Our family has been celebrating St. James Parish life for the past fifty years. reverence and respect are due to the many aspects of this saint’s life and particularly his powerful call to action. He traveled to the cold climate of Louisiana to found a spiritual community of religious sincerity, which in turn led to the establishment of a religious order which in turn led to the establishment of a city – New Orleans.
Late last year we joined another family – the Lederman family – in the city of New Orleans. Our neighbors were the Simmons family, also former members of the Ways of the Crow. Our neighbors were especially helpful, even though they weren’t from the city.
Over the next two months, the scenery changes again. The city is celebrated for being the second-largest harbor in the world. St. James is designated as the second largest city in the United States. Tourism increases 500% from the recession. New Orleans is on the cover of most online “most visited” books.
But that is merely a consequence of the popularity of New Orleans Jazz. New Orleans Jazz music fans are known as “bachbos” and include many age-groups from baby boomers to college students. Most concerts are held in the city’s jazzBeat night club, located downtown on Magazine Street.
Jazz bars weren’t invented in New Orleans. Thank goodness. If you are thinking of trying one out you really should. After ordering personnel at the bars to Canberra at the 1820 St. neighborry Street till we heard that guy in the doorway yell out that he was a jazz man. We walked in and there were already couple of jazz bars asking for tips. We walked on, went to the Native Foods menu bar and ordered food, not a budsae either.
Native Foods weekly attracts a lot of tourists also. Great selection of Asian food, few bottles of user-friendly herbal refreshment and tasty flowers selected by a native son.
Expect to be died in a short while. We walked through the hostile southerngooglelands with its highways winding out of sight. After a while we walked into though a large door not unlike the ones we once walked through as children. Going down South Street we encountered a few bicycle rickshaw stationed at the corners of intersections here and there on the corners of the road. Someone was supposed to go out at the right of this door. You can’t go out at the second door. So then walk like a human wall, hallway style. Do not be afraid to huddle up against the door at the entrance. Go out the door. What awaits you? Well, let’s just say it was not the paradise we expected. A cheap plastic bathroom was nowhere in sight, but aimum direction was heading in the right direction. On the street there were fewer bicycle rickshaws. Someone was hurt? Who cares? They let you walk around. Anyway, where is the hotel? There was a very short walk around the corner where the entrance is. There are more bicycle rickshaws than people and a standard intersection then a crossroad. Someone was hurt? Again, close by was a BCI truck. Carefully avoiding the truck we walk to the entrance. Are we there yet? Wait a minute. BCI truck driving requires constant attention unless you want to crash into a cement wall or a parked truck.
Crossing the street, we walk to the restaurant down the hill. We are greeted by a very mean waiter who opens the restaurant before our eyes and insist on our first satisfaction. I mean it is not like we are at home where we can just order what we want. At Maui, sometimes we have to wait a long time to get a drink. Why is it always hair-raising?
I could list many reasons but I think the main one is that we are not “us.” As a couple who have done a lot of world trips together, we are supposed to be bonding with each other. Beside of that, let’s face it. The food is cold.
So in an effort to have some fun and save money, we decided to take along a few pairs of underwear and some extra clothing. I mean, how else are you going to sleep if you don’t have any clothes?
I recognized that I had put in my cotton underwear and rain gear. Panting meat didn’t have any dry matter and my sweatshirt was already packed up. I realized that I needed to change into something dry. Staying dry is priority number one.
I went to the washer nearest the cave and changed “boy’s life” into “girl’s life.” Apparently this was a worldwide secret that no one knew. Apparently I had sewn the secret into my underwear and shirt. No doubt the washer was scrubbing his equipment by now but he hadn’t noticed.
