I wasn’t planning on going out tonight, but when M. asked if anyone was watching basketball games outside with beer, I jumped on board (and partly so I could go ride my bike in this beautiful spring weather). I took the Surly and headed over to the bar in Bayou St. John, and the pedaling felt so easy and smooth, just like I like it. Continue reading
Month: March 2011
Tulane VS Southern in the Women’s NIT at Fogelman Arena

Today’s bike ride was a short one, but it took me somewhere good: up to campus to see the Tulane women’s basketball team take on Southern in the first game of the NIT. I love watching sports, and college basketball tourney time is one of my favorites (in spite of my qualms about college sports, but that’s for another time). And for six bucks I could get a little taste of some live basketball action–big win! I snapped this picture halfway through the second half, when Tulane was up by 30. Yeah, it wasn’t even close, and I’m sure that had something to do with all the knee braces on those Lady Jags. Oh, and perhaps the smothering defense of the Green Wave. Something else entirely was happening in the case of the bands, however. If I’d been playing in the Tulane band, I’d have been peeing in my pants. After the game I rode home, made a quick stop at N.’s for a nightcap of basketball, and was grateful for the cool nights of spring. Here’s hoping there are many more.
Empty Stage at Southern Repertory Theater at Canal Place
I have a long history of insomnia, which means I’m quite adept at dealing with it, but that doesn’t mean after a few days of it I’m not tired. So yeah, today I was tired. My commute to campus felt twice as long and my legs were heavy and slow. The students were game, though, so classes went well as they picked up my slack. After writing this rec letter and reviewing that honor’s thesis, I was finally ready to bike home and take a quick nap before getting back on my bike and heading down to the theater for Intríngulis at Southern Rep where I would bartend for my ticket. Continue reading
Blighted Building at Bernadotte & Baudin
I spent the day working from home on the endless revisions of this endless article, and after a lovely chat with the lovely R. who stopped by to recount yesterday’s victorious master’s thesis defense–yay!–it was time to take the bike out. I headed toward the lake ISO pelicans on this perfectly sunny spring day. I needlessly worry sometimes that that 20 mile loop will ever get old, so today I took a left after I rolled off the Jeff Davis overpass and rode around Mid-City for a bit, figuring I’d end up at the lake at some point. Continue reading
White Herons Building Nests in Audubon Park
As I was riding my bike up to campus today for the first day back from spring break, I kept thinking about the gazillion people who don’t commute by bike. You are really missing out, people. It feels so good to get some energy out and pedal to work first thing in the morning. Continue reading
Blue Skies Over the St. Patrick’s Day Parade at Magazine & Josephine
Another parade? Are you serious? I am done with parades for now. I’m in the place of intense relief that carnival is over and things are getting back to normal–I’m doing my dishes, cooking actual meals, folding laundry, and answering emails. I had way too much to do today to go out for yet another parade. Continue reading
Birds in a Tree at Lake Pontchartrain
Five years ago I quit smoking. The first three months were terrible–lots of crying and worrying that I’d be logged on to my support site for the rest of my life and feeling like I’d accomplished some amazing feat by managing to wait 40 minutes for an oil change–how do nonsmokers wait? That seems like a zillion years ago. Continue reading
Display of the Armada at the National World War Two Museum

In all the hubbub of Mardi Gras, I almost forgot that I was on spring break. Huzzah! That means there is still more fun to be had, so after getting a little of this and a little of that done this morning, I hopped on the bike and headed toward the WWII museum to drop $23 on the exhibits and the Tom Hanks-narrated 4D (?) film, Beyond All Boundaries. I have ridden by this place literally hundreds of times, but B. is in town and wanted to go (he’s the kind of guy who always wants to go to whatever–I deeply appreciate that), so there we found ourselves, ready to learn how they wanted us to learn about the war. The displays themselves were an endless retelling of battle after battle with the persistent overtone of American Heroism, as is to be expected at a place like this. The film, dubbing itself an account of “the most important event of the 20th century,” tried, I think, to get us some of the embodied experience of the war: flashes of light signifying gunshots, a guard tower shining its spotlight on us, attempting to recall the guard tower of a concentration camp, a powerful flare that left a haze in the shape of a mushroom cloud in your eyes, and even fake snow–the Russians had it tough. I snapped this picture of a display of the armada, which I think was meant to overwhelm with its suggested size. The whole place is meant to overwhelm with America and pride and heroes, but there was a serious disconnect between that theme and the words of soldiers written out on displays, sounding in oral history booths, and narrating that truly odd film. Those words–about the brutality of war, the inhumanity of it, the way it required soldiers to break with their own souls in order to survive, the stories of the smell of death emanating up through the stratosphere and into the noses of pilots, the words of the man who refused to be called a hero for being one of the less than ten percent of his battalion to survive–that’s just chance, he said, those words undid the attempts of the museum to tell a story of American triumphalism. As one voiceover in the movie said, the quickest way to make a man a pacifist is to send him to war. The museum tries to recreate the war in some way for visitors, but it fails because it just isn’t an experience you can drop in and out of. And why would you want to? War is not a video game, and that’s how the museum seemed to represent it far too much. After that I needed a quiet ride in the cool evening air, and that’s what I got. I am immeasurably lucky to be here now as I am, and I know it.
Ribbons in the Wind at Royal & Esplanade
I woke up early this morning, put on an old prom dress and some eye makeup, tossed my tiara in my bike bag, and headed out to see what New Orleans was doing on a Mardi Gras day. I rode up to St. Charles and took a left and happily swerved between the kids throwing their footballs in the streets and parents pushing strollers and people drinking and dancing and laughing while waiting for the last parade of the season. Continue reading
Bobby J. and Stuff Like That at Woldenberg Park for Zulu’s Lundi Gras Fest
Here’s the thing. I love riding my bike, but Mardi Gras time is really more walking speed. I see things entirely differently when I’m walking–I’m closer to the ground and moving three times more slowly, so I find myself wandering places I don’t normally notice. And there’s a lot to see during the carnival season. As a guy I was chatting with as we paused at a stop sign on our bikes pointed out yesterday, Mardi Gras is all about fantasies (and the only fantasy we saw around us was the dream of finding a place to put the car–take a bike or walk and expand your fantasy life!). So yes, this is another guest post from a pedestrian. Continue reading