“Good Friends + 4 Days in New Orleans = Priceless”

When I left you last Sunday, the Cowboys and Saints were both losing.  The Cowboys did finally manage to eke out a win with an amazing 64 yard field goal by Aubrey – he is certainly a bright spot on the team.  The Saints were not so fortunate either that Sunday or particularly the most recent Sunday.

Augie was busy for several hours decorating for Halloween:

Diana had a routine medical test on Monday that required fasting for a while.  I gave her the choice of where to have lunch afterwards.  “Let’s go to Shaya, we haven’t been there in while.”  It was shortly after 11am and there were two other folks in the place.  The temperature was set to very cold and so we asked to sit on the patio.  Apparently opening the patio door to serve us was going to be too much.  So we left for plan B.

Red Dog Diner was happy to sit us outside.  We missed the 8-10am morning Happy Hour but I had a frozen Irish coffee anyway (a meal in itself.)

I entertained myself in the afternoon with the Americana music awards while Diana napped.   John C. Reilly hosted and did a nice version of Tom Waits’ “Picture in a Frame:”

Mary and Chuck finally arrived in Scotland on a trip that Mum helped them plan a while ago:

I’m looking forward to hearing about it.

I met my friend Fred from Plano (really from New Orleans originally but now lives in the Dallas area) for Happy Hour at the Evangeline on Tuesday afternoon.  I picked the location so that Fred could walk from his sister’s house and that worked out very well.  This is one of Kenny’s favourite bars and I felt guilty going for the first time without him, but had a great visit with Fred.

Trivia on Tuesday night – all good through the first half and then we took a  nosedive.  We were close on this final question.  You had to guess within five of the total and we were just a few outside that.  The only one we knew with certainty was the hockey goals – seven.

Diana began Wednesday in typical fashion – a run and then yoga.  Then we went to look at a house on Nashville Ave that had a nice pool, pool house, and way more rooms than we need.  Too much upkeep and maintenance on that place.

We got some culture on Wednesday evening at a reading at Octavia books.  Here’s what their email said about the event:

“From the legendary producer of Nick Drake, R.E.M., Toots and the Maytals, and Pink Floyd and author of White Bicycles: Making Music in the 1960s comes a riveting, world-spanning tour de force illuminating the artists, histories, controversies, and collaborations that shaped global music.”

I enjoyed the stories and music that he played.  I picked up a book by the interviewer, Jay Mazza, about Kermit Ruffins and Vaughan’s lounge.  Mazza attended over 300 Thursday night shows at the venue with Kermit and band.  That’s where I ended up on my first ever evening in New Orleans and I was sold.

One of my favourite songs that I heard that night:

Back at the house we watched an episode of the new “Morning Show” series – not too exciting yet.

April and Jason, friends from Austin, arrived on Thursday morning.  We had a nibble on a breakfast casserole that I made for the first time – yummy, and then it was off to Commander’s Palace for lunch.

After the usual trio of small soups, I passed on the usual stuffed quail and tried the cochon de lait tostada – a good new option.  And of course, you can’t finish without the whiskey souffle:

Next up, Booker Sessions at the Maple Leaf.  This week was Andre Bohren and he was strictly classical – none of the hybrid style that Booker is famous for creating.  Lots of Chopin and Liszt.

A brief stop in to Jacques-Imo’s for alligator cheesecake and a hello to Debra, and we had day one of the visit in the books.

Our guests had not spent time in the French Quarter and so we rectified that with a brief ramble on Friday afternoon.  We stopped in the lovely Peychaud’s courtyard where Jason fell in love with the Hurricane cocktail.

We had the obligatory wander down Bourbon Street and back up Royal Street, then caught a car over to N7.  This is always such a lovely place to take guests when the weather is nice.  The garden seating worked out very well, and we were able to share several menu highlights: tomato salad (the popping flavours), octopus, duck liver pate, tarte flambee traditionelle (always a highlight for me with those lardons and caramelized onions) and steak au poivre.

After that N7 feast, we regrouped and made a visit to Dos Jefes to watch the Joe Krown trio.  After a bit of a late start (actually 30 minutes late is pretty much on time for New Orleans) we were treated to one of the best performances that I’ve heard from Joe.

We met the local krewe (Jack, Alex, Thom, Laura) at Oak and Ale to watch football on Saturday afternoon.  That gave April and Jason a chance for a repeat French Quarter visit and another Hurricane.

We enjoyed dinner together at the Bouligny Tavern.   How did they get that smoky char on the broccolini with the burrata?  The deviled eggs were also very fancy:

We planned on Elizabeth’s in the Bywater for brunch on Sunday.  I had a last minute thought that it would be nice to invite Chris who lives close.  Diana did not he was joining until she saw his bike parked in front.  Nice surprise!

They always have such a good selection of brunch specials – hard to decide:

The Cowboys and Saints both lost their games in the afternoon – the Saints by the worst margin since the 1970s – going to be a long season for them.

I’m a little over half way through “I Might be in Trouble” by Daniel Aleman.  I’m finding it well written and funny so far, albeit a bit dark.  Here’s the online summary:

“A “hilarious, suspense-filled” dark comedy about a struggling writer who wakes up to find his date from the night before dead—and must then decide how far he’s willing to go to use this as inspiration for his next book (Entertainment Weekly).

A few years ago, David Alvarez had it all: a six-figure book deal, a loving boyfriend, and an exciting writing career. His debut novel was a resounding success, which made the publication of his second book—a total flop—all the more devastating. Now, David is single, lonely, and desperately trying to come up with the next great idea for his third manuscript, one that will redeem him in the eyes of readers, reviewers, the entire publishing world…and maybe even his ex-boyfriend.

But good ideas are hard to come by, and the mounting pressure of a near-empty bank account isn’t helping. When David connects with a sexy stranger on a dating app, he figures a wild night out in New York City may be just what he needs to find inspiration.

But after one of the best nights of his life, David wakes up hungover but giddy—only to find prince charming dead next to him in bed. Suddenly faced with the implausible idea that he may have actually killed his date, David calls the only person he can trust in a moment of crisis: his literary agent, Stacey.

Together, David and Stacey must untangle the events of the previous night, cover their tracks, and spin the entire misadventure into David’s career-defining novel—if only they can figure out what to do with the body first.”

The passing of Robert Redford brought to mind this song from Allison Moorer that she performed in “The Horse Whisperer:”

Take a listen to this gorgeous cover of “Dancing in the Dark” that Jason shared with us:

Coexist peacefully, with patience and kindness for all!

“Hello Cleveland”

Monday was the fist low humidity day in months and we took advantage by walking down to Aquila Bistro and Cafe.  It’s only half a mile away and we haven’t been since it opened in what used to be the Rabbit’s Foot (a coffee shop that I really enjoyed.)  The food and coffees were very good and the service excellent.  We’ll put this back on the rotation – we have so many good coffee shops in walking distance, particularly as it starts to cool off a wee bit.

Diana got avocado toast which was served with tater tots (her number one comfort food), eggs and a salad.  All very good.  The shop had a clever item for sale – “A date with a puzzle.”  These were jigsaw puzzles wrapped up with a description that included the number of pieces and three words to describe the subject.  Maybe I’ll have to go back and get one for McD to do on a rainy day.

I’ve been working to step up my omelet game in retirement.  Plenty of time for chives, avocado and radishes to spice up the presentation:

We were planning to see the Spinal Tap II movie on Friday, followed by the “Hello, Cleveland” cover band.  In anticipation we had Kenny, Kara, Thom, Libby and Jack over to watch the original movie on Monday night.  The classic line from the original is that their amplifiers go to “11.”  Diana helped me adjust mine to the same:

Spinal Tap II was filmed mostly in New Orleans with cameos from Paul McCartney and Elton John.  The cheese shop scenes were filmed in the store next to my barber, Aidan Gill, and he provided the “green room” for the day with Guinness and Irish whiskies.  Diana and I wandered by and saw Rob Reiner directing the action in “Nigel’s Cheese Shop.”

I ordered up some coasters and a wee Stonehenge (plays a role in the original movie stage set) to make things fun.

We had a fish and chips dining theme (would have been better if Jack had remembered his freshly caught snapper) with malt vinegar and tartar sauce – the easiest British food we could come up with on short notice.

Here’s the trailer for Spinal Tap II – complete with the Stonehenge themed 2:

I thought these beers were funny – came across them while shopping for Monday dinner with Jack “O”gan.

We seem to think we won trivia on Tuesday – there appears to be some confusion but we’re going with it.  The only questions I knew were these two:

“Fuddy Duddy”

“Jimmy Johnson”

By the time I called Denny on Wednesday morning he had already heard from Jack that I was minimally helpful.

We made it to the Hot and Soul restaurant next to the new Trader Joe’s for lunch on Wednesday.  This is a single shotgun house and seemed to have an interesting menu.  I enjoyed the veggie curry and Diana had a tasty ceviche.    We sat at the bar and I was surprised when one of the cooks proceeded to chop up more than a dozen onions on a surface just behind the bar.  I asked the bartender/waitress why he didn’t do that in the back instead of bringing tears to all of our eyes.  I got what I’m sure she thought was a funny reply, but it just seemed rude and flippant to me.  Not sure I’ll be rushing back to this place.

Diana led an expedition to the Banks Street Bar on Wednesday evening to listen to Mia Borders perform.  This was a pleasant neighbourhood bar and Mia played a good set that started on time at 6pm – always appreciated by the old folks.

We split a burger from the place next door and enjoyed it with the music.

“Set It Up” was a funny movie that we watched later in the evening.

Zoey Deutch and Glen Powell were very entertaining.

I accompanied Diana to a doctor appointment on Thursday and then we made a visit to Octavia books – such a nice store and much expanded.  I picked up the Tom Piazza book about his friendship with John Prine and “Buckeye” by Patrick Ryan.  More to come on both of those soon.

We picked up Kenny and Kara for the Spinal Tap II excursion on Friday evening.  Here’s how the Broad newsletter advertised the event:

“First up, on Friday night, we have a twofer of Spinal Tap bliss! At 7pm, we will screen the film at The Broad Theater, then immediately following, Broadside will host HELLO CLEVELAND, the greatest (and maybe only?) Spinal Tap cover band. Hello Cleveland is compromised of Marc Paradis on guitar, Beth Patterson on electric bouzouki-tar, Dave Pomerleau on bass, Mike Barras on drums, and Josh Paxton on keys (most of the members from Johnny Sketch and the Dirty Notes). Check-in will be at the theater where you will be given a wrist band to enter Broadside.”

The movie was very funny and well done – I enjoyed it even more than the first one.  Diana was particularly entertained – haven’t seen her laugh as much at a movie ever.  We both remarked that it was fun to watch a movie in a full theater with folks that were enjoying the humour.

The cover band of all-star local musicians was also very entertaining.  What a lot of work those guys did for a one night only performance.  Here are some highlights:

“Heavy Duty”:

The wonderful pianist, Josh Paxson, doing an intro to “Stonehenge”:

A couple of clips from “Stonehenge”:

Jeff was in town solo on Saturday to attend his Mom’s birthday on Sunday.  Merry Lee had to attend a funeral.  We met Jeff at the Rusty Nail (walking distance from his condo) to watch the LSU college football game.

We left at halftime and watched the conclusion (a nice win for LSU) from our respective homes.  Jeff enjoyed the Rusty Nail and was excited that it was dog friendly.

Diana joined me on a walk to French Truck coffee this morning.  I realized on leaving that I had made quite a mess on the floor with my very flaky and delicious croissant.

I’m currently watching the Saints struggle to get anything going against the San Francisco 49ers.  And there was just an update that the Cowboys (not on TV in New Orleans) are losing to the Giants.  There’s still time for both teams to recover.

This article in the Tuesday newspaper reminded me of the literary geniuses that have inhabited New Orleans over the years:

William Faulkner spent a year in New Orleans. It influenced his writing all his life.

The Nobel laureate remembered the city with affection, saying he “had more fun there than I ever had and ever will have again anywhere.”

• BY JOSEPH MAKKOS | Contributing writer
• Sep 5, 2025

For aspiring writers, New Orleans in the 1920s wasn’t just another city; it was a cultural crucible where artistic voices were forged amid a tolerant, bohemian atmosphere. For William Faulkner, his transformative stay in the French Quarter in 1925 proved pivotal, marking his transition from an aspiring poet to a fledgling novelist and profoundly shaping his literary trajectory.

When Faulkner arrived in January 1925, a few months after his 27th birthday, he was only passing through on his way to Europe. But he quickly fell under the city’s spell, finding in its French Quarter a poor man’s Paris where he could live cheaply and richly among artists.

He rented a modest apartment in Pirate’s Alley (then Orleans Alley), today a literary landmark. This lean living situation was part of the Quarter’s allure: Low rents attracted a diverse creative class that lived and worked cheek by jowl in its crumbling townhouses.

The city itself was a sensory feast. Faulkner wandered its alleys with his notebook, soaking up what he called the “city’s sweet stink,” the cacophony of street vendors, jazz  and dialects swirling together in the Quarter’s courtyards and cafes.

“The brooding and timeless quality of the city,” he observed, “is broken only by the sudden raucous cry of a newsboy or the ironic laughter of a drunk.” It was the city’s unapologetic pageantry and mercurial cast of characters, observed with a sharp outsider’s eye, that would teach him to inhabit perspectives far beyond his Mississippi roots.

According to Jay Watson, recently retired Distinguished Professor of English and Howry Professor of Faulkner Studies at the University of Mississippi, New Orleans offered the young writer something Oxford, Mississippi, could not.

“In Oxford, Faulkner was condescended to for wanting to live a life of the mind,” Watson said. “In New Orleans, he found an aesthetic metropolis — a community of like-minded people that gave him permission to stay with this kind of life.”

A decisive influence during this period was Sherwood Anderson, the celebrated author of “Winesburg, Ohio,” who had made New Orleans his semiretirement home. Anderson encouraged Faulkner to abandon poetry for prose, advice that changed the young Mississippian’s life.  Anderson also introduced Faulkner to his New York publisher, paving the way for his first novel, “Soldier’s Pay.”

Faulkner never forgot the kindness, later dedicating the book to Anderson. But as Watson notes, Anderson’s impact went even deeper: “Ironically, one of the most important things Sherwood Anderson ever did for Faulkner was to tell him to leave New Orleans — to go back to Mississippi, to the place he knew best, if he really wanted to maximize his talent.”

The French Quarter’s literary ferment brought him into orbit with other figures, including William Spratling, John McClure and Roark Bradford. Spratling, a Tulane architecture instructor and Faulkner’s housemate, collaborated with him on “Sherwood Anderson and Other Famous Creoles,” a satirical limited-edition book that caricatured the bohemian circle around them.

McClure, an editor at The Times-Picayune and the influential Double Dealer magazine, became one of Faulkner’s earliest champions, publishing his first poem and later his experimental prose sketches.

The Times-Picayune itself became Faulkner’s training ground. He sold numerous short stories and sketches to the paper, often earning $5 to $15 apiece — much-needed income for the young writer.

His series, initially titled “Mirrors of Chartres Street,” offered slice-of-life portraits of the city’s inhabitants, written with a poet’s ear but shaped by the practical realities of newspaper work.

Paid by the inch, Faulkner learned to adapt his lush style into something immediate and concise. “Being paid by The Times-Picayune must have been empowering for Faulkner,” Watson said. “For the first time, he was making coin for his writing — not vanity press or favors from friends, but real income. It helped him believe in himself.”

Beyond journalism, New Orleans gave him experiences that became raw material for fiction. A disastrous yacht excursion on Lake Pontchartrain with Anderson and other artists — plagued by mosquitoes, engine trouble, and frayed tempers — would inspire his second novel, “Mosquitoes.” The Quarter also encouraged him to experiment with shape-shifting into character, vanishing into other voices and perspectives. As he later reflected, New Orleans was a place where “imagination takes precedence over fact.”

The results were extraordinary. In just a few short months, Faulkner published 16 stories in The Times-Picayune Sunday Magazine and nearly completed “Soldier’s Pay” in his Pirate’s Alley apartment. These achievements launched his career as a novelist, providing the confidence and momentum that would carry him through the masterpieces of the next decade.

Faulkner’s time in New Orleans was brief, but it became a lifelong touchstone. Later in life, he remembered the city with affection, saying he “had more fun there than I ever had and ever will have again anywhere now.”

As he once wrote in his early sketches, “Here is the substance of a thousand dreams, their beauty broken, trampled, and cast aside. Yet it still clings, the romance of a past that will not pass.”

For the Nobel laureate who would one day bend time itself into fiction, it was New Orleans that first gave him permission to play, to absorb the chaos of modern life, and to transform it into art.

The Pirate’s Alley Faulkner Society will mark the centennial of Faulkner’s New Orleans year with a festival Sept. 25—28, a reminder that the city continues to celebrate the writer it once helped transform.

Joseph S. Makkos is a New Orleans — based archivist, writer and director of Intelligent Archives, a company dedicated to preserving and reimagining historic newspapers. 

I hope to be able to attend the Faulkner festival this year.

My book this week was “The Grand Paloma Resort” by Cleyvis Natera.  This didn’t hold my attention too well – lots of peaks and valleys with the storyline feeling a bit repetitive quite often.  I would recommend skipping it.  Here’s the online summary:

“The Grand Paloma Resort is a lush paradise in the Dominican Republic where the guests enjoy incredible luxury, and the staff is always eager to please—that is, until they are pushed to the brink.

Laura is a local Dominican woman who, through sheer hard work, has risen through the ranks to become manager at the Grand Paloma Resort. Her idea to pair a “platinum” guest with their own resort employee to attend to their every whim has been wildly successful, and she’s just weeks away from a promotion that could blaze a path for her off the resort and toward a life of opportunity. If only her younger sister, Elena—who she’s looked after since the death of their mother—could get with the program.”

I made a start on “Living in the Present with John Prine” by New Orleans resident Tom Piazza, and can tell that I’m going to really enjoy it.

Here’s an online summary:

“A vivid, joyful, moving window onto the life and heart of an American icon.

In the spring of 2018, Tom Piazza climbed into a 1977 Coupe de Ville with the great singer-songwriter John Prine to write an article for the Oxford American. Their Florida road trip ignited a deep friendship, full of tall tales over epic meals, long nights playing guitar and trading songs, and visits back and forth between their homes in Nashville and New Orleans. Along the way, Prine invited Piazza to work with him on a memoir, with John telling sprawling, often hilarious stories of his youth and family in Chicago and Kentucky, his breakthrough into the national spotlight, his riotous early years in the Nashville country scene, and much more. When Prine died suddenly of COVID in April 2020, that unfinished memoir evolved into an intimate and very personal narrative of the artist’s final years. In it, Piazza offers fans an unforgettable portrait of the beloved musician in his late glory―as a boyish cut-up, an epic raconteur, a great American poet, and, most important, a beloved friend.”

A couple of favourite passages so far:

Describing a ride in a massive 1977 Coupe de Ville:

“He gets in behind the wheel; I climb back into the marshmallow-white leather interior next to him, and as the engine starts with a Wagnerian roar a middle-aged guy walking in front of us-startled-gives us a grin and a thumbs up.

“I like giving people a smile when they see this car,” Prine says, happy as a man can be.  “This car brings back dreams.””

On first seeing Prine perform at the Saenger theater in 2016:

“At one point I realized that tears were running down my cheeks.  The lone figure on stage, ravaged by time and circumstance, yet standing there and delivering this painful beauty into the cavernous theater, alone…it occurred to me right then that I might want to write something about him, although I wasn’t sure just what or why.”

It’s been a while since we had anything from the inimitable Billy Preston:

I love the guitar sound on this one:

Another sweet sounding, laid back guitar:

Coexist peacefully, with patience and kindness for all!

 

I shopped for and cooked Sunday dinner – look at me go in retirement.  The black  bean enchilada skillet dish was very well received by my wife.  I did ask her later what dish I had bought the plain yogurt for.  The one last night – “Remember I suggested that you substitute if for sour cream and added it to your shopping list?”  Ahh – I do remember now and we can use it on the leftovers.

A link to the recipe if you’re interested in giving it a whirl, don’t forget the sour cream:

Recipe – black bean enchilada skillet

Another “culture pass” from the library took us to the Ogden Museum of Southern Art on Monday.  The first thing we saw was this “Universal, Cosmic Mule” on the way up the stairs:

Something about this guy really appealed to me.

We started on the fifth floor and worked our way down.  The views from the fifth floor terrace were impressive.  Here’s the World War II museum and Crescent City Connection (CCC) bridge:

And a good view of the “wing” cover over the terrace of the World War II museum:

An interesting seahorse on the patio:

There is an annual competition for local artists to have their work displayed at the Ogden and that was our favourite part of our visit.  Such creativity in pieces created over the last year or two by folks living in the area.

This is a collection of 50 paintings of Vietnamese folks to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the end of the Vietnam war:

This level of detailed information really made this fifth floor exhibit for me.  This one was called “Hurricane Proof House” and was painted “en plain air” shortly after Katrina:

The next floors had some older Southern art.  I enjoyed these two paintings:

The one directly above had a real 3D feel to it.

This is one of the more well known paintings in the collection – French Quarter  rooftops by  Knute Helder from 1923   :

You might be getting bored with my tour of the Ogden by now.  I’ll conclude with one final painting from the “20 years after Katrina section:”

The Ogden is a beautiful building – I remembered watching the HBO Tremé series character, Annie, playing the violin there for an event along with Joe Krown.  I tried hard, even using AI, to find a clip to share – none out there.  I guess HBO is just as effective as Bryan Adams at policing pirate copies of their videos.  There’s the episode info if you would like to watch on HBO:

And after all that, I don’t think this is the episode I’m looking for.  I’ll have to watch the whole series again.

I gave McD a choice of two places for lunch after the exhibit – Peche or Cochon Butcher.  I knew which she would choose, and I was fine with either one.  We started with tuna crudo and followed that with Jimmy Nardello peppers over whipped tuna – the waiter sold it to us and I’m glad he did.  Those peppers were smoky and sweet.  I’m ready for some more right now.

This is some research on the Jimmy Nardello pepper that I had never heard of before:

“This fine Italian pepper was grown each year by Giuseppe and Angella Nardello at their garden in the village of Ruoti, in Southern Italy. In 1887 they set sail with their one-year-old daughter Anna for a new life in the U.S. When they reached these shores, they settled and gardened in Naugatuck, Connecticut, and grew this same pepper that was named for their fourth son, Jimmy. This long, thin-skinned frying pepper dries easily and has such a rich flavor that this variety has been placed in “The Ark of Taste” by the Slow Food organization. It ripens to a deep red, is very prolific, and does well in most areas.”

We finished lunch with the crab capellini pasta – such fresh pasta and tasty sauce.

We were chatting about how unique these dishes at Peche are compared to other New Orleans restaurants, the combinations of ingredients and flavours reminding us of the wonderful Odd Duck in Austin.

I watched the movie “She Came to Me” on Monday night.  Peter Dinklage is an opera composer, Anne Hathaway his wife and psychiatrist, and Marisa Tomei is a tugboat captain.  Very quirky and well done.

Tuesday began with a walk in Audubon park.  It was a tiny bit less humid and I didn’t feel totally sweated out after a couple of laps.  After the park, we made our way over to the Batture farmer’s market.  This happens every Tuesday and the Batture is the part of land that is on the Mississippi river side of the levee – grandfathered in through some weird law.  If you want to learn more, check out “River Rats” by Macon Fry:

They Call us River Rats by Macon Fry

I spent an interesting day at Macon’s Batture house and will be happy to share some stories the next time we talk…

The farmer’s market was small but very well done.  Great looking peppers, exotic mushrooms, tomatoes, honey,  and smoothies.  We bought a crawfish and mushroom risotto that a fun lady was selling, and I couldn’t resist buying a pupusa from a lovely gentleman named Mike.  It was huge and very filling – Diana and I nibbled on it for several hours.  Certainly the best pupusa I’ve experienced – stuffed with delicious cheese and topped with a fried egg, pickled onion and crema.  I highly encourage my New Orleans friends to check this guy out – he does the City Park market on Sundays as well.  Additionally, he is opening a 70s cocktail bar and Tokyo style jazz club on Freret Street opposite the Gasa Gasa club.  Should be open in a couple of months – permitting delays have delayed the anticipated dates – imagine that in this city.

The Batture will reopen with food trucks and other popup restaurants this weekend for the fall and winter seasons.  We will certainly check that out.

We made our way home, McD did a quick change and pack, and then I dropped her off at Merry Lee’s pool for the afternoon.

My next agenda item was to see about my cyst surgery – this time in the right week.  I told the doctor that I had previously had a one inch cyst removed and now a much smaller version had grown back.  “You mean 2.5 centimeters, based on your accent?”  It’s not usually picked up that quickly.  Apparently his daughter his studying linguistics at Trinity college in Dublin – he might know a bit about accents.  The poor doctor tried really hard to arrange my surgery while I was there and was unsuccessful.

How did we do in Tuesday evening trivia?  We took second place by a very small margin.  I think Kenny was our MVP this week.

I always enjoy the mashup questions – “What would you call an Abba song about the longest reining UK monarch?”

Dancing Queen Elizabeth – I got that one.   Dad would be disappointed if  I  didn’t.

In other trivia news – Glasgow featured ab0ut cloning and Dolly:

Lastly, here’s our team captain turning in our answer that Kenny got right away.  “Joan of Arc.”  MVP for Kenny?

As we were leaving trivia Alex asked if anyone wanted to go and see the band at the Ponchatrain hotel.  Sure, I’ll do that.  At the very least it’ll get me closer to home.  I can walk from there.

Turns out Alex has been taking drumming lessons from Stanton for a few weeks and he invited him to come and watch the show:

Alex was impressed that I knew Oscar Rossingoli- by a week from research following the John Boutte show last week.

We attended the funeral service for the lovely Alicia Cole on Wednesday.  The last time I talked to her she was feeling great and enjoying life – that changed quickly.  Such a lovely lady with a massively kind heart.

Kenny suggested Mandina’s for lunch after the service.  This is a classic old school Italian seafood place with a Cajun twist, reminding us of Original Joe’s in San Jose (not the Cajun part).

We had a delightful lunch with great food and company.  I made the mistake of texting Denny that I had enjoyed my first visit to Mandino’s.  “You have been.  1st NOLA boys trip.  Followed by a stop down the street for Rebirth at Chickie Wah Wah.”  He is so correct – and I had a feeling when I wrote the text that he was going to say that.  Mandino’s had a lot of Hurricane Katrina (more on that coming) damage and had just reopened when we visited the first time.  And the Rebirth gave us a great show – almost too big for the newly opened Chickie Wah Wah.

Diana had a loaded salad and Kenny and I split the “burger on French” – I still couldn’t finish my half.

Mandino’s reminded me a lot of Tony Moran’s – the very first place I ate in New Orleans.  I came in to check up on a team that supported State Farm insurance from New Orleans.  They were still recovering from Katrina. I met Denny and Anne downstairs in the bar and we had desert together with the group upstairs.  Then they took us to Geno Delafonse at the original Rock ‘N Bowl and the amazing Kermit Ruffins with Henry Butler on keyboards at Vaughans lounge.  Why don’t I live in this city?  Took me a decade plus to make it happen

Then, it was finally time for my surgery.  Took about 10 minutes and was completely successful.  The surgeon is very confident that I will not have another cyst in that location.

We had planned on going t see Mia Borders at the Banks Street bar, but I wasn’t really feeling up for it.  Sorry Diana – two weeks from now?

Thursday had a very exciting start – checking out the newly opened Trader Joe’s.  I’m not sure how to describe this store – here’s what AI has to tell me:

” known for its unique, private-label products, affordable prices, and a welcoming shopping experience. The stores offer a wide range of products, including unique snacks, international foods, dietary options, wine, and beer, with a focus on quality and value rather than traditional branded items. The company has a cult-like following, in part due to its discovery-driven model, friendly staff, and often limited-run products. “

I think that’s a great summary.  We got a lot of interesting and varied food at a good price.  It seemed like they had listened to all of my complaints about other locations – nowhere near enough  parking, such skinny aisles that y0u can’t even pass someone coming at you,  crowding by the salad and dip section right by the front door.  All resolved at the new Tulane avenue location.

We had our first quarterly financial review on Thursday afternoon.  Doing well so far.  Thanks Uncle Pauline.

The paper had some “Then and Now” pictures today -part of the many 20 year anniversary of Katrina reporting..  The same location then and now.  I’ll share a couple of examples:

Then:

Now:

Continuing on the Katrina theme, Chris Rose wrote this.  Very well written (as always) and my friends will be upset with me for giving this ******* airtime:

“Dear New Orleans: Have you heard? The exhibitions, exclamations, exhortations and excoriations — in memorium, et ceterum, ad nauseam? Triggered yet? All these sad songs they keep playing, they’re so damn … sad. As Dr. John might put it, New Orleans is being traumaticalized, all over again. Deja Vieux Carre.

It’s been 20 years since I wrote a letter like this. That one was addressed to America, introducing our beleaguered friends and neighbors who were fleeing the floodwaters — unknowns bound for elsewhere. Our Exodus. So what is this thing that is happening right now, this … reckoning? An anniversary? Accurate, but that term always seems to fail this auspicious occasion. A commemoration? A remembrance? That one’s got a touch of proper gravitas.

An apotheosis, perhaps — a collective acknowledgment that Katrina still lords over our lives two decades later? The head spins. Who can even think straight with all this 8/29/05, 24/7, somebody please pass the 4/20.

Dear New Orleans. Here’s what it looks like from a distance — of time and geography, of memory and progress, of laughter and forgetting. I have come from the mountaintops, literally — and I’ve got Katrina cred with me. I was “the voice of the tortured city,” said The Washington Post. A truth teller, Oprah called me. (Or her people, anyway.) The McClatchy News Service crowned me “the literary avenging angel of the 504.” That was my favorite.

Folks even said I saved lives, that the stories I wrote in the aftermath were righteous balm for Katrina fatigue. Just last week, an old New Orleans acquaintance of mine showed up at the state park where I am living in the mountains of western Maryland just to cry on me. That’s happened a lot over the past 20 years. People see me, they cry. That’s some heavy right there.

What did I do to deserve all this? A city lay in ruin, 1,600 dead, homes and businesses destroyed, a vital culture drowning in its own filthy water. Somebody had to tell the jokes. Me and the refrigerators.

We met the same krewe for the kickoff of the college football season on Saturday afternoon.

Texas vs Ohio State was first, with local interest in the Texas quarterback, Arch Manning (3rd generation in the dynasty.)  Texas lost – not the result that I was looking for.  Next up Alabama vs Florida State.  We didn’t stay for the end, but Alabama disappointed all those folks with red hats and shirts on.  Not disappointed – the champagne girl:

She didn’t actually drink any of those, but they call Miller High Life “the champagne of beers” and so we thought this picture worked.

Where is that fun looking patio.  That’s the Rusty Nail – a great place to watch football.  I hadn’t been in many years and enjoyed the return visit.

I had started watching the new “Thursday Murder Club” on Netflix earlier in the week and just couldn’t get into it.  I must have been in a more open mood on Saturday evening and enjoyed finishing this movie with such an excellent cast.

Kenny invited us to join them at the Southern Decadence parade in the Quarter on Sunday afternoon.  I just wanted to chill at home, but Diana jumped on the offer and had a very good time watching all the crazy walking groups.

Meanwhile, I put together a white bean salad with feta and lemon-garlic vinaigrette.  Tasted very healthy and filling.

My first book this week was “A Family Matter” by Claire Lynch.  I’m not sure what possessed me to add this to the reading list – certainly not typical of my selections.  Nonetheless, having rejected my prior read, I felt compelled to persevere with this one.  While the subject matter didn’t appeal a lot, the humour and style certainly did.

An online summary:

“A young wife following her heart. A husband with the law on his side. Their daughter, caught in the middle. Forty years later, a family secret changes everything in this “quietly heart-scorching” (Barbara Kingsolver) debut novel.

1982. Dawn is a young mother, still adjusting to life with her husband, when Hazel lights up her world like a torch in the dark. Theirs is the kind of connection that’s impossible to resist, and suddenly life is more complicated, and more joyful, than Dawn ever expected. But she has responsibilities and commitments. She has a daughter.

2022. Heron has just received news from his doctor that turns everything upside down. He’s an older man, stuck in the habits of a quiet existence. Telling Maggie, his only child—the person around whom his life has revolved—seems impossible. Heron can’t tell her about his diagnosis, just as he can’t reveal all the other secrets he’s been keeping from her for so many years.

A Family Matter is an “intricately layered and infinitely nuanced” (Oprah Daily) exploration of love and loss, intimacy and injustice, custody and care, and whether it is possible to heal from the wounds of the past in the changed world of today.”

This is a quick and easy read.  I think I particularly enjoyed the references to UK based things that I hadn’t thought of in decades.

“Pickleball, Trivia, Music”

Our pickleball set arrived on Monday and Diana organized a court for us at The Exchange (indoor with air conditioning) for Tuesday.  I chuckled at a sheet of stickers in the package – stick on the bottom of the paddle handle and then you can use it to pick up the whiffle ball without bending all the way over – they know the target demographic for the game.

Kenny was kind enough to come along and give us some pointers.  It’s the common sense things – “Angle your paddle up unless you’re hitting it really hard”, “get down lower before you swing at ground balls” – that really help.  I had a good time and think Diana and I might make this a regular part of our week.

I might be most comfortable with the backhand – that was the same at table tennis.

On Tuesday afternoon I had scheduled an appointment to have the sebaceous cyst on my back looked at.  I had this several (3 or more) years ago and ultimately had to have it cut out as it got large and painful.  They warned me that it may come back.  Well, now it’s back and still very small.  After consultation with McD, I decided it was a good idea to get it cut out before we switch to a new benefits year (October 1st) and a new deductible kicks in.

Diana dropped me at Baptist on Napoleon and went on to drop some shoe returns off at the UPS store.  I made my way up to the 6th floor and was confused when the room it told me to check in at had a “Women’s wellness and menopause center” sign on the door.  Oh well, apparently that’s where the general surgery patients check in as well.   The lady behind the desk couldn’t find my appointment.  “Don’t worry – I’ll look it up n my phone.  I’m sorry I got the wrong week.  My appointment is next week.”  As if that wasn’t enough embarrassment, I’m leaving the menopause office and run into Julia – “What are you doing here?”   Ah geez!  I explained my situation and gave her a laugh.  She’s recovering from shoulder surgery and probably needed the laugh.

Returning home, I watched a new Cowboys Netflix documentary – “America’s Team, the Gambler and his Cowboys.”  I thought the episodes that I watched were very well done, and that even non-Cowboys fans might enjoy them.  I should have known better than to voice that opinion at trivia with a bunch of diehard Saints fans.  Aikman, Irvin, and Emmitt Smith were amazing – surviving the 1-15 season before all the Superbowls.

On to trivia.  We had a good session on Tuesday evening.  For the first time, I captured some pictures of the questions along the way.  We were behind at half time – all these peppy Tulane and Loyola students back in town and ready to play.  I’ll take you on a bit of a play by play from there:

The half time question – 3 points for every correct answer, up to 4 guesses:

We maxed out with 12 points – Cowboys (they didn’t want to write it down), 49ers, Steelers, and Patriots.  We are often a second half team:

I enjoy the “mashup questions”:

We were looking at the gasses and several of us triggered on “Noble Gasses” – must be “Barnes and Noble Gasses.”  Correct!

The group had settled on “Jailhouse Rock” and then I started trying to process on 1956 and a female blues singer – “Ain’t Nothing But a Hound Dog” popped into my head.  That was it.

I don’t know “Don Quixote” well, but had some brain flash on this horse name.  Again, we lucked into being correct.  We’re now on a big second half roll.

I should be the right guy to answer this.  I flashed back to a dinner at Tim’s house.  His son, Tegan, was playing “Trouble” with me.  I told him it was called “Sorry” in the UK.  He was very strongly opposed to that concept.  “No, it’s Trouble.”  I told the gang that “Sorry” was the correct answer.  Tom, quiz master, said the correct answer was “Frustration.”  I objected and he came up with an alternative question, that we nailed.  I did some Googling and found that “Frustration” is the current name for the game, and apparently they recently changed it from “Sorry.”  I don’t feel badly for objecting.

For some weird reason, I knew the answer to this.  Not sure how.  Maybe because I watched the series on TV about Uber and remembered the years.  I don’t know.  I’ll take the points.   I was positive on 2012 versus 2013 though.  Thom was thinking 2013 initially.

We were in first place with 101 points going into the final round.  The competitors had 93.  For the last question, one can wager up to 20 points.  Given our standing, we wagered 13 points.  Unfortunately we lost to “Phlat Phil” who got the last question right – we were somewhat close, but no cigar.  Second place and $25 of Dat Dog food and drink.

That’s a lot more trivia detail than I plan to share in the future.  It’s been a hot and slow week so far here.

On returning home, glowing in the second place aura, I watched a Netflix documentary on the band Devo.  Alex mentioned at trivia, and then I learned in the film, that Devo stands for “de-evolution”.  The members of the band attended Kent State university during the Vietnam protest incident – “Four dead in Ohio.”  They decided that mankind had “de-evolved” – “beginning to regress as demonstrated by the dysfunction and herd mentality of American society.”  I think they might have been onto something about the present day.

Open in Spotify

We used our “culture pass” from the library to attend the World War Two (WWII) museum on Wednesday.  This is advertised as the “#1 attraction” in New Orleans.  I had heard very positive reviews of this museum from everyone who had attended, and am happy to report that my experience was way better than I expected, even after all those reviews.  Such beautiful, professional, and carefully created exhibits.

The main entry hall was very impressive, with a huge bomber lurking overhead.  I often found that there were massive things overhead that I hadn’t noticed.

Our first exhibit was about the Aleutian islands – fascinating knowledge of these islands that are such a bridge between Alaska and Russia.  Did you know that Russia sold the US Alaska in 1865?

We migrated from there to a D-Day exhibit.  It’s hard to imagine the scale of this endeavor these days, and the commitment of the individuals involved.  This exhibit tried to convey some of the magnitude:

Did you know that a large number of the personnel involved in D-Day were dropped in via gliders?  I had never heard that.  Apparently towed across the Channel by boats and then released to glide into the zone.

My favourite exhibit on my first pass through this wonderful museum was about the war in the Pacific.  We were down in the bowels of a warship and then in a jungle.  The settings, videos and artifacts were amazing:

Of course all this ends up with the Enola Gay on August 6th, 1945.  Followed up with another atomic bomb on August 9th, 1945.   Reading the flight log from the Enola Gay was chilling.  “God, what have we done?”

Open in Spotify

Our final stop was at the Boeing airplane  exhibit.  I’m astounded by how they got all these massive objects inside this exhibit hall – I’d love to see a video about that (haven’t checked YouTube yet).  The 3rd floor viewing gallery had me marginally dizzy (thanks Dad!), and so I rejected Diana’s request to check out the 4th floor gallery.  Look at all these suspended and amazing planes:

Diana wanted to capture my dizzy self with all the massive planes above me:

On exiting the museum I suggested that we visit Taqueria La Lucha – this is a place owned by Kenny’s friend Ryan.  He makes wonderful tacos and an amazing hibiscus margarita.  We had a nice visit with him.  He started off with how difficult it is to run a restaurant in New Orleans in the height of summer – no doubt, and finished with stories about parade rides that his Dad helped him make.  Ryan’s hibiscus margaritas are the best that I have tasted, ever:

Here’s the taco menu that we need to take advantage of soon, when the weather cools off:

We got home just in time to meet Tristan who was going to service our generator.  He changed the oil, filter and spark plug so that we’re ready for the remainder of hurricane season.

Some interesting facts about what happened on August 20th:

In 1882, Tchaikovsky debuted his 1812 overture.  I can remember playing this at the Interlachen casino in Switzerland – such an amazing tour and very difficult bass part. The casino did not reverberate like the mountain churches we had played in the previous few days.   One of the highlights of my brass band career.  Second only to my Albert Hall experiences.  Walking the stairs that Eric Clapton walked in the start of the Cream reunion .

There’s a lot of excitement in Austin and in New Orleans about Arch Manning starting as quarterback for the University of Texas.  Here’s an interesting article in the paper about his bond with his grandfather, Archie:

Arch Manning Time Picayune article

On Thursday morning, I watched the Jennifer Lawrence movie “Causeway.”  This is one of my very favourite movies – understated with huge emotional connections and set in New Orleans.  Unlike some other movies, this could only be New Orleans – almost every scene.

I visited Aidan Gill and Derek for a haircut later on Thursday morning – always a good blether.  Then it was over to Rouse’s to do some shopping for an enchilada casserole that I planned on making.  I ultimately got too tired to mess with that and just popped a “Sicilian” pizza in the oven.  It seemed to be well received by my half Sicilian friend.

We had an amazing musical experience on Friday night.  John Boutte was playing in the indoor pavilion at the Broadside.  We’ve seen him before as a guest of Jon Cleary, but not with his own band and show.  I was happy when the second song in his set was Louisiana by Randy Newman:

And what an excellent guitar solo:

Who is that genius on the guitar?  It took a bit of work, and I identified him as Caleb Tokarska.  Here’s an Offbeat article about him:

Caleb Tokarska bio

After a while, Boutte started taking requests.  Caleb requested this one, “Blowin’ in the Wind”:

In addition to Caleb on the guitar, Oscar Rossignoli on the piano was a wonderful surprise.  As Diana said, “He could play anything.”  Indeed he could – a complete virtuoso who played all over the map for 2 hours without any music.

I enjoyed Boutte’s story about meeting Paul Simon and this cover of “American Tune”:

And this Cyndi Lauper cover:

Finishing with the song that made him all that HBO money from Treme:

I read this interesting article about living in and leaving New Orleans:

New Yorker New Orleans article

The Krewe of OAK rolled on Saturday night.  This is a walking parade on Oak Street and Carrollton midway between Mardi Gras celebrations.  We met Anne and Jack for dinner before the parade.  Chais Delachaise was close to the parade route.  We found out that Fred, Kelly and Richard had the same idea when we arrived.  Here are a couple of the walking groups:

Meanwhile, on the Mississippi coast, the boys were watching the Marshall Tucker Band, or rather, the one surviving member of the original band.  Apparently they found him after the show:

Open in Spotify

I read “Hell of a Book” by Jason Mott this week.  It wasn’t a long read and one that I should perhaps have abandoned midway through.  I found this a strange book, not totally devoid of great writing and promise, and just not cohesive at all – different writing techniques and approaches that don’t come together, if at all, until the last few pages.

Here’s the AI summary of Amazon reader reviews:

“Customers find the book heartbreakingly poignant and eloquently written, with great insight into the complexities of race and humor throughout. The storytelling receives mixed reactions – while some praise its astounding narrative, others find it confusing at times. The authenticity and pacing also get mixed reviews, with some finding it true and timely, while others question its reliability and find it challenging to follow.”

I can get behind that summary.  It’s always interesting when I don’t love a book that gets universally hugely positive reviews from so many sources, e.g.  from The Sunday Times:

“Brilliant and inventive. What is most surprising, however, is how funny the novel is. Jason Mott, an already successful American novelist, has dared to bring anarchic farce, vertiginous layers of irony, and often riotous hilarity to the Black Lives Matter movement. Striking . . . intelligent . . . ingenious.”

There were certainly some funny passages, but I would not describe the overall novel as “funny” by any stretch of the imagination.

Some passages that I enjoyed:

Steve Jones of the Sex Pistols on “5 Albums I Can’t Live Without”, discussing Bowie’s “Ziggy Stardust” album.   His list also included Rod Stewart, Roxy Music and Steely Dan.  That last one just makes me smile.  Steve Jones loves the precision and musicianship of Steely Dan.

“I know he had a few albums before that when he had curly hair and wearing dresses. I knew a couple of the songs, but that whole look, the glam look, I was sold hook, line, and sinker when that came out. I saw him a few times. I love Mick Ronson, Woody Woodmansey is a fantastic drummer, and Trevor Bolder. They were just a great band. I know it was basically David Bowie’s thing, and then he left them after two albums. Pretty much all of them anyway. Mick Ronson went on a bit longer to play with him on Pin Ups. That album was definitely one of my favorite albums. Very inspirational to me. Steered me in the direction. I loved all that glam, to be honest with you. T. Rex, Mott the Hoople. Good glam. There was a lot of cheesy glam, which I don’t mind now, but at the time, I was a bit particular. They had to look a certain way. Slade and The Sweet and bands like that, they seemed a bit more just manufactured and Top of the Pops friendly. I liked a bit more avant-garde with Bowie, and the next album, I’m going to say, as well. If you want me to still talk about the rise and fall, I will, or are we done now?”

Coexist peacefully, with kindness and patience for all.

“Pickleball?”

I finally had enough of putting air in a tire with a slow leak, and I know Diana certainly was tired of it as well.  Time to get it fixed.  Paul had recommended Al and Al’s shop and what a wonderful experience that was.  Not a place I would ever have considered using from a curb appeal perspective, but I was in and out in 15 minutes with two patches in place.  I would recommend Al senior and junior to anyone with tire woes.

The rest of Monday was boring administrative work – bills and other paperwork.

A hearing aid check up on Tuesday took me over to Metarie.  I typically swing by Taco Bell for a snack while over there.  My drink cup usually gets my secret visit busted by McD.  I’m going to have to be stealthier.

Kelly organized a girls Happy Hour for Anne’s birthday at the Columns in the evening.  Seems like they had a good time for three or more hours…

Diana had a busy girls day on Wednesday.  Running with Lori in the morning, followed by yoga.  I found out that Lori refers to her as “Coach D” while she’s pushing her to run further.  In the afternoon, Anne and Kara joined Diana at Merry Lee’s pool for the afternoon.  The brightly coloured bracelets that Diana had manufactured for Anne’s gift were well received.

Of course, the big fish were landed after Kenny and I left Grand Isle.  Thom looks quite pleased with himself and apparently that’s a cobia that Jack has:

Jack was kind enough to drop off some trout fillets for us when he got home.

A text from Diana at the pool asked me if I had interest in seeing the new Jeff Buckley documentary at the Broad theater on Thursday.  I had noticed this on their email an hour earlier and was waiting to ask if Diana would like to go when she got home.  Nice when things work out like that.  We both enjoyed the movie a lot.  Here’s an interview with the director, Amy Berg:

Spin interview with Jeff Buckley documentary director

From the only in New Orleans files, this was the headline this week – our Mayor indicted on 18 counts.  Thankfully she only has a few months left in office.

My book this week was “Culpability” by Bruce Hoslinger.  Here’s an online summary:

“When the Cassidy-Shaws’ autonomous minivan collides with an oncoming car, seventeen-year-old Charlie is in the driver’s seat, with his father, Noah, riding shotgun. In the back seat, tweens Alice and Izzy are on their phones, while their mother, Lorelei, a world leader in the field of artificial intelligence, is absorbed in her work. Yet each family member harbors a secret, implicating them all in the tragic accident.

During a weeklong recuperation on the Chesapeake Bay, the family confronts the excruciating moral dilemmas triggered by the crash. Noah tries to hold the family together as a seemingly routine police investigation jeopardizes Charlie’s future. Alice and Izzy turn strangely furtive. And Lorelei’s odd behavior tugs at Noah’s suspicions that there is a darker truth behind the incident—suspicions heightened by the sudden intrusion of Daniel Monet, a tech mogul whose mysterious history with Lorelei hints at betrayal. When Charlie falls for Monet’s teenaged daughter, the stakes are raised even higher in this propulsive family drama that is also a fascinating exploration of the moral responsibility and ethical consequences of AI.

Culpability explores a world newly shaped by chatbots, autonomous cars, drones, and other nonhuman forces in ways that are thrilling, challenging, and unimaginably provocative.”

This was a thought provoking, entertaining and relatively quick read.  I give it a strong recommendation.

An interesting paragraph that defines “anthropomorphic projection”:

“These systems are designed to respond in recognizably human ways. We give them names like Siri and Alexa. We speak to them as if they share our worldview, or care about our feelings and futures. This behavior is known as anthropomorphic projection. We want our helpful machines to be like us, and so we tend to project onto them our ways of understanding the world.”