixon adds a sweet and distorted piano solo that is quite cool. Overall, it’s a driving and fun number.

Then it’s time for “Devil Be Gone,” as Tedeschi  casts our the devil while the guitar rings loud and clear in support of that idea. It’s a driving and vital cut with a heavy beat and the players and the singers give it their all in support. Susan and Derek take us home vocally and on guitar on this one.

“Shout Out” is a lighter track with Tedeschi shouting out to ask the person to return to her for support. It’s got a ton of feeling and the cut builds and builds in vocal and instrumental intensity to hearken the person to return.  Nicely done.

The album concludes with “Ride On,” where Tedeschi sings, ”I guess I’m just along for the ride.” The songs is a country/southern rocker that is emotive and quite slick. Slide guitar adds emotion to the sing as Trucks wails his way to the end to add to the tension and feeling.

This is another superb studio album for Tedeschi and Trucks. Every song is crafted well to allow each musician to become part of the continuum they create in every song. I truly loved this album; it is another winner for the band that will garner many an accolade for them. Well done!

Week in Review – May 17th, 2026

“A Relaxing Week – for the most part”

The week began with the usual early alarms so that Diana could make her 8am pickleball session.  Yeah!

Tuesday began with me joining a retirement financial meeting with Paul and Diana heading off to her pickleball tournament.  I followed that with a swim, steam and sauna at the New Orleans Athletic Club (NOAC) in an attempt to stretch out my back.  Trivia in the evening worked out well for me for the first time in a while.  Here’s Kenny’s scoring and notes sheet.

My contributions:  William the Conqueror, correct first names for Lamborghini and Prada, infra-red waveband, and “Francis” as the F in F. Scott Fitzgerald.  Denny wore his new “Dude” t-shirt that we got for his birthday in San Sebastian.  The design is by the same illustrator who did my Miles Davis cutout wall hanging.

The typical run and yoga in Audubon park sessions kicked off Wednesday for Diana.  Then she spent some time packing up for her trip to California.

She left for the trip to attend Ashley’s wedding on Thursday morning.  There were delays in Dallas due to weather in San Francisco, but nothing too extreme, arriving on Gypsy Hill in the early evening.

I watched the “Accidental Tourist” movie on Thursday night.  This is the 1988 adaptation of Anne Tyler’s wonderful book and stars William Hurt, Geena Davis and Kathleen Turner.  Geena Davis won the Best Supporting Actress Oscar for her performance.

This is my kind of movie – quiet, understated with deep themes and humour.

I found a recipe for the perfect “Vesper” – the James Bond drink and would have enjoyed one with the movie, but did not have the ingredients.  I’m adding it here so that I know where to find the recipe:

Friday, my first “unsupervised” day, was a busy one.  I spent the morning and early afternoon at Kenny’s rental houses.  We were trying to use my pressure washer to spray “Wet it and forget it” on the bricks and siding of the houses.  A series of unfortunate events prevented us from doing that and I’ve now ordered up what I think will be a much easier approach to accomplishing our goal.

After that frustration, Kenny took me on a tour of the Lakeview area of New Orleans (very nice and upscale) and then we shared a burger at Desi Vegas Burger house – one of the better burgers that I’ve had in a while.

In the evening, we gathered at the Bon Temps dive bar to support our friends who were running in the Barathon – a run of around 3.5 miles that visits 5 bars, where participants have to finish a beer before continuing to the next stops.  There were a surprising number of participants:

Our team:

Katherine, Fred and Brennen did a good job – coming in the top 25% in my estimation – very impressive.  How did the winners complete all of that in around 30 minutes?  Crazy.

While all of that was underway, Diana was making the trip from Pacifica to Gardnerville, Nevada.  Julie was almost on time for the departure and they made reasonable time on the 4+ hour drive.

I met Chris Peet at Casimiro for breakfast on Saturday.  This is a new brunch place from the ladies that operate Acamaya (one of my top 5 New Orleans restaurants.)  Mexican breakfast dishes are one of my favourite food groups.  We started with the Tetela de Hongos al Ajillo (triangles of corn masa stuffed with mushrooms and served with salsa verde and crema – I will be back just for these.  Then I had the chilaquiles with chicken – ridiculously good and enough to eat all day long.

We both tried the Cafe de Olla – coffee with cinnamon, spices and a slight sweetness – I had two and it was not Chris’ thing.

I really enjoyed catching up with Chris – been a while since we got time for a nice chat.

Denny and Anne invited me over for dinner on Saturday evening.  Chef Denny did his usual amazing job – hanger steak, gnocchi with spinach, and carrots on a Greek yogurt base.  It’s nice to have friends that worry about me when Diana is gone.

Here are some pictures from Ashley and Nick’s wedding in Nevada:

It seems that Diana had a good time and is glad she made the effort to attend.

A week after Mother’s Day and Diana’s flowers from Alicia are still going strong.  I’ve been changing out the water and adding ice cubes – apparently the secret to elongated life.

 

My book this week was “Doxology” by Nell Zink.  The online review says “this novel follows three friends – Pam, Daniel, and Joe – through the 1980s and 90s New York City music scene, exploring their relationships, the impact of 9/11, and the subsequent political landscape through the eyes of their daughter, Flora, as she grows up and becomes an activist. The book is an ambitious, generational saga that contrasts the punk-rock idealism of their youth with the political realities of post-9/11 America, touching on themes of family, fame, and the search for meaning. “

I find this book equally entertaining and clever with the musical references, and at the same time overly New York Times hipsterish and trying too hard.  I’m about 30% complete and will try to stick with it and have more to report next week.

I did find an interesting reference to Jane Birkin and the role she played in creating the Hermes Birkin bag.  This was a trivia clue that I knew because we sold so many of those ridiculously expensive bags in our stores.

Spotify shared some data this week – the first song that I listened to on the platform and how many since:

Let’s see – 31,500 songs over 12 years = 2,625 songs/year.  That’s a little over 200 songs/month and 7 songs/day – sounds about right.

I read an article about the albums that most influenced Tom Waits:

Some very good ones in that list.

Week in Review – May 10th, 2026

“Happy Mother’s Day”

As you can tell, I’m way behind on the blog again – worst ever.  Given that, this will be a short and concise post.

I tried to have an MRI early on Monday morning and they didn’t have the right kind of anesthesia.  Will have to be rescheduled at a different location.

Diana had pickleball on Tuesday and Saturday.

We had a couple of maintenance appointments on Tuesday – I had my hearing aids checked and Diana had a checkup at the orthodontist – no issues with either visit.

I had a haircut on Friday, followed by a visit to Juan’s Flying Burrito next door for a Luau (shrimp, pineapple etc) quesadilla.  Diana enjoyed some leftovers.  My barber is going to be out for a few weeks and so I got an extra short trim.

Kenny and Kara joined us for dinner and a movie on Saturday evening.  Both Diana and Kara had read “Remarkably Bright Creatures” and were looking forward to the movie version.  This is a book/movie about Marcellus the octopus in captivity in the Seattle area and the work he does to try and help the humans who take care of him every day.

Sally Field is the star and the scene that I remember most is her going on a date with a guy who wears his prized Grateful Dead t-shirt.  She thinks he was dressed like a slob, not realizing that he took the shirt, worth several thousand dollars, out of a frame to wear it on the date.

Diana, with a little help from me, made a chopped chickpea Mediterranean salad and sablefish.  Kara brought dessert that we enjoyed with carajillos (espresso and Liquor 43.)

Alicia had some beautiful flowers delivered for Mother’s Day:

We enjoyed Sunday Mother’s Day brunch at Cafe Degas – perhaps Diana’s favourite New Orleans restaurant – it’s what The Grape used to be for her in Dallas.

We ordered way too much food and had yummy leftovers for several days.

My book this week was the wonderful “The Things We Never Say” by Elizabeth Strout.  While not my very favourite of her books, it is still a remarkable accomplishment.  Highly recommended.  I read it in just over a day and look forward to revisiting parts of it.  Here’s an accurate online review:

“Artie Dam is living a double life. He spends his days teaching history to eleventh graders, expanding their young minds, correcting their casual cruelties, and lending a kind word to those who need it most. He goes to holiday parties with his wife of three decades, makes small talk with neighbors, and, on weekends, takes his sailboat out on the beautiful Massachusetts Bay. He is, by all appearances, present and alive. But inside, Artie is plagued by feelings of isolation. He looks out at a world gone mad—at himself and the people around him—and turns a question over and over in his mind: How is it that we know so little about one another, even those closest to us?

And then, one day, Artie learns that life has been keeping a secret from him, one that threatens to upend his entire world. Once he learns it, he is forced to chart a new course, to reconsider the relationships he holds most dear—and to make peace with the mysteries at the heart of our existence.

Elizabeth Strout, as we have come to expect, delivers a moving exploration of the human condition—one that brims with compassion for each and every one of her indelible characters. With exquisite prose and profound insight, The Things We Never Say takes one man’s fears and loneliness and makes them universal. And in the same breath, captures the abiding love that sustains and holds us all.”

Here’s something from the trumpeter with the super high register and the funky band, Maynard Ferguson:

A track from my favourite band at jazzfest, the understated and laid back Deslondes:

Week in Review – April 5th, 2026

“University Reunion”

Diana’s week started out with a long walk and after that she was ready for a nice lunch at the Laird’s table outside Fenwick.  This is the restaurant with views out onto a fly-fishing lake.  We enjoyed a delicious lunch with all three of us trying different seafood dishes.  Here’s a picture Diana took after lunch:

After lunch we made a trip to the Marks and Spencer’s Food store in the Newton Mearns mall.  This is a wonderful store, quite unlike anything we find in the US.  So many pre-packaged meals, cheeses, meats, and everything else you could hope for.  We picked out some lunch and dinner treats.  After that, we made a short side trip to B&Q home store to look for a new magnetic shower door strip.  That was a no-go – only available online.

Diana ventured out into the Scottish countryside again for a long run and walk on Tuesday morning.  Then we drove Mum’s car through to Edinburgh to meet up with my university friends for our 41st graduation anniversary get together.

We walked across to the Beehive pub ahead of our scheduled 7pm meeting time.  I was in line to order a drink when I received a WhatsApp message from Euan.  Thankfully that included a picture and a description of where he was sitting and the colour of shirt he was wearing.  I went across and introduced myself.  Bobby and Kirsty showed up a short while later and then Fiona and Patrick.  We made our way across the street to the restaurant at the Apex hotel.  The hotel is a remodel of the Heriot-Watt Mountbatten building where we studied Electrical Engineering all those 41 years ago.  The ramp that we walked up to enter the building is still there – now the handicapped entrance.  We walked up and noticed the red wall where our results were posted outside Dr. Davidson’s (head of electrical engineering department) office.

Left to right – Fiona, Bobby, and Euan.

Dinner was very enjoyable, the restaurant occupying what was one of two large lecture theaters in the building.

We reminisced about a “presentation skills” class we had taken in that theater all those years ago.  Euan talked about his experiences digging graves as a summer job, I shared how sound wavelengths operate in brass instruments (with live tuba and trombone demonstrations), Bobby discussed a new album that his country dancing band had released, and Fiona talked about gemstones with foils from a local museum.

All of the group are retired now (quite an achievement given we average 62) with Euan doing some occasional consulting with early-stage high tech startups.

This was a lovely evening from start to finish.  We’ll have to get together sooner if it’s going to happen again in these lifetimes.

We had a workout on Wednesday morning, followed by a “healthy” breakfast at a place called Hula in the Grassmarket.  I had a falafel bowl that was huge and delicious and brought a good bit of it home for later.  The drive back to Mum’s was smooth and easy, with a quick stop into Marks and Spencer for some special cookies and other snacks.  We chuckled at the alternatives to easter eggs:

We visited the Dunlops (Jeanette and Robert) on Thursday afternoon.  These are good friends of Mum’s who live one street away.  I babysat their children at least once many years ago.  We had a very enjoyable chat, with an “online shop” showing up during our visit.  This was included:

Prosecco without the alcohol.  Diana was horrified.  It’s also “suitable for vegans” according to the label.

Mum made beef olives for dinner on Thursday.  Ever heard of them?  Care to guess what they look like?

They are a Scottish dish of thin beef steaks wrapped around sausage meat, stuffing or even haggis.

Why the “olive” in the name?  There are no olives in the recipe.  It’s not clear to me – some online postings talk about the stuffed beef wrap looking like an olive – I’m not sure I see that.  Despite all of that, these made for a delicious dinner.

Julie and Robin invited us over to dinner on Friday evening.  We were joined by Lorna and Russell.

Dinner was a team effort – chicken tikka masala and naan bread by Julie, fancy rice with cinnamon sticks from Robin, and a raspberry meringue roulade from Lorna – all wonderful.

Lots of fun stories were shared.  It’s really such a lovely group.  The “Morgan” was mentioned several times during the evening, and Diana was confused about what that might be.  Any car enthusiasts reading that know?  Robin demonstrated as we were getting bundled up to leave – “Oh, It’s a Chitty Chitty Bang Bang,” said Diana.

Morgans are really unique.  They are still built using ash wood for the frame and are largely built by hand in the Malvern, England factory – the same one has been used for over 100 years.  Only a few hundred are built each year and the wait time can last up to 10 years.

We walked home a little after midnight (brrr!) and apparently missed the “clues” that were left to indicate that we were expecting a visit from Heather, Michael, and Hamish.

Meanwhile, back in New Orleans, Kara and Chris Peet, along with Nina, Ian and Hannah, were all running in the Crescent City Classic 10K.  There were over 20,000 runners involved.

Kara came across Chris and ran with the Love flag for a while.

We enjoyed a visit from Hamish, Heather and Michael on Saturday morning.  Diana was out for a run before major storm “Dave” arrived in the afternoon.  She returned in time to enjoy some Hamish time, including learning a new song about winding up a bobbin and pointing to the ceiling, floor, window and door.

Sunday was a long travel day.  Our regular taxi driver shared the audio of this Tom Jones performance as we were talking to him about Jazzfest experiences.

We were a bit nervous on seeing very limited visibility and sleet/snow from the airport lounge.

As we’ve learned, no reason to get too concerned as the weather will change in a few minutes.  True to form, the sun was out in ten minutes.

I’m always amazed at the quality of the service on the short flight from Glasgow to London.  We were presented with a food and drink menu and some delicious food.  Even a special Easter dessert.  The transatlantic folks could learn a lot from the folks working these flights.

We did not need to go through additional security or change terminals in London.  That meant more time in the lounge, Diana enjoying the selection of champagnes.

The menu on the transatlantic flight included a chicken tikka pie (reprising Julie’s dinner) and a carrot and ginger soup (Mum made this too).  I enjoyed them both.

I was trying to make some progress on Fred’s World War II book on the flight.  I was entertained to read of some characters trying to escape Spain via a ship from Bilbao with a stop at Saint-Jean-de-Luz – neither of which I would have known about prior to our holiday.

Clearing immigration in New Orleans couldn’t have been any easier – probably a much better option than going through Dublin.  After a short Uber ride we were finally home.  All seemed in order with our house.

I read in the newspaper that Easter Sunday has become a big day in the French Quarter – it certainly seems that way from the pictures.

Being in Edinburgh brough me back to Ian Rankin and his John Rebus books.  I don’t think I ever read the original in the series, “Knots and Crosses.”

A paragraph that sets the scene for typical Scottish weather – “grass percolating water.”
“It was April 28th. Wet, naturally, the grass percolating water as John Rebus walked to the grave of his father, dead five years to the day. He placed a wreath so that it lay, yellow and red, the colours of remembrance, against the still shining marble. He paused for a moment, trying to think of things to say, but there seemed nothing to say, nothing to think. He had been a good enough father and that was that. The old man wouldn’t have wanted him to waste his words in any case. So he stood there, hands respectfully behind his back, crows laughing on the walls around him, until the water seeping into his shoes told him that there was a warm car waiting for him at the cemetery gates.”
A good football reference – it was all midfield:
“He was growing tired, realising that the game was going nowhere. It was all midfield, a friendly rather than a cup-tie. He checked his watch conspicuously. “Time I was getting back,” he said. She picked up her newspaper. “Are you doing anything this weekend?” she asked. John Rebus sat down again.”
Maybe I need to take up Rebus’ rule – if I don’t like a book in ten pages, then move on?
“Rebus collected unread books. Once upon a time, he had actually read the books that he bought, but these days he seemed to have so little time. Also, he was more discriminating now than he had been then, back in the old days when he would read a book to its bitter end whether he liked it or not. These days, a book he disliked was unlikely to last ten pages of his concentration.”
Typical Rebus thinking – not wanting to play the part of a normal human animal:
“Often he declined invitations, because to accept meant that he had to dust off his brogues, iron a shirt, brush down his best suit, take a bath, and splash on some cologne. He had also to be affable, to drink and be merry, to talk to strangers with whom he had no inclination to talk and with whom he was not being paid to talk. In other words, he resented having to play the part of a normal human animal.”
A flash back to Denny and Anne in Edinburgh – their catacombs tour educated them about Deacon Brodie and we paid a visit to the pub on the Royal Mile:
“The British press had cottoned onto the fact that Edinburgh had a rather less than genteel past. They ran reminders of Deacon Brodie (the inspiration, it was said, behind Stevenson’s Jekyll & Hyde), Burke and Hare, and anything else that came to light in their researches, right down to the ghosts that haunted a suspicious number of the city’s Georgian houses.
The typical postcard home from an Edinburgh boarding-house: “Edinburgh is lovely. The people rather reserved. Saw the Castle yesterday, and the Scott Monument. It’s a very small city, almost a town really. You could fit it inside
New York and never notice it. Weather could be better.” Weather could be better. The art of euphemism.”
A walk down memory lane for me – I made the walk from Marchmont, across the Meadows, past the Royal Infirmary and Greyfriars Bobby every day on my way to University:
“From his flat in Marchmont to the library could be a delightful walk, showing the strengths of Edinburgh as a city. He passed through a verdant open area called The Meadows, and on the skyline before him stood the great grey Castle, a flag blowing in the fine rain over its ramparts. He passed the Royal Infirmary, home of discoveries and famous names, part of the University, Greyfriars Kirkyard and the tiny statue of Greyfriars Bobby. How many years had that little dog lain beside its master’s grave?”
I was watching a Fleetwood Mac documentary and this wonderful song came on.  Peter Green was such a genius:

Week in Review – March 29th, 2026

Second week in San Sebastian

Monday was a bit of a fancy and refined day here.  Diana started with her usual walk/run along the beach.  We went grocery shopping in the afternoon and stopped in for a mid-afternoon drink at La Cervezeria around the corner.  I got a kick out of the young girl next to us taking videos of herself eating pintxos – typical of the generation.
I found a martini bar and we gave it a try.  It’s inside a very fancy hotel and did indeed make a very good martini.  Bette Davis made one of her final appearances at this hotel to accept an award.
We walked from the martini bar over to dinner at Bernardo Extea.  I found this place through searches for good seafood restaurants.  This place was described as the best seafood in a quiet and unpretentious setting – perfect.  It turned out to be just so.  Our waiter’s recommendations were very good.  Diana had shrimp carpaccio for an appetizer, and I had a half portion of foie gras – still a lot.
Diana had tri-colour scallops for her main and I enjoyed a wonderful grilled monkfish (another waiter recommendation):
There was an ecossaise (Scottish) coffee on the menu and so I had to give it a try – very similar to a cafe liegeois with whisky added.
Here’s Diana as we were leaving with the restaurant sign:
And here she is walking home through the lovely tunnel close to our apartment (usually has a musician during the day).  We couldn’t find the taxi rank by the restaurant and so walked home.
On Tuesday, we made a day trip to Bilbao with the primary intent of visiting the Guggenheim art museum.
On our walk from the bus station to the Guggenheim, we passed the Maurice Ravel school.  I looked up the Ravel/Bilbao connection:
I had no idea about that connection.  We visited the town his Mum was from last week on our drive back from Biarritz.
I wondered about the connection between the Manhattan and Bilbao Guggenheim museums and looked that up too:
“The Bilbao effect” – how interesting.
I will say that on our 1.5 mile walk from the bus station to the museum, it was very clear that we were in a big city versus the enclave of San Sebastian – people speak much louder, car horns honk and so on.  We have been so spoiled by the peacefulness of our location.
We were just talking about the museum, and Diana says it is definitely the best one that she’s been to “inside and out.”  The Frank Gehry architecture is truly amazing.  Here are some pictures, including the flower ensconced “Puppy.”
The exhibits inside were equally impressive and unique. The first one that we visited was called “The Matter of Time” by Richard Serra.  All the guides said that if we only saw one thing, this should be it.
The exhibit was huge and you certainly did lose perspective when walking through the curved steel structures.
Here’s a view from above to give some scale:
I really enjoyed the visiting exhibit from Ruth Asawa who creates sculptures from wire.
You can look at the sculptures for a while and still struggle to see how she put them together.  This exhibit made me think of Finn’s fiancée, Holly, who also creates 3D scultpures.
“And the City Stood in its Brightness” by Mark Leckey was a multi-media exhibit with the city, music, and light all playing together.
 I didn’t capture the name of the artist who created the light box mirror art.  It was amazing inside.
Here’s one last picture from the museum – me posing with “maman”:
After browsing the museum, we had lunch (the ensalada mixta is a new favourite) and then walked to the funicular to get a view from above the city.  The red Bilbao sign at the start of this message was at the top.  Diana got this picture of the Guggenheim from above.
The bus (with zero legroom) dropped us back in San Sebastian just before 7pm.  It was good to relax and stretch out.
I made another attempt to taste the Turkish eggs at Cafe Somos on Wednesday morning.  The last time I tried the small place was packed with no available tables.  The weather was not as great on Wednesday – overcast and a bit cooler, so I was able to get an outside table with no problem.
Such a delicious breakfast.
On the walk back to the apartment, I snapped this picture of Diana’s favourite bakery – the baguette available around 4pm and just warm from the oven is the best that I’ve had.
We braved the elements for a late lunch at La Perla, the fancy beachfront restaurant (the only one built on the beach.)  Here’s the Nook of the North just before we entered:
The view of the bay from the table was very nice.
I took advantage of all the mirrors to capture a silly selfie:
Lunch was yet another gastronomic delight.  We started with truffled egg and mushrooms – amazing.  Do you know how they make a truffled egg?  I just learned on this trip – they sit truffles on top of the eggs for several days and the flavour of the truffle seeps into the eggs.
That was followed by octopus on a smoky paprika sauce – also amazingly good.
A pretty restaurant on the beach could easily serve mediocre food at a high price.  La Perla does neither – creative, beautifully cooked, and reasonably priced.
Back at the apartment, we watched an episode of “Parts Unknown” where Anthony Bourdain explains why San Sebastian is the best place to eat in Europe.  It was fun to see him rambling through the places that we have enjoyed.
This protest passed by the street in front of our apartment before we headed out to lunch.  We guess it was a Palestinian protest from the flags:
We did the usual walk down to Old Town in the afternoon on Thursday – Bar Sport had just reopened and we had a couple of specific pintxos there that we were looking forward to trying.  One was recommended by Chandler who just opened a new Basque restaurant in New Orleans.  He visited San Sebastian for “research” prior to opening and loved the foie gras at Bar Sport.  This is the most popular pintxo bar and was still busy when we showed up deep into siesta time.  We started with the cream of sea urchin – something completely new and delicious.
That was followed by the much-vaunted foie gras a la plancha.  Equally delicious and worth braving the bustle of the establishment.
I popped into a barber shop for a beard trim and ended up getting an overall trim.  The barber was originally from Nicaragua, spent ages 15-19 in Minnesota and ended up in San Sebastian.  Really interesting guy who was quite the perfectionist with my beard.
We had a couple of more pintxos and then a coffee at one of the lovely Parisian style outdoor cafes on the square.  Then I helped Diana find the shop with the top she wanted to buy, picked up a slice of Basque cheesecake to try before we left, and some wonderful art.
David Bowie was on the beach today:
Diana suggested a final stop at La Perla on the walk back and we captured some last beach pictures.
And we weren’t quite finished yet.  “I just want one more of those tuna tartare pintxos from the Cervezeria across from the apartment.”  Diana’s favourite food groups:
Doesn’t look like tuna?  I know – they had a steak tartare special that couldn’t be resisted.  Quickly followed by the tuna:
Friday was a full and relatively smooth travel day.  Taxi from apartment to bus station (10 minutes), bus to Bilbao airport (1 hour 15 minutes), flight to Amsterdam (2 hours), layover and hike to next gate in Amsterdam (2 hours), flight to Glasgow (1 hour), bumble around trying to get eSIM to work (30 minutes), taxi to Mum’s home (40 minutes).  Time to relax – ahhh.
My brother-in-law, David, turned 60 years old on Saturday and Mum organized a lovely lunch at the Blair to celebrate.  This is a delicious restaurant out in the country on the way to Kilwinning.  It was noted that the twisty country road to get there was “not appropriate for speeding.”
We found a 3D creative picture for David in San Sebastian.  That’s the local beach in the background and then beachgoers and finally Sean Connery and his Aston Martin with surfboard in the foreground.
Back at the house, David showed that he still has sufficient oomph to blow out the candle:
My grandnephew, Hamish, was having a great time with the attention from everybody:
He’s such a happy and easy wee boy.
Sunday was a quiet and relaxing day with pretty miserable weather, interspersed with brief periods of sunshine.  A cold wind and rain kept us inside most of the day, with Diana starting a jigsaw puzzle.
Missing New Orleans, and particularly the omnipresent live music, I reread “Groove Interrupted – Loss, Renewal, and the Music of New Orleans” by Keith Spera.  He covers music for the local newspaper and I really love his writing.  Here’s an online summary before I dive into some of the quotes from the chapters about how local musicians were impacted by Hurricane Katrina:
“The recent history of New Orleans is fraught with tragedy and triumph. Both are reflected in the city’s vibrant, idiosyncratic music community. In Keith Spera’s intimately reported Groove Interrupted, Aaron Neville returns to New Orleans for the first time after Hurricane Katrina to bury his wife. Fats Domino improbably rambles around Manhattan to promote a post-Katrina tribute CD. Alex Chilton lives anonymously in a battered cottage in the Treme neighborhood. Platinum-selling rapper Mystikal rekindles his career after six years in prison. Jazz trumpeter Terence Blanchard struggles to translate Katrina into music. The spotlight also shines on Allen Toussaint, Pete Fountain, Gatemouth Brown, the Rebirth Brass Band, Phil Anselmo, Juvenile, Jeremy Davenport and the 2006 New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival. With heartache, hope, humor and resolve, each of these contemporary narratives stands on its own. Together, they convey that the funky, syncopated spirit of New Orleans music is unbreakable, in spite of Katrina’s interruption.”
A description at the start of the book:
“Often described as the northernmost point of the Caribbean, New Orleans is unique among North American cities. A commingling of French, Spanish and various African cultures—coupled with a port town’s naturally decadent inclinations—cultivated a healthy appetite for food and music. The vibrant, idiosyncratic music community is essential to its hometown’s
identity, and to the larger world of popular music.”
I agree with Dave Matthews on the “most musical city”:
“The Dave Matthews Band recorded its Big Whiskey & the GrooGrux King CD in New Orleans in 2009. Matthews, a frequent visitor, subsequently declared New Orleans “the most musical city that I’ve ever been to. Somehow it’s in the roots and in the ground in New Orleans. It’s in the blood. It’s in the celebration, and the suffering.” The recent history of New Orleans, of course, contains plenty of both.”
Some passages about the immediate aftermath of Katrina:
“Roaming Uptown the day after the storm, I was heartened to discover Tipitina’s, the city’s flagship music club, largely undisturbed on a swath of high, dry ground along the Mississippi River. From the street, the nearby home of legendary keyboardist Art Neville—founder of seminal funk band the Meters, a Neville Brother, and one of New Orleans’ most beloved musicians—also appeared undamaged.”
“The earliest post-storm gigs, such as blues/ funk/ soul guitarist Walter “Wolfman” Washington’s at the Maple Leaf, were powered by generators and cut short by curfews.”
“Katrina blew Soul Rebels Brass Band snare drummer Lumar LeBlanc and trumpeter Marcus Hubbard to Houston. They found housing, enrolled their kids in school and decided to stay. But six-plus years after Katrina, they still drive 350 miles each way between Houston and New Orleans for the Rebels’ weekly Thursday night gig at Le Bon Temps Roule, a roadhouse-like bar on Magazine Street. Maintaining that connection is essential, whatever the toll on their vehicles’ odometers. “We still consider New Orleans our home,” LeBlanc said. “I’m New Orleans till the day I die.””
A passage about Clarence “Gatemouth” Brown featuring two fo my favourite musicians, Marcia Ball and Joe Krown:
“The next night, he accompanied Krown to the fabled New Orleans nightclub Tipitina’s to see Austin rhythm-and-blues pianist Marcia Ball, an old friend. Ball embraced Brown for a long good-bye hug. “Gate’s going out the way he wants—in the clubs,” Krown said. “It’s not even about playing. He just wants to be out there, around music he likes, as much as he possibly can. And he’s doing exactly that.””
Some words about the 2006 Jazzfest, the first after Katrina:
“On the festival’s first Sunday, my wife and I stood in the field facing the main Acura Stage alongside a half-dozen writers and journalists. Like me, they had witnessed countless concerts, and were not easily moved. By the conclusion of Springsteen’s tour de force with his Seeger Sessions Band, all of us—myself, my wife, the other writers—were weeping. It felt wonderful.”
“For two glorious hours, Springsteen and the Seeger Sessions ensemble—six horns, a banjo, accordion, pedal steel guitar, fiddles, piano—invigorated vintage folk and protest songs. Few others in popular music could craft a show that spoke so eloquently to the city’s struggles, both welcome distraction and poignant reminder.
Eyes closed, Springsteen rededicated “My City of Ruins,” originally written as a eulogy for Asbury Park, New Jersey, to New Orleans. To a hushed, riveted audience, he described scenes of desolation that sounded all too familiar: “The rain is falling down … the boarded-up windows, the hustlers and the thieves … now tell me how do I begin again?” And then the refrain: “Come on, rise up! Rise up!”
Thousands of weary New Orleanians let the lyrics wash over them like a baptism. The personal pronoun of the title gave them voice: My city of ruins. Those in need of someone to express the anger, frustration, grief and resolve expended over the previous eight months had found their man. Fists were raised and tears were shed as Springsteen delivered a Jazz Fest moment for the ages.
But he thought two lesser-known verses might be appropriate. With that, he unspooled “When the Saints Go Marching In” not as a boisterous, high-kicking second-line parade, but as an acoustic prayer delivered in a desperate hour. Face clenched, he sought the promised land: “Now some say this world of trouble is the only world we’ll ever see/ But I’m waiting for that moment when the new world is revealed.” No other artist could have spoken to, and for, the city of New Orleans more purposefully, passionately and effectively than Bruce Springsteen and the Seeger Sessions Band. Years later, people still talk about it. “They should talk about that forever,” Davis said. “I thought it was one of the most extraordinary things I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen thousands of shows. Reverend Springsteen held church, and ministered to a flock.” Dave Malone, the guitarist and vocalist for veteran New Orleans roots rock/ funk/ R& B jam band the Radiators, had never experienced Springsteen live before Jazz Fest. “The cynical part of me thought it would be hokey—some Pete Seeger stuff can be dated. But that guy has some kind of magnetism I can’t explain. His delivery and band were incredible. It was one of the best things I’ve ever seen in my life. I was sitting there crying like a third-grader.”
I have a lot of other highlighted sections about other musicians and their travails during and after Katrina, but I’m going to keep them to myself so as not to dilute the Springsteen commentary.
I don’t remember what got me on a Ry Cooder kick this week but I’m glad it happened.  I love this concert for New Orleans:
There are a lot of other great Cooder videos out on YouTube that I had not seen until this week.

 

Week in Review – March 22nd, 2026

“First Week in San Sebastian”

Now that we’ve landed in the Basque region, you might be wondering where that is exactly and what the history of that region involves.  Here’s a map of the region – a small portion of what is now northeastern Spain and southwestern France:

Here’s an online summary of the extensive history of the region that helps one understand why these people have been pushing for recognition and independence for so long:

Monday lunch was at Rekondo.  This was a fancy restaurant (one tier below the very fancy Michelin star places) that was recommended to Denny by a shopkeeper in Old Town on Sunday.  The wine cellar is reported to be the best in Europe.  We had a tour after lunch, and it was extremely impressive.

They did not encourage photos and so I wasn’t able to get the fancy entry part.

The wine list that we were presented was at least an inch thick and very intimidating.  Thankfully, they had a list of about six recommendations on the food menu.  The champagne was $26 which we assumed was for a fancy glass, and were pleased to find was for a bottle.

I had the black pudding ravioli with truffle to start and then the suckling pig with the fancy pineapple crisp.  Both wonderful.

Here we are outside the restaurant and fully sated:

We had heard that the shops and restaurants would be mostly closed on Tuesday for a “protest strike.”  Denny decided to rent a car and drive to Biarritz in France for the day.  This was a short and relatively easy drive, and we arrived at the fancy beach in the late morning.

Biarritz appeared to be a combination of a very fancy, elegant town and a surf destination.  The breaks were very impressive all the way up and down the coast from the town.

There was a travel poster from La Baule in our apartment, and this and discussion of the waves at Biarritz reminded Mum of a day that Dad and I had spent enjoying the waves at the La Baule beach – much to the concern of Mum and Elspeth as we disappeared in the swells.

 

 

I had lunch at a cafe on a square in the center of Biarritz – a tasty veggie galette.

This bar window in Biarritz reminded us that we were still in Basque country:

After that snack, Denny drove us down the coast to Saint Jean de Luz.  We had lunch at a small restaurant recommended by AI – we would never have found it (hidden on a back street) without help.

Returning to San Sebastian, we were entertained to find the beach in front of our apartment very busy with folks enjoying the sun.

Diana made her way to a store to purchase a San Sebastian beach towel so that she could join the sun worshippers.  The following days were not quite as hot but she gave it a good try.

Denny and Anne left for the airport on Wednesday morning.  They were flying to London, spending the night, and then on to New Orleans on Thursday.  We were sorry to see them go and the apartment seemed quiet.

A ride on the funicular was highly recommended by Denny before he left.  We gave that a shot on Wednesday afternoon but caught it during siesta nap time.  Lunch seemed like a good alternative plan, and we shared a couple of salads at the nearby Wimbledon tennis club.

We found the local jazz club for Wednesday night entertainment.  It is called Altxerri – pronounced Alcherry and meaning “treasure” in Basque.
I was shocked at the low price of enjoying the music as compared to what we typically pay – 5 Euros for entry and 7 Euros for cocktails made with great care.
How was the music?
I really enjoyed it all.  There was a trio to start out and then they rotated students from the Musikene (local music school that seems to have a wonderful reputation and has amazing visiting international guests).  Here’s the initial trio.  I thought the drummer and the bass player were great, with the piano player doing well but missing dynamics and change to capture attention:
Then came a saxophone student:
And finally, my favourite musician of the night, a wonderful young pianist with an amazing finger span and technique:
What an enjoyable and unexpected night.
We visited Old Town for a pintxo lunch again on Thursday.  Irulegi was our first stop again and this time I tried their foie gras – just as delicious as everywhere else.
Then we walked around the corner to my favourite, Casa Urola for some more.
We made it all the way back around the bay to the funicular before siesta time.  The views from the top were well worth the effort as advertised by Denny.
The funicular originally opened in the 1920s and I don’t think has changed dramatically since then:
After the funicular we walked to the end of the point to watch the breaking wave spray and to look at the sculpture – the “Wind’s Comb.”
I tried to eat at Somos Cafe on Friday morning (their Turkish eggs sounded good) but arrived too late – it was fully loaded with locals enjoying breakfast when I got there around half past ten.  The BB cafe across the street was a good second choice.
On the walk to breakfast, I saw my first fish shop and chuckled.  I had just asked Diana the previous night about where people bought meat and fish.  The pescaderia was a bit intimidating with all the full fish waiting to be prepared for you.
I also saw these lovely blossoms on the walk:
We ate at El Bistro Ondaretta on Friday night.  Ondaretta is the area of town where our apartment is located and so this was less than a five-minute walk.  The restaurant is small and is run by a husband-and-wife couple.
Boeuf Bourguignon was a special and I was tempted but nervous that it wouldn’t be as good as Mum’s.
The menu was small but had plenty of things that sounded good to us.  What do you think we chose?
Are you ready to hear our choices?
Ok, Diana had the foie gras (shocking, I know) followed by the scallops – they’re smaller here but delicious.  I enjoyed the Pate de Campagna and cod in a delicious beurre blanc sauce.  We were very happy with our selections.
Saturday was a busy walking day again, covering more than five miles in the morning.  I had committed to giving hiking up to the statue of Jesus a try.  On the way we noticed a bunch of football pitches (8) on the beach.  What a nice setting for the kids.
Here’s some information on the statue:
The Jesus statue, known as the Sacred Heart of Jesus or Cristo de Urgull,
stands atop Monte Urgull, overlooking San Sebastián and La Concha Bay.
I enjoyed the view of the city and beach from the turrets:
It seemed more than 400 feet up there.
Diana rewarded me with an agua con gas at a cafe on the square after our descent.  Then we stopped into a restaurant that we were hoping to try for dinner on Monday night to make a reservation.  Diana was able to get that all sorted and we’re looking forward to it.
We decided to check out the fancy building next to us on Sunday afternoon.  This is called the “Palais d’Ete a San Sebastian” and was designed by the English architect Selden Wornum in the late 1800s.  The flower beds were very pretty.
We revisited the music club, Altxerri again on Sunday evening, this time for some blues music.
Just like last time, the musicians were top notch on piano and harmonicas:
My first book this week was “The Future Saints” by Ashley Winstead.  The reviews made this sound quite appealing, but I gave up early on.  It was like a bubblegum pop book and nothing close to what I was hoping for and expecting.  The comparisons to “Daisy Jones and the Six” should have tipped me off – I really didn’t enjoy that book either.
I switched over to “The Rest of Our Lives” by Ben Markovits.  This was much more my speed.  I realized a little into the read that I had previously read “Christmas in Austin” by Markovits and really enjoyed it.
Here’s an online summary of the plot:

“When Tom Layward’s wife had an affair twelve years ago, he resolved to leave her as soon as his youngest child left the nest. Now, while driving his college-bound daughter to Pittsburgh, he remembers his promise to himself. He is also on the run from his own health issues and a forced leave from work.

So, rather than returning to his wife in Westchester, Tom keeps driving west, with the vague plan of visiting people from his past—an old college friend, his ex-girlfriend, his brother, his son—en route, maybe, to California. He’s moving towards a future he hasn’t even envisioned yet while he considers his past and the choices he’s made that have brought him to this particular present. Pitch-perfect, tender, and keenly observed, The Rest of Our Lives is a story about what to do when the rest of your life is only just the beginning of your story.”

Some passages that I highlighted:
“You know they’re…we’re supposed to add a line under our university emails, which says like, he/his/him, which I refuse to do.  So I got an email from the compliance officer.”
“There’s no such thing as a compliance officer,” Miri said.
“Anyway, I started signing off with he/I/mine.  So I get another email and have to explain myself.  I don’t like being referred to in the accusative.  It literally objectifies I.”
This made me smile given some of the discussions Diana and I have had about including pronouns in email signatures and the like.  Neither of us ever did and thankfully no longer have anyone to tell us that it’s required.
An interesting passage on Father and Daughter musical tastes:
“The music she was into was eighties synthy stuff, songs like “Tainted Love” and bands like the Eurythmics.  She liked them in a retro ironic way, because they had amped-up sounds and emotions, which she could pretend to have and make fun of at the same time.  Technically, I guess, this was my musical era, but I was more of a Springsteen fan or even John Cougar Mellencamp, what Miri called corny, depressing white-guy music, with a slow banging beat and strummy guitar.  But, you know, where the baisc goal is authenticity.  Good road-trip music, especially if you’re taking 80 West through Pennsylvania.  Whatever, I let her play what she wanted.  Like “Chains of Love,” which I remember hating when it came out, around the time of my high school prom, where I did not have a good time.”
The concept of arguing “with another person in the room” gave me a chuckle.
“”Have you talked to Amy?” he asked suddenly.
“About what?”
“I thought you said you guys had a fight.”
“I called her last night.  But I don’t know if we had a fight.”  I tried to explain myself.  “For the past…I don’t know, two or three years, she’s been seeing a therapist, which means when you argue with Amy, it’s like there’s this other person in the room, who’s a certified expert, and you have to argue with her, too.  But we didn’t really argue, we disagreed.””
Describing one of my most hated experiences, having an MRI.  Maybe I need to recite poetry in my head:
“The whole thing took about ten minutes, that’s what they told me beforehand.  So I tried to work out how long ten minutes is.  You have to keep very still.  Also, I was supposed to hold my arms over my head and that turned out to be difficult.  The pins and needles began almost immediately.  By the end my arms felt like rolled-up sailcloth, dead weights.  Sometimes I had to breathe in and hold my breath, then let it out when they told me to.  A voice spoke to me from the tube.  But there were also periods of silence.
This is what I thought about.  I tried to concentrate on specific things.  Poems I had memorized in high school.  The Raven…Once upon a midnight dreary, until it broke down.  Whose woods these are I think I know.  Ozymandias.  Nothing beside remains…Famous moments in sports from my childhood.  Jordan switching to his left hand midair against the Lakers…Lorenzo Charles catching Derek Whittenburg’s airball and dunking it home as time expired to win the 1983 National Championship.  I imagined Jimmy Valvano running like a man released onto the court, looking for people to hug.  A few years later he was dead of cancer.  All of this added up to maybe six minutes’ worth of material, then I went back to the beginning.
Then it was over; the bed I lay on quietly slid out of the tube.”
I watched a video this week of David Byrne on Colbert, performing “When we are singing”:
I’m looking forward to this group playing at Jazzfest in a few weeks.

Week in Review – March 15th, 2026

“Touring the Scottish Highlands”

Monday was a day of rest after all the wedding excitement.  It was a typically cold and wet day and, as it turns out, a good example of what to expect for the rest of the week.  I worked on train tickets from Stewarton to Edinburgh, and was pleased to find a route that didn’t involve changing from Central to Queen St stations in Glasgow – not really much fun with luggage for Scotland and Spain.  That pleasure didn’t last long as I saw a news story showing a fire in Central station caused by a neighbouring vape shop.  It did not look like trains would be running from there for a while.  A call to British Rail was no help – they seemed to think it would all be good the next day. I knew it wouldn’t and so arranged a taxi to take us through to Queen St station where we could catch the train directly to Edinburgh.

Arriving in Edinburgh, we caught a taxi to the Apex hotel in the Grassmarket to meet up with the krewe (Denny, Anne, Todd and Lori.)  We enjoyed lunch at the Beehive – directly across the street from what used to be the Heriot Watt university electrical engineering building (last visited by me, via this ramp, in 1985 to view my degree results pinned to the wall.)

Denny had to do some “work” in the afternoon and the rest of the group walked up to the Natural History museum, stopping to pat Greyfriars Bobby on the way.

What a lot of interesting and varied things in the museum.  One attraction weighed you and then told you what animal you were closest to in heft.  Our results – an ostrich, a penguin, an anteater, and a porpoise.  I’m going to let you imagine who has which spirit animal.

I found an interesting creature in a space suit.  Penguin or anteater?

We made our way up to the rooftop and enjoyed some great views of the Edinburgh skyline.  Those white lines are the Hillend dry ski slope where I was able to break an ankle and a wrist during my university years.

Here’s the dome of the Usher Hall – an excellent music and performance venue where I saw  several concerts – Joan Armatrading is the one that sticks with me, and also performed a piece for brass band, choir, and organ with a broken ankle (this one from some hooligans in Glasgow, not the dry ski slope.)

I like this picture of McD with the castle behind, although her face may give a wee hint of being a bit scunnered with the weather.

A pretty view down to the Balmoral hotel and firth.

We decided to walk down to the Balmoral and see if they had a nice lobby bar.  Indeed they did and we enjoyed some fancy cocktails.

After a quick refresh at the hotel, we walked up the stairs to The Witchery for a fancy dinner in the ancient setting next to the castle esplanade.

I loved my red deer dinner:

After dinner we paid a visit to Deacon Brodie’s pub.  The krewe had been on a catacombs tour the night before and were well versed in the two personalities, serving as the inspiration for Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

Wednesday started with a full cooked breakfast at the hotel.   One of our group didn’t like the idea of baked beans on their breakfast plate.  At least they were secured in a bowl rather than spilling around all the other goodies.

It was pouring as we tried to enjoy the view with our breakfast.

No reason to worry – as happened throughout our tour, the weather cleared up and the sun came out a few minutes later.

That allowed Denny to help me go and retrieve our rental van.  We loaded up and I was successful in getting us out of Edinburgh with no major wrong side of the road drama.  We drove past the kelpies at Falkirk:

Then past Stirling castle, before pulling in to Doune castle.  This is where much of Monty Python and the Holy Grail was shot, as well as some of the scenes from Outlander.

We enjoyed the audio tour, although some were disappointed that the ramparts were closed for maintenance.

We had a walk around the castle area, down to the river and along the path.  One of us tried hard to lose their phone on the excursion (not the one in this picture.)

It was a short drive to Callander (gateway to the Highlands) and a stop for lunch at an Indian restaurant that Denny had found.

I know, an interesting choice and Scotland does have some wonderful Indian restaurants.  I enjoyed the murals in the tiny bar in front of the restaurant.  “The Big Yin” (Billy Conolly) and the Irn Bru slogan:

We enjoyed the shopping in Callander for a while – I think everyone made a purchase of some kind – nice shirts for the boys.

The weather deteriorated pretty quickly as we left Callander for Glencoe.  The photo stops in Glencoe were pretty quick affairs:

We navigated through the ever changing weather and ultimately arrived in Fort William.   We tried The Geographer for dinner but alas it was fully booked on a Tuesday, outside of tourist season, in horrible weather – must be as good as the reviews say, or the only game in town.  The Nevis bar across the street accommodated us nicely.  I really liked the haggis nachos and Diana enjoyed some mussels.

The “Heilan Coo” had been the topic of much discussion on the drive and none had been spotted.  Denny used his AI buddy, “Chad”, to find the best place to see some as we departed Fort William on Thursday morning.

Turns out the best place was in the Nevis valley, right around the corner from the hotel.  We found some quickly and jumped out to take some pictures with Ben Nevis (tallest mountain in Scotland) in the misty clouds behind.

Next stop was the West Highland museum located in central Fort William.  A small but interesting place.  The thing I remember most was a video of a Model T Ford being driven up Ben Nevis.

We drove down the coast from Fort William towards Oban, stopping at the second castle featured in the Monty Python movie.  It can’t be reached when the tide is in.

A very nice and casual lunch was had at the Poppy’s garden center outside of Oban.  We decided that driving back to Fort William to spend the night was a bad idea and found the lovely Perle hotel on the waterfront in Oban.

We had planned a tour of the Oban distillery in the afternoon.  Unfortunately, like other places, they were taking advantage of the low tourist season to make some upgrades – adding an elevator and other construction.  This meant no tours.  However, the very pleasant tasting room was open and we availed ourselves of that feature.

 

We stopped into the Oban Inn on the harbour and Anne got a recommendation for a seafood restaurant – EE-USK (Gaelic for fish?) – just around the corner on the waterfront.    Anne secured us reservations and we had a lovely meal.  I started with the scallop gratin and then had a three fish sampler – sea bass, sole, and hake.  Diana had some briny oysters.

The view from the Oban harbour was something:

We made our way back to Edinburgh airport on Friday morning.  I enjoyed a nice roll with egg and sausage from the cafe around the corner before starting the drive.  We had a reservation at the Loch Fyne Oyster restaurant and got there a bit early.  Denny suggested a walk amongst the tallest trees in Europe that were just around the loch.

We had a short walk and didn’t find the tallest trees – highly suspect to begin with.  Inverary castle was closed for the season and so we couldn’t get in to take a look at that either.

Another excellent meal ensued at Loch Fyne oysters.  Seafood and bacon soup, potato fritters, oysters Rockefeller, and salmon three or four ways.  All delicious.

We drove on down to Loch Lomond, with an initial stop at Firkin point for some pretty views.

A little further down was Luss – a very busy place in the summer, but quiet when we stopped for a coffee.

Denny accompanied me to return the bus – can’t say I was totally sorry to get rid of it.  Worked out well for us, just a bit of a work.  An easy dinner at the Doubletree hotel was next, with great service from Bulgarian Vladimir.  I posed for this picture that Denny enjoys:

We had a relatively early start on Saturday to catch our flight to Amsterdam and then Bilbao.  We just missed the bus to San Sebastian on arrival at Bilbao – the ticket process was not self evident.  We were quite travel weary on arrival at the apartment.

Sunday in San Sebastian began with pastries at an outstanding bakery around the corner from our apartment.  Turns out there were many just as good in a very small radius.

Then we walked along the beach front, around the point, and arrived in Old Town.

Tour guide Denny selecting first pintxo stop

We sampled pintxos from three different places – all amazing and different.  Denny had done the usual helpful research to guide us to the best options.

Pintxo stop #1

Here’s a view of the pintxo cases at stop #1 – get in ma belly!

Pintxo stop #2

Pintxo stop #3

This was my favourite and we returned several times.  Great hot pintxos and excellent service.

The steak with potato foam and red pepper was a highlight:

Arriving home, we had covered six miles.   Not quite enough for Anne – she was off to check out the tennis place on the other side of the beach.

No time for reading this week.   Hoping to get back to it when things settle down a bit next week.

Some music that was playing on our Highlands tour:

 

 

Week in Review – March 1st, 2026

“Mayas!”

The Monday pickleball alarms alerted as usual.  The added excitement this time was that we had no water.  A major pipe (3 to 4 feet in diameter) on a main thoroughfare near us had blown, causing the street to buckle and taking out water for the majority of Uptown New Orleans.  Several schools canceled classes for the day and I decided there was no point in walking to a local coffee shop with my morning newspaper.

We had a productive morning on Tuesday.  I drove over to Metarie, Diana did some Target returns and I bought some clothes for the upcoming trip.  Then we stopped by the jewelry store to pick up the ring they resized for Diana – she seems quite happy with it this time.

I made a breakfast casserole in the afternoon to try and use up left over eggs and veggies from the fridge.  I think it turned out well – I like to add serrano peppers (with the seeds) and extra red pepper flakes to give it a little more heat.

 

 

 

The boil water advisory was finally lifted on Tuesday afternoon – schools were mostly closed Monday and Tuesday.

I loved this article in the Tuesday newspaper.  Keith Spera writes as wonderfully as ever about his Mardi Gras day experience:

Mardi Gras Day as a meerkat

It was interesting to hear on the news that the Tuesday Boston Globe was not published for the first time in 153 years due to the blizzard.  No thank you!

We did well at trivia in the evening.  There is some confusion about whether we were in first or second place.  Tom, the quiz master, announced as winners, and I think he may have miss calculated and another team actually won by one point.  This was the final question – put these four things in order form oldest to most recent:

We were confident about the Cuban missile crisis and the fall of Saigon, but less sure about Star Trek and the 26th amendment.  We decided the 26th amendment was later as it came about after all the Vietnam protests.  The good news is that we worked through it as a team and came up with the correct answer.

I drove Diana over to yoga on Wednesday morning and then enjoyed a walk in the park, meeting back up with her afterwards.  The group seemed to think it was a very good class – they do appreciate Kathleen as an instructor.

I saw a story on the news about the “firefall” waterfall in Yosemite national park.  In February only, sunset lights up this waterfall to wonderful effect:

We met Kenny and Kara at Cafe Degas for Happy Hour.  The two hours passed quickly with good banter and great food and drink at an awesome price.  The weather was good and so the side “windows” were all rolled up for a patio like dining experience.

Thursday started with pickleball for Diana.  That was followed by an afternoon hair appointment.  She laughed because Denny had been slotted into the 30 min time when the dye was in her hair.

It was my turn for a haircut on Friday.  Discussion in Aidan Gill with Derek, my barber, turned to the silly behaviour of the actor Shia LaBeouf during Mardi Gras.  That led to various celebrities in Aidan Gill stories.  My favourites involved Andy Garcia (doing an Al Pacino impression for Derek) and Jude Law looking for a chat with Aidan.

Diana met me at Maya’s across from Aidan Gill for lunch.  She was a bit delayed as Fred dropped off a book for me to read on our trip and then his truck brakes weren’t working.  Poor Fred – trying to do something nice and then had to deal with a big hassle.  Here’s how Maya is described on their website:

I had been wanting to try the very well reviewed seafood tostones – fried green plantains topped with shrimp and crab in a wonderful sauce.  This was amazing – why has it taken over two years of living within walking distance of this little restaurant to try this dish?

Diana loved her tuna tartare also – very fresh with a great presentation.  She got a “crab caprese” to go – the dish is called crab caprichosa and is essentially a caprese salad with crab added.

We enjoyed an after lunch coffee at Piety and Desire, the fancy chocolate shop next to Aidan Gill.  Haircut, lunch, and coffee all in a 50 foot radius – perfect.  Diana couldn’t resist having a rose and lavender chocolate called La Vie en Rose.  These little chocolates are very pretty as well as being delicious treats.

We looked at another house on Saturday afternoon.  This one had a lovely interior, good sized pool, and off-street parking.  The area around the pool was too small to entertain more than a single person and the house was likely the most expensive on the street – we decided to pass on making an offer.  On to the next one.

Kenny and Kara rode their bikes over to our home on Sunday afternoon and we walked down to Pete’s Out in the Cold for a drink and a snack.  The Smoke Dat BBQ pop-up was operating on the patio and we enjoyed several filling snacks.

On the walk back home, we passed a lovely little church.  A guy was going in and Kenny asked about the denomination of the congregation.  He replied that it was a music studio now.  A minute or so later Kara commented that she thought that had been Wim Butler of the band Arcade Fire.  We looked at an online picture, and all agreed that had been him.

Those very loaded nachos and skinny margaritas from Rum House were a nice treat on the continued walk home.

I watched the recently released “Man on the Run” documentary about Paul McCartney founding Wings after the break up of the Beatles.  I would give it a middling rating.

I’m glad we didn’t go to a lot of trouble to see this at the recent Film Festival.

My book this week was “She’s Under Here” by Karen Palmer.  Not for everyone, and I’m not sure how it got on my list, but I did find this a good read that makes one think about how lucky our circumstances are compared to many.  An online summary:

“She’s Under Here: A Memoir by Karen Palmer is a harrowing and honest account of her escape from a violent marriage, detailing her flight with her two daughters in 1989 to create a new life under false identities to protect them from her dangerous ex-husband.  The book explores themes of fear, survival, and the difficult choices women face, examining the lines between victim and perpetrator, and captivity and freedom, all while recounting her “DIY witness protection” story.”

Here are some passages that I highlighted.  I enjoyed the premise of “do-it-yourself” witness protection.
“It might have been exciting, starting over, starting fresh, in a place where we were unknown, but this was do-it-yourself witness protection. Hidden under the driver’s seat was a guidebook on how to create new identities, but it couldn’t tell us who we’d be. We stopped in Boulder, Colorado.”
Something about places that were close to my home in Los Gatos.  I have a good picture of Mum and me looking at those pastel houses in Capitola.
“We took the girls up into the forested hills east of town, to the Mystery Spot, a purported gravitational anomaly where balls rolled uphill, and where I towered over Vinnie, who was a foot taller than me. We took them to Capitola, a pastel wedge of a burgh a few miles south of Santa Cruz, where the surf was extra gentle. We swam and walked the shore.”
And then something about my current home town:
“The next morning, driving west on I-10, hours of rain matched our somber mood. In Mobile, Alabama, on a whim we detoured to New Orleans. Approaching the French Quarter, while stopped at a light, a street sign changed direction in the wind. This, I thought, was one of those places where you might lose your mind, your way, your heart. Iron lace, jazz heard through open doorways, a voodoo museum. We bought the girls masks and beads and, hiding from the brutal sun, downed beignets at a café. Across the street a priest strolled in front of the cathedral, black cassock swinging. I licked powdered sugar from my fingers, took out my notebook, and jotted down a few words. I imagined the priest was me, but also, of course, not-me. Where had he come from? What was he thinking? What sort of trouble was he in? My pulse quickened—how I longed to be creative. There was room for that now in my life. I made another note, and another. And in this way, All Saints, a novel about three lonely people who cross paths in 1950s New Orleans, was born.”

“Music gives a soul to the universe, wings to the mind” – Plato

Huey Smith plays piano on this deep cut by the Pitter Pats.  I have it on good authority (Jon Cleary) that it starts with an arpeggiated dominant 7 with a sharp 5.

Does the start of this song sound familiar?

Yes, a much more famous example of an arpeggiated dominant 7 with a sharp 5.

In other piano music, I have been really enjoying Omar Sosa, a renowned Cuban pianist that I just discovered:

 

 

Week in Review – February 22nd, 2026

“Lundi Gras King and Queen”

Monday, Lundi Gras, was a big day for our group.  We had brunch at Commander’s Palace.  We were seated in the same booth we had when celebrating Campbell and Molly’s engagement.

I loved my pulled pork benedict, paired with the three little soups appetizer (including turtle with sherry) and the bread pudding souffle with whisky sauce.

Other folks had eggs Sardou and tournedos of boeuf.  Those who had eaten at Commander’s before commented that the food seemed even better than ever.

We made a quick trip upstairs to say hello to Fred and his family – standing reservation for two tables for eight people.

This was my request from the band roaming around the restaurant and taking requests:

Julie was presented with a toque to celebrate her birthday (not really but the original trip that didn’t work out was for her birthday.)

As we were readying to leave, Ti (one of the two owners) stopped us for an announcement – Marco and Julie had been chosen as the King and Queen of Lundi Gras.  They were helped into their capes, masks and crowns before parading through the room.  What a treat!

Marco really got into the parading through the room part:

What an amazing experience.  It was so much fun to share our wonderful local establishment with new people.

After some regroup time we were able to enjoy a bit of some night parades.  Orpheus always impresses with the illuminated floats.

Mardi Gras (Fat Tuesday) began early with the assembling of the “Buttercup walking krewe.”  Several new members joined this year – Hugh, Sarah, Patrick, and of course our guests.  We had a blast parading down St Charles Avenue to Canal street.  I laughed as we stopped for Greg to do repairs -he travels with a full set of tools – battery powered screw driver, hot glue gun – who knew.

From Canal Street we paraded down to Harry’s Corner bar at Charters and Dumaine.  Here’s most of the group there:

The French Quarter was quite a scene with all kinds of impromptu bands and groups parading around.

I hope that Julie’s question on arrival, “What is it that you really like about living here?”, was answered over the few days they stayed with us.

Marco and Julie made their way back to our home and caught an Uber for their flight home.  Vince and Lori departed on Wednesday morning.

Wednesday and Thursday were very much catch up days – cleaning up and attending appointments that had been pushed out until after Mardi Gras (when we can easily exit the box and drive to them.)

Diana got energetic and had pickleball with Laurie early Friday.  Then Kenny picked us up for lunch at the new Cuban restaurant on Freret Street, Cafe Conmigo.

We enjoyed the Cuban sandwiches, croquettes, pastries coffee and drinks.

Chandler, one of the folks operating the place, had recently visited San Sebastian for “research” on the new Basque restaurant he’s part of opening in mid-March.  We got a couple of great recommendations for our trip.

We finally found some energy on Saturday morning and headed out for a run/walk in the park.  The humidity was almost 100% and fortunately there was a slight wind and the temperature was mid 70s.  Nothing compared to what’s to come but a bit of a shock to the system this early in the year.  We ran into Kenny doing laps on his bike.  He was looking forward to Kara’s return from Italy on Saturday evening.

After the park we stopped by Denny’s to return some things and do some final planning for our upcoming trip.

We invited Kenny and Kara to join us for music in the sculpture garden at the New Orleans Museum of Art (NOMA) on Sunday afternoon.  The chilly weather meant the event was moved inside the museum.

Sir Chantz was quite entertaining – singing over multiple octaves, playing a great trumpet, dancing, tap dancing and performing double back flips – he did it all at a high level.

Here’s something from his larger band – they spend a lot of time touring in Germany:

Sir Chantz was followed by the Wes Anderson IV quartet.  Such a wonderfully sweet and smooth trombone tone.

After music, Kara (just back from Turin and Milan on Saturday night) suggested a visit to The Bell.  None of us had been and thought that sounded like a great idea.  This is a gourmet British pub.  I had heard Sir Paul McCartney visited when last in town – so should be good enough for us.

 

 

I was explaining what a Scotch egg was to Kenny when the waitress burst my bubble by telling me there were none left after the Sunday brunch rush.  Ugh.  However, the hush puppies, trout dip, and fish and chips that we shared were all excellent.  The “turbo” gin and tonic also seemed to be much appreciated.  As the driver, I decided any drink with a “turbo” rating probably wasn’t for me and stuck to my diet coke.

That may be one of the more action packed weeks in a while.

My first book (Mardi Gras recovery days involved a lot of quiet reading) this week was “Tilt” by Emma Pattee.  I enjoyed this read very much, finishing in less than 24 hours.  I didn’t find out until after reading that Pattee is an environmental writer, and that makes a lot of sense now.  Here’s an online summary:

“Last night, you and I were safe. Last night, in another universe, your father and I stood fighting in the kitchen.

Annie is nine months pregnant and shopping for a crib at IKEA when a massive earthquake hits Portland, Oregon. With no way to reach her husband, no phone or money, and a city left in chaos, there’s nothing to do but walk.

Making her way across the wreckage of Portland, Annie experiences human desperation and kindness: strangers offering help, a riot at a grocery store, and an unlikely friendship with a young mother. As she walks, Annie reflects on her struggling marriage, her disappointing career, and her anxiety about having a baby. If she can just make it home, she’s determined to change her life.

“Shocking and full of heart” (Publishers Weekly, starred review), Tilt is a “moving adrenaline rush” (The New York Times Book Review) and “epic odyssey” (NPR) about the disappointments and desires we all carry, and what each of us will do for the people we love.”

Some passages that I highlighted:
From the first flashback chapter – 17 years prior.  The pub trivia made me smile.
“We eat frozen pizza, change the Brita filter, spend hours on the couch looking at Instagram while watching Netflix, go play trivia at the neighborhood pub with another couple we don’t like that much but are too lazy to break up with. The sweetness of having a favorite bar, or a brunch spot, turns sour after six, seven years.”
From the 6 years ago flashback when Annie’s husband, Dom, has a dental emergency and no insurance.  I love the statement, “The key to a happy life is wanting what you already have.”
““Mom, I’m not going to marry him for insurance.” “What did I hear once on the radio? The key to a happy life is wanting what you already have. That’s all I’m gonna say. That’s just a mother’s two cents.” I roll my eyes. I know that across the river, she’s sitting at her desk miming zipping her lips shut.”
A description of the status of Portland a few hours after the massive earthquake:
“Quiet murmurs around the truck bed: gas terminals in Linnton are spilling into the river, toxic smoke spreading east across the city. ATMs don’t work. The National Guard says they’ll shoot anyone who tries to cross the Tilikum. Free water bottles at the convention center. Russian gangs going door to door, looting homes. The president is refusing to send help because he hates socialists. The tunnel to 26 collapsed on top of all the cars. Zoo animals running free.”
I enjoyed the “fountain of magma” as Annie describes how hot she feels:
“The sun is electric, stretching itself magnanimously over the sky. Have I ever been this hot before? My shoulders are itching from the sunburn. I’m afraid to even look at them. The heat no longer feels like it’s coming from outside of me but instead is a fountain of magma swirling inside. I think I might burst, spill lavalike over the broken asphalt. The core of me feels hotter than my skin can contain. I squint to make everything less bright.”
Another great description – “two injured animals – the elephant swaying sideways and the penguin tipping forward”:
“We start walking down Sandy towards downtown. There’s an awkward rhythm to our gait, our bodies moving out of sync. I lean side to side with the weight of my belly, my bad elbow tucked against my body. Taylor lurches forward in little half steps, trying to keep her weight off her hurt foot. Two injured animals—the elephant swaying sideways and the penguin tripping forward.”
My second book was “Wreck” by Catherine Newman.  I enjoyed the style, humour, and characters a lot and look forward to reading other Newman books.  This reminded me a lot of Anne Tyler and a bit of Elizabeth Strout.
Here’s an online overview:
“If you loved Rocky and her family on vacation on Cape Cod, wait until you join them at home two years later. (And if this is your first meeting with this crew, get ready to laugh and cry—and relate.)
Rocky, still anxious, nostalgic, and funny, is living in Western Massachusetts with her husband Nick and their daughter Willa, who’s back home after college. Their son, Jamie, has taken a new job in New York, and Mort, Rocky’s widowed father, has moved in.
It all couldn’t be more ridiculously normal . . . until Rocky finds herself obsessed with a local accident that only tangentially affects them—and with a medical condition that, she hopes, won’t affect them at all.
With her signature wit and wisdom, Catherine Newman explores the hidden rules of family, the heavy weight of uncertainty, and the gnarly fact that people—no matter how much you love them—are not always exactly who you want them to be.”
This felt very close to home:
“I sit on the floor with my back against the wall and do all the word puzzles on my phone, send my results competitively to Nick, who texts me various celebratory icons—trophies and ribbons and jazz hands—as well as his own scores, an emoji of two wrestlers, and, when he craps out on the Connections, a GIF of Lucille Ball extravagantly crying.”
Richard Scarry has appeared several times in the last few weeks – after I hadn’t thought about him for decades:
“Probably I’m picturing Richard Scarry books: the dog conductor cheerfully collecting the tickets from the pig dad; a raccoon porter getting the pillows and blankets ready for the cat family; Cookie the pig chef flipping pancakes out the window into the dining car. A loyal collective of friendly animals working together to get everybody where they need to go.”
I love the visual of all these little things stored in an Altoids tin:
“But now he’s taken out his famous Altoids tin, and he digs around in the mints and hearing-aid batteries and prescription capsules and tablets. “Are you about to offer me half a Valium?” I say, and he shakes his head, presses his chin toward his sternum, and says simply, “Heartburn.””
A conversation that Diana and I have regularly:
““Can I just send them myself?” I ask, and she explains that they must be faxed by the referring office because of confidentiality. This is frustrating because a) Within this very calendar year they will inevitably be sending me an earnestly apologetic letter about how they leaked or sold my personal data, including but not limited to all my biographical information and account numbers as well as, like, my birth certificate and a photo of my vulva that they had on file. And b) Faxing? Really? That’s the most secure thing they’ve got? “
Something that I remark on regularly:
““But should I take Rebukofide if I’m allergic to Rebukofide?” I always ask Nick, right before the commercial tells you that no, you shouldn’t.”

An article in the newspaper advertising an upcoming performance of an opera by Terence Blanchard reminded me of this classic post Katrina album:

Something from the great John Mooney:

Two completely different offerings from New Orleans musicians.

I was amazed by the skill and musicality of this bass player: