I am back in New Orleans from a most wonderful week in New York City. I had a ridiculously good time with E., wandering around and getting my National Parks Passport stamped. America’s Best Idea, indeed. NYC is so, so different from anywhere else, of course, but what I noticed was how different it is from where I am now. I live in a really small town. I find it almost impossible to get lost anymore, and it is rare to go out and about and not run into someone you know, or someone who knows you. We know our neighbors here, for sure. It just doesn’t feel the same there, but I fully enjoyed being utterly anonymous and usually a little bit lost. I felt like I couldn’t open my eyes wide enough to take in enough landscape. Now I’m home, and I’m back to my everyday, which meant taking the bike out to stop by the office and the library, the coffee shoppe and the grocery, and sneaking a treat or two. In the midst of all my errands I stopped to look at this shrine set up on Magazine and 9th Street. The second day I was away, Albert Joseph Jackson, Jr., the so-called (but never by me) “Moses of Magazine Street.” died and was given his second line. Albert was absolutely part of my everyday. We would greet each other, exchange pleasantries, several times a day as I rode back and forth along Magazine. And the same was true for so many other people in my neighborhood, as was clear by the number of offerings to him on the street today. He wasn’t out there today, and my everyday felt the loss. He is and will continue to be missed. Yep, I’m home.