KATRINA AND THE FRENCHMAN:
A JOURNAL FROM THE STREET

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The ending.

 

March 17, 2011 - St. Patrick's Day

I woke up with the sun and went to check G's symptoms on the free internet console, and to see if there was any Tylenol behind the front counter. A staff member told me they were out but gave me cash out of his pocket to get some across the street. G took it for his headache and went back to sleep. I was right, it was heat exhaustion. Tallying up the heat and sun time vs the lack of rehydration, it made sense.

When we woke up again at a nicer hour, I asked G if he wanted to eat breakfast. He held my head on his shoulder and told me to, “Shh. Stop.”

I have been looking forward to a late morning where I could just relax and let my mind rest. Apparently, this is hard for me to do. But it was our vacation, and that’s exactly what I needed to hear. I needed to just... stop.

When G was feeling better we went to Checkered Parrot again for a little lunch. G was feeling well enough to have a PoBoy and I had a salad (which had lots of lunch meat to make it more of a meal). We knew Louie had a window between work and the 7pm parade, but had no idea how the day was going to play out. We called Liam back and he came to pick us up in front of the hotel.

While we waited, James Gandolfini drove by in the passenger seat of a white van. I smacked G’s butt to get his attention. That’s someone you don’t see everyday.

Liam not only took us to the Garden District, we got a whole tour of the area with details about some of the buildings including the university, library, other mansions...

I'm a "lazy, half-assed tourist" because I didn't even roll down the window to take this pic.

Borders is closing. Something a writer never wants to see.

The Mississippi from an (army?) base in the District.

Everyone should see the Garden District. It’s a gorgeous part of New Orleans and made me realize again how little I know about the city. After the tour, we drove to the block party Uptown. Liam saw a few friends there. But, you know... we’re not locals who know everyone, we’re not twenty-somethings who start drinking at noon, and our host wasn’t drinking. G and I had one plastic cup each to get into the spirit but we couldn’t even hear each other over the music. Especially with my new hearing aids, this was not an easy atmosphere for me. I took a bunch of pictures...

A massive, middle-of-the-street boom box.

Drunk or dork? This guy standing on the cooler ended up spilling the whole funnel
on the girl to the left before drinking dude could drink it.

G and Liam chatting in the sun. WITH hats on.

The bar that seemed to be hosting the whole event.

Liam's friends took this picture for us.

Two cool dudes.

You're even cooler when you lean in.

Buncha very white, Irish (or not) folks getting sunburns and drinking. All in green.

We ended up walking to a nearby side street and getting caught up. I told Liam about the new hearing aids and Fibro pain being lifted, we told him about our trip to NY during the blackout, and more about our kids and work. He told us more about how he came to be a chef in New Orleans, about his kids, and where life has taken him.

And then, our host went even further to invite us back to his house to meet his family before taking us back to the Quarter. So off to his house we went. His kids are adorable and they showed us everything from their Buzz Lightyear stuff to the jewellery tree. The kids wanted us to stay and play Wii with them, but we really had to head back.

Liam came to dinner with us. Chefs have a high standard and I know that the place on Bourbon Street didn’t meet his standards, but I was about to fall over and just wanted something decent that wouldn’t make me sick. We went to Arnaud's remoulade (despite being on Bourbon St.), but my blackened catfish rocked, Liam had a burger, and G had great looking steak. Now keep in mind... I’m used to being on Ontario time, where a 7pm start MEANS a 7pm start. I didn’t want to rush through dinner, and I didn’t want to miss the St. Paddy's Day Parade.

I really wanted to see the parade, to be a tourist and catch some beads. It was more important to me than I could have explained to anyone at the time. I needed a piece of that first New Orleans trip we had years ago. The joy of being silly and carefree and even childish. To reach out and try to grab beads, because in that moment there’s nothing better than the party in front of you.

I spoke to a guy waiting out on the street with us. His name was Eugene, an older guy who traveled alone. He’d been to the Philippines for fifteen years in a row and this year he chose New Orleans instead, on a whim. He told me about the beauty and the poverty in the Philippines. He also told me a story about a sewing machine that basically came down to the message... have faith in people.

I had to see Big Al Carson and hear some really good blues. When the three of us got to the Funky Pirate – another stop we had to make because of previous happy times – a man over by the wall showed us two stools available beside him. How nice! I went over to grab one while the guys scouted for a table. I started chatting with Wall Guy about the city and he told me it was his first time there... but before you know it, his WOMAN came over and told me to back off, put her arm around him to turn him around, and faced her back to me.

I laughed hysterically. Goodbye, Wall Guy. I laughed all the way to the back of the room and sat with the guys at a table and told them what happened. They had a good laugh, too. Before the next set started I wanted to go to the bathroom.

Apparently, Liam said to G, “Marcy really can just strike up a conversation with just about anyone, can’t she?”

When they looked up, I was giving Big Al a hug up on stage. G said, “Yup, case in point.”

I had a chance to talk to Big Al, who is a SUPER nice guy. I told him about our trips to NO and why we were back to see him. He said he wanted to hear my blues song and I gave him my website address. Not that I expect him to, but if he does visit I’d be thrilled.

It was hard saying goodbye to Liam that night, but it was getting late for him to drive back. Big hugs all around. Many thanks again, Liam, for a wonderful tour, for introducing us to your family, and for wonderful company. I’m so glad we got caught up. Let’s not wait so long next time, okay?

During the rest of the night we had some hand grenades, wine and beer. I danced, and chatted with the table full of girls next to us. I talked with the people behind me – super nice people – I have their email address, must get to that. I DID get to see some of the parade and catch a few beads and be a part of the festivities when they passed by... at TEN at night. (Sheesh!) I also met a JetBlue Captain who came over to sit with G and me. I passed around Big Al's tip bucket and didn't hear him ask my name again - hearing aids means you hear everything but need to relearn pinpointing information.

Oh and... In case you’re wondering, we did not see the waitress who smiles when she serves you but looks sad when she walks away. Perhaps it was her night off, or perhaps she’s moved on to something that made her happy. I hope it’s the latter.

Thank you, Big Al and the Funky Pirate. Thanks to all the nice people I met. What a great night. G and I had fun, hope you all did, too.

The next day...