Misery Get Thee Behind Me
My roadtrip is being delayed by a faulty alternator. S is on her way back to SF and I’m left to recover from a fun packed weekend – maybe the alternator saved me.
Saturday morning we did the Misery Tour – went over the Claiborne bridge, to the left the barge is now removed and the walls rebuilt. Turned in and drove the blank streets then right on Caffin all the way down to Fats Domino’s house. Then back towards town and right on Elysian Fields and left on Leon C Simon up over the London Canal bridge and took the first left at Pratt and there it is – another ghost town – meanwhile – the fifth house in has an X with 5 dead bodies found. Head to Paris Avenue and take a right, cross Robert E Lee, then right on Frankfort (3rd right), 3 blocks to Carlson and a left. 1/8th of a mile from Pratt and the contrast is unforgettable. These directions came straight from H but as we got to the end S said, I can’t believe that was only a few blocks away.
Misery tour segued into cheeseburgers at Port Of Call, then Bacchanal, but not without first getting stopped by NOPD’s finest for rolling thru a stop sign. S loved this story and retold it fifty times – one of the cops said, “Here’s how it goes, the guy in front of you stops and then turns. The guy across goes. THEN you go.” I got off with a warning. G&L showed up at Bacchanal but L was in a distraught mood over New Orleans – she’s evacuated to NY and stayed there.
Later S and I went canoeing where I practiced my J-stroke to perfection. After a quick rest, we went to MiMi’s to meet G&B, H, and then P came to join us. We were upstairs waiting for our food when a striking woman came running up the stairs with her cell phone to her ear, behind her a bald man was running too – soon there was a lot of commotion and it turns out four black youths were robbing the restaurant downstairs – they had everyone down on the floor and Linda – the beautiful woman with the cell phone refused to let them take her cell or her lipstick – and her husband – the bald man – ran up behind her after he was punched in the head and had a lump the size of a baseball. We had a moment of shock where I and someone else thought it was some kind of performance art going on. Then everyone got on their cell phones and the bartender grabbed her purse and headed downstairs to confront them with her own gun. Meanwhile NOPD was there in seconds flat and after I got Linda to sit down and held the ice pack on her husband’s head – we all took a deep breath and went about our evening. The food arrived shortly thereafter. Another day in New Orleans. S and I left and went to Ralph’s afterwards for a nightcap and P met us there.
Sunday was a walk around the bayou and then we got N’s bike and headed out to the Lakefront and to see West End on bikes. From there we went to NOMA to see the Katrina exhibit. Then it was to Petunia’s for catfish and shrimp poboys and mimosas. We shopped a little then had to get home to get back to the Quarter to march in the second line commemorating the animals who died because of Katrina. I marched with a woman who held a photograph of her dog. He was 15 and at the Vet’s being boarded – the Vet did not evacuate the dogs. I started crying and found it hard to stop as I looked around the crowd at others with their photos. Memorials are necessary. Joseph Campbell said you need to make ceremony of the big things.
We met up with C, who owns Vaughn’s and told her what happened with the robbery the night before – she had heard through her bar network. Her son, J, was with her – hottie. We ended up seeing M of MiMi’s at Bacchanal and talked about the robbery. Apparently they had been casing the place for a while from their bikes.
Bacchanal was fun, we talked to some of the members of the band afterwards, two guys – Martin and Endre from Norway. Then we followed them to the Dragon’s Den while the Cougar was otherwise engaged.
I woke up at 4AM and had just a bad feeling about this single life – I look around and I’ve seen men behaving badly (cads and cowards), women behaving badly (cougars and black widows) and I don’t know what my role is anymore – really. I knew how to be a wife and I know how to be a friend, but I’m not finding a good model for a single woman. I remember I told E when I first starting seeing her that I wanted to get over N and have a life of casual sex and no more relationships. Turns out there is no such thing as casual sex. Meanwhile, the “young boy-toy” concept falls pretty flat as well – I was looking into J’s very beautiful eyes last night, but as soon as I started learning more about him, I had an overwhelming desire to take care of him. I told him he should be back in school, that his mother is just trying to do the best she can, blah blah blah. Twenty years is a great divide. One I don’t want to cross.
My brothers both called me this morning psyched about my visit – it turns out the best relationships are in the end, great friendships that keep expanding as two people grow and change.
The cab driver who brought me to the Can from Veteran Ford said that he was on Banks with his buddy when the water came up – seven feet. They stayed behind with his friend’s dog. By day four, there were eleven people and three dogs. He said one guy got so anxy he took a wood door and paddled away on it. Then about five of them left in a boat, but the boat wouldn’t take dogs, so five of them stayed behind with the three dogs. He said those people wound up at the Superdome. In a way, he said, we thought we were saving those dogs, but they saved us. The Cajun Navy ended up rescuing them on Friday. They gladly let the dogs on the boat. He said his friend was able to get his business, and duplex back and running pretty quickly. “I think New Orleans is going to come back alright. I just don’t know if I’ll be around to see it,” he said as he dropped me off.
G’s friend H said that it will take 3 to 5 years to get this city back and she’ll return at that time. I say stay where you are – if you aren’t here to rebuild – you don’t deserve all of what New Orleans has to give you.
And so it goes.