NOLA Pyrate Week

Had fun last weekend at the opening of NOLA Pyrate Week. Hung out for three hours or so with a group of pirates who had descended on the Pirates Cafe, met a lot of the freebooter folk.

Sadly, the camera was acting up so we didn't get a lot of pics. Here are a few we did get.

 

Me, with what I regret is the only picture that worked of Seika 'Hellbound,' right, quartermaster   of NOLA Pyrate Week. Sunday she officiated at a pirate wedding of Cherokee Jenny Dubs & Master Edward ‘Doc’ Lawless. At least, also with his back to the camera, is Charles Duffy, who heads up the NOLA Krewe of Pirates. We affectionately refer to him as Max's "drunken bastard uncle Chuck."

 Do not know these three, but they seemed very nice. And you've gotta love the guy's leatherwork.

Also do not know this fella's name, but he was a great guy, reminded me of several other pirates I esteem, and shared with me both a drink from his gigantic flask and his recipe for what he called brandywine.

Amon and Merlot, a pair of fancy freebooters originally from Colorado. Funny story, she assured me we'd met before, in 2004 (or 2006, I don't recall) in San Diego at a pirate festival. I told her that wasn't likely, since I haven't been to San Diego since 1979. She was sure the Pirate Guys, the guys who'd invented Talk Like a Pirate Day were there. I asked, "Were they collecting money for anything?" She said yeah, as near as she could recall they'd been selling something. Bloody pirates!

 

 The wind didn't cooperate in fluttering this rather large pirate pennant, but it was a dandy. And look closely at the guy's garb and gear. Most of it is made from junk! Including his shoulder pads, made from old speakers. Very cool. Nice work!

Pictures from Millie's Visit

This is mostly pics from Millie's visit. They were here from Wednesday March 13 to Tuesday March 18. Tori took them down to tour a bayou nature preserve, where they saw many gators, lizards, snakes, the whole slew of swampy things. Like this big guy lazing on the far bank of the bayou.

From left, Tori, Millie, Alan and Kate.

Millie's boyfriend, Kevin, has a lot of energy. He decided he wanted to dig a fire pit. Not sure why, but he did. Took a day and a half. Good sized pit, lined with bricks and paving stones that lined the backyard. We weren't doing anything with them. Now, we rarely use our backyard, it gets much too hot back there in the summer, with no shade. But on those occasions when we do, we can have a fire.

They went into New Orleans to check out the night life Sunday night. You might think Sunday night is a strange time to go bar hopping, but this is Nawlins, baby. By the time we picked them up a little after two down in the French Quarter, they had had a memorable time. I'm not sure how much of it they actually remembered, but a time was had.

And then, right before they left late Tuesday, we went back to the Quarter so they could see it by day. Had a lo9t of fun - and a few drinks. Here are some pix of that.

Kevin and Millie on St. Ann Street, next to Jackson Square.

Millie in a mask shop – Maskarade on St. Ann Street in the French Quarter

And with a perky little hat in the same shop.

Kevin found a nice pirate mask

Millie also found a butterfly mask, which suits her.

Waiting for the absenthe to be ready. There's a whole ritual to the venomous green drink.

And the Pirate Cafe also features a house drink, the Toxic Baby. Read the label.

And Another Surprise

Now Alan is here.

Alan is a friend from St. Croix, a former classmate of Millie's whose family moved to San Antonio in the great Hovensa Diaspora. Back on the island he just started hanging out more and more at our house until he was sort of semi-adopted.

This one Kate worked out. She communicates with him online all the time. He was here during Hurricane Issaac, but we hadn't seen him since. Kate (who knew about Millie's surprise visit) had suggested wouldn't it be great if Alan came out too.

Three or four nights ago she asked me, "If you got a phone call from Alan asking you to come pick him up from the airport or whatever, would that be OK?" Sure, I said, as long as I don't have to drive to Texas.

That was the extent of the conversation – I swear it.

This morning about 7:30 the phone rang. Alan was at the bus station and wondered if we could pick him up. Sure, Tori and I said. But first we had to figure out where the bus station IS.

That accomplished, we drove out and there he was. We were back in 40 minutes. Alan was exhausted, but at that age, it's not a real problem. We were sitting in the living room when at about 9 a.m. Millie came4 up the hall. She saw him, gasped, backed up several feet, then ran up and hugged him.

Turnabout is fair play.

So it's a full house at the Baurs for the St. Patrick's Day weekend. Talk about serendipity.

Happy Surprise

Millie is here!

Millie and her boyfriend Kevin came to visit. The hard part was, she told me they were coming, but it was supposed to be a surprise for Tori, so don't tell her. You think that wasn't hard to keep from her for a month? I picked them up at the airport yesterday, drove home. Walked in, then a couple of minutes later Kevin walked in and casually stood in the living room. Tori saw him and screamed. Millie came running in saying "What's wrong?"

Much tears and hugging.

Right now Tori and the kids are out finding out what they can about fishing. It's something Kevin would like to do. Apparently he's an outdoorsy boy from the wilds of Michigan, now trapped in the concrete jungle of Manhattan. But Tori and I don't know about regulations here, or seasons or anything. They'll also be going to a gun range (Millie loves shooting) and we'll be going out to dinner. The most exciting thing in the plans is the downtown St. Patrick's Day Parade. Don't want to miss that.

Especially since I missed Mardi Gras this year. I'd been feeling generally run down anyway and then shortly before the day I tweaked my knee badly enough that marching with the Krewe of Pirates through the bead-strewn streets of the French Quarter was not really possible, and it seemed a little much to ask someone to carry me.

There are some pirate activities coming up this spring that will require little more than sitting on a bar stool drinking. I think I can handle that.

Meanwhile, though I wasn't able to celebrate Mardi Gras, Tori and Max sure did, if walking something like 20 miles counts as celebrating. Max is in the band at East Jefferson High and they took part in four parades this year. Each parade was about five miles long, usually a little more. And the band needed parent volunteers to chaperone, make sure the kids got hydrated and generally keep an eye out. Tori did three of them, including the big parade – the Krewe of Bacchus Parade. When you see news coverage of a Mardi Gras parade in New Orleans, this is the one. Actor Hugh Laurie was the grand marshal. Apparently it was a wonderfully insane time.

And Tori got a foot run from me when she got home after each parade.

Parades, Comics and Seahawks!

Back to work

Tori and Max are a little tired today. Max's high school band marched in the Krewe of Caesar parade last night. 5 miles. When they got home, I rubbed Tori's feet. Because DAMN. (And in case you were wondering, I work Saturday nights, so I wasn't just being lazy.)

We're in Mardi Gras season now. Parades all over the area for the next couple of weeks. The band is taking part in four or five. Tori is signed up for the Krewe d'Etat parade, and we're both chaperoning the band for the big one, Krewe de Bacchus, March 2. Hugh Laurie is this year's grand marshal. I'm just hoping to survive. Seriously.

Other things -

• The Seahawks won the Super Bowl. That made us very happy. It was a great day, we crushed the Broncos. I have never missed the Super Bowl – I have seen every game since the first one. But this was the first time my team – the team I care about, the team I root for – has won. Your team at some point gets bumped from the playoffs and you find another team to cheer for during the playoffs, always vowing, "Next year it'll be us." This year it finally WAS us!


But I can't gloat publicly around here. New Orleans will not soon forgive Seattle for being the team that beat the Saints soundly during the season, then bounced them from the playoffs in the divisional round. So I don't wear my Seahawks gear out as much as I might if I lived in, for instance, Seattle.

• Couple of weeks ago Tori and I volunteered at Comic Con. The kids were all going, so we thought, why not? It actually was fun, and a totally different world than I'm used to. Saw more fezzes than a Shriner's convention. Interesting that there was almost no Star Trek or Star Wars here. Lot of Dr. Who (including a fully functional Dalek,) lot of anime characters, lot of Homestuck. "Walking Dead" was very big. Still can't believe people pay $200 and more for an autograph from a disinterested star, but it's their money. It makes them happy. One girl, I'm guessing about 8 years old, walked out of the exit with her autographed photo of Matt Smith and burst into tears, overwhelmed by the emotion of actually seeing him.

• Bunch of other stuff has happened in the two months since last I posted. Had a lot of weather, too. It seems to be edging toward spring. We're getting ready to try again to grow tomatoes. Last year we got great vines, no fruit. Planted too late, it got too hot. We shall see.

• Thought for the day – This from Dave Barry. "There comes a time when you should stop expecting other people to make a big deal about your birthday. That time is age 11."

What's Been Up?

What's been up for the last month or so?

• Thanksgiving. We went on the road and visited our friends from St. Croix, the Lopez family, in their new home in Houston. It was a short trip, but a delightful one. The Lopez family may be the most lovely people we know.

It was also the first vacation I have taken in about six years – since the 2006 trip to the Oregon coast, I think – unless you count my whole peripatetic life of late as a vacation. And even then, I worked a little on the computer. But there was something about locking the house, getting in the car and driving that just felt good.

I wasn't crazy about Houston, especially driving in Houston, but I enjoyed the trip very much.

• We had to cut that trip short because the East Jefferson football team continued to succeed and we had to get Max home Friday in time for the game. They won. They kept winning until they played the championship game in the Superdome. VERY COOL. They were playing the number two team in the state, the defending champs, and they pulled it off. The E.J. Warriors are the state champs! Hooray! And Max played in the Superdome!

• Christmas was nice. I've been told that my Christmas list was too boring for words, but I really do enjoy my new potato peeler. Really! Man, that shucks the skin off spuds like nobody's business! We enjoyed the lights at LaFreniere Park again – but man it was cold! With a stiff breeze that brought the temp into the 30s. We enjoyed the lights, but we didn't linger.

• And maybe it was the cold, or the weird hours we tend to keep, or just the luck of the draw, but we've also spent too much of the last few weeks sick. It's always one of us. First Max, then me, then Tori and Kate. Then Max again Christmas day, and back through the loop. Coughing and hacking and the whole thing.

Unpleasant, and made everything more difficult. But we're OK. We enjoyed the holidays, and we'll get by.

• That's not all that's been going on of course, but it gives the highlights. There's been much in the way of writing, as well, but I'll get to that. And much in the way of reading, and some movies. I'll get to all that, too.

A Surprisingly Lovely Afternoon

Serendipity is the knack for unexpected discoveries. It is the talent for discovering things you didn't know you were looking for.

Last Saturday we set out for Costco, me, Tori and Max. They'd just opened the first one in New Orleans area – the closest before now was 300 some odd miles away in Alabama. I was very excited. Probably too excited, I admit it. I love me the Costco.

So we're heading east on Airline Boulevard. Tori asks, "Did you map it?" Of course I did. "When?" A couple of days ago. (Clearly, I had been looking forward to the trip to Costco.) I had it in my head, the route was very clear to me. But when we got to the street where I was supposed to turn left, there was a no-left-turn sign, as there are on so many streets here. So I had to go past, then work back to the main drag, where I turned right and started looking for the store.

And looking. And looking. You know how this goes. It persisted in not being where I though it should. Tori and Max were supportive – by which of course I mean they rode me unmercifully. All in good fun, ha ha! Silly dad!

After about five miles I knew it wasn't where I'd thought it was. The options were to retrace my steps, go home and remap it, or ...

We were approaching City Park. Tori had been there a year ago when the Lopez family came to visit. I had not. So we pulled in. It's a big park, and it includes the New Orleans Museum of Art and a sculpture garden. The museum is huge, and as we drove up, both of my wife and son – who both love me dearly – kept asking helpfully if maybe this was Costco. Of course it wasn't, it said art museum right on the front. 

We drove around, then parked between the sculpture garden and the coffee shop, where we ordered coffee (Max, hot chocolate) and the biggest beignets I've ever had. From my limited experience beignets are roughly the size of golf balls, and totally delicious. These were roughly the size and shape of throw pillows, and equally delicious. And we were served by a young waitress who looked more like an anime character than any human I've ever seen. So that was fun.

Then we walked through the sculpture garden. Wow!

'Heroic Man' by Gaston Lachaise. He's even more
impressive from the front.

I don't know art, but I know I liked this. Big bronze pieces, massive warriors and abstracts. Kinetic sculptures and pieces that interacted with the surroundings. More than 60 pieces in all, each displayed to best advantage among the wandering footpaths. OK, sure, there were a couple of pieces where I raised an eyebrow and said, "Really?" A couple of modern pieces, one that looked an industrial air conditioning unit, another like a pile of stuff that had fallen off a truck and the workers, mistaking it for art, left it in place, or in situ, as the artistic types might say.

But mostly, it was just a lovely day and a lovely way to spend that day, just enjoying the scene with my family. They even stopped chiding me (as much) about Costco.

I hadn't planned to visit the garden, of course, so I didn't bring my camera. All I had was the crapcam on my cell phone – which is not only not a smart phone, it's the world's dumbest phone. The photos aren't very good, don't do the place justice, so I'm only including a couple that didn't turn out completely shitty.

Instead I'll refer anyone interested to the website of the Sydney and Walda Besthoff Sculpture Garden.

Crappy photo of a cool Calder

We spent about half an hour over the coffee and beignets, and another hour in the garden. It was great.

Then we got back in the car. Tori correctly said that from where we were, there was a shorter way home than retracing our steps. But I backtracked, all the way up to the intersection with Airline. No Costco. She raised an eyebrow when I drove through the intersection without turning.

And sure enough, just a couple of blocks later, there it was. The brand new, bigger than life Costco that had opened just six weeks earlier. We spent the next hour or so there, and it was great. If I had turned right instead of left, we'd have been there in a matter of minutes.

But we also would have missed a beautiful afternoon in the park, and a much better time than I'd planned. Sometimes the wrong turn is the best one.

Apropos of nothing: Thursday night's game between the New Orleans Saints and the Atlanta Falcons was a pretty lackluster affair, But when it was over, and the Saints had hung on to win (or the Falcons had squandered their last chance, take your pick) people in my neighborhood were setting off fireworks. Seriously. People in New Orleans hate Atlanta. I mean hate. They hate everything about the city, especially the Falcons. Hate, hate HATE. It surprises me. Atlanta is fine in its own way, I guess, but New Orleans is so demonstrably superior, so much cooler in every way, that hating the other big southern city just seems like wasted emotion.