New Orleans

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Traffic at St. Charles & MLK

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I flew back to New Orleans today after a week setting up my new life in Baltimore. The weird thing about transitional periods is that the are, well, transitional. I’m in my second sublet of the summer–all my stuff is packed in boxes in my office that’s not really my office anymore–and I’m just here for three more weeks before I go back, and I really just want to get to riding those hills in Baltimore so I can get better at it, but I also don’t want to leave New Orleans. I mean, I know how to live in this town and how to bike around it, and it’s kind of scary to think about actually living in that sprawling metropolis! And the biking! I know these streets, all the cracks and traffic patterns and tendencies of cars and pedestrians, and I trust myself to ride in a straight line no matter where I’m riding, which means that I’m never really afraid. I snapped this picture while waiting for my turn at the light on St. Charles and Martin Luther King, watching the cars go by, listening to the streetcar come up behind me, avoiding joggers on the tracks. There’s a lot going on, but I am expecting all of it. I’m still not sure what to expect of Baltimore’s streets, and I’m both anxious to find out, and wanting to stay here, in my comfort zone. There will be a healthy amount of fear management in the next year. But not tonight. Tonight there was an easy pedal back downtown, an order of beignets, a good chat with my pops, and a walk along Frenchman, listening to the music start to pour out of the doors. Yeah, let’s try to stay in the present, but get in some longer rides to improve that cardiovascular fitness for the hills. It’s a balance.

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NOPD Shirts For Sale at the Station on Royal Street

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Today’s ride took me Uptown from my current digs in the Marigny for lunch with N. and then to the office where I took care of last minute things for my trip to Baltimore tomorrow. I had meant to also stop by the courthouse as the Danziger trial started again, but the skies opened up and kept me and my bicycle in the office for most of the afternoon. I rode home under crazy thundering skies, stopping for a treat and then coffee with S. I had a bee in my bonnet about how little I have been taught about Frederick Douglass–he was one of our premier statesman! Why don’t they teach us that in schools!–and she filled in some blanks for me–friends, man, they’re the best. After a quick stop at home to get the cat out of the rain, I was back on the bike to meet R. and her kid for dinner. I pedaled up Royal as fast as I could to beat the rain, just stopping to take a picture of this sign outside the 8th District police station. T-shirts for sale? Really? I wonder who buys such things, and if the market’s been hit by the fallout from Danziger or Henry Glover or the cops arrested during their own prostitution stings (I thought we had decided to decriminalize!) or the other cops giving instructions to keep a special eye on all the Black men in town for Essence Fest or any of the other scandals showing this to be one of the most corrupt forces in the nation. Nah, I’ll pass on the shirt. After dinner I did my loop around the Bywater, deftly avoiding collision with that driver taking a left turn in front of me at the intersection of Poland and St. Claude. Look alive, people. It’s dangerous out there, but that’s no reason to stay off your bicycle.

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Loading Docks on the Mississippi River at the Fly

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I spent my Fourth of July at home, working on this and reading that and just generally relaxing through the moodiness that accompanies moving and one’s seemingly imminent departure from New Orleans until it was time to get out of the house and on the bike to see how folks were celebrating Independence Day. My first stop was the casino, a guilty pleasure of mine. I like to go in there with $20 for some time with the penny slots and drinks I would never order in real life–today it was a white wine spritzer and white zinfandel, neither of which I’ll be ordering again. I peck away at the penny slots and after just a few minutes there is absolutely nothing in my mind except pressing that button. It is one of the few places where my mind is quiet, odd as that sounds…maybe I should look into meditation. Whatever. Today brought a surprise $100 jackpot, so I took my winnings, got a treat at the frozen yogurt shoppe, and began a self-satisfied pedal Uptown to meet friends at the Fly for a picnic. When I got there the grill was going, there were hungry flies and ants, and a kid and a ball and a collective desire to play catch. I snapped this picture of the river not because the river is “America,” or anything like that (though I could certainly make a case for the pivotal role played by the Mississippi and docks like these in the growth of the nation), but because it was just so pretty there today. We threw and caught the ball, letting the kid set the pace, and my mind was pleasantly empty again–it was lovely. I rode back downtown, grabbed a burrito and a large soda, because Harrah’s was buying, ran into friends at the river, watched fireworks, and then caught up with S. and L., who put their bikes in the spare room and shared their bottle of champagne. Not a bad day, not at all, and easy to do because I travel by bike.

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Blighted House Over a Fence at Chartres & Marais

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I was so worn out yesterday that I went to sleep far in advance of my summer bedtime, and still I woke up exhausted. I spent most of my day waiting to go to sleep, except for an interview with J. for his documentary project (I committed to film my strong opinion that democracy rules, and if you really read our Constitution and Bill of Rights, it’ll blow you away). I fully expected to stay off the bike, but once I got out on it, it was just good to pedal. I can’t believe that after riding a bike every day for years, it still never fails to lift my mood. I did a spin around the Bywater–man, I love some bike infrastructure–and stopped to visit L. and S., two dogs, and a passel of mosquitoes in L.’s backyard. I snapped this picture, dark as it is, of a blighted building over the fence. That’s New Orleans–there are signs of decay and blight over the fences, but on the other side is somebody’s backyard with dogs and projects and picnic tables. Yep, you’ve got to keep your eyes peeled.

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Sour Orange Flavored Raisels and Cinnabon Flavored Cream of Wheat at the Walgreen’s on Baronne & Canal

Advanced warning: in this blog I will sound like a cranky old lady. I grew up on fast food. I prefer a chicken nugget to anything that looks like it could have come from a bird. I ate American “cheese” sandwiches for lunch and dinner for the first two years of college–except for Sunday brunch, when I’d often have two grilled cheese sandwiches and a diet Coke. In short, I’m hardly a food snob. In fact, sometimes I stop by the drug store on a bike ride home to grab a snack. Continue reading →

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Jose Holmes Jr. Testifying at the United States Courthouse at the Hale Boggs Federal Building on Poydras

I didn’t plan to go back to the courthouse for more testimony in the Danziger Bridge case this afternoon, but after reading about the case and watching that Frontline episode this morning–I’m on vacation–I felt the pull of the courtroom. I hopped on my bike, leaving camera and cell phone at home (hence, no picture), and headed downtown. Continue reading →

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Relocation Assistance/Not Hiring at 1825 Tulane Avenue

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My excellent summer roomie E. invited me to join her to sit in on the Danziger Bridge trial that started Monday at the federal court building downtown on Poydras. I don’t know if you are following this trial against police officers charged with shooting and killing two people, injuring four more, and executing the most brazen cover up since the Henry Glover case, but if you’re not, I advise you read up. It is such an important case, about the extent of the police state, its limits or lack thereof during disaster (and if you haven’t had a disaster in your community yet, just wait–we do things by “disaster” now), and what justice will look like in a city that is, as J. often says, at war with its people. I had the day off, so I decided to hop on the bike and ride down to check out today’s witness. Yep, our trials take place in open court. I locked up on a street sign and headed in for two chilling hours of slow, tedious testimony about a seven page report, a seventeen page report, a thirty four page report, a forty six page report, and a fifty four page report (though the defense says that wasn’t a thirty four page report–those were notes) that taken together, painted a picture of a most elaborate conspiracy to obstruct justice. Michael Lohman, the NOPD lieutenant testifying today, when asked why he did it, said he didn’t want to get in trouble, or get his friends in trouble. His biggest regret is for the people who were killed, injured, and whose lives are forever scarred by these murders. They didn’t deserve it, he said. It is deep, this part where staying out of trouble was worth so much more than the lives and blood of others, a stark example of what happens when deep down, we don’t recognize that other people are real, and lead full, complicated, messy lives, just like we do . People are complicated. I stayed for part of the cross examination–Lohman acted alone, those were pages, not a report, and preparing a report means you wrote it all alone–before calling it a day and heading out for a bike ride. I snapped this picture out on Tulane Avenue. Relocation assistance is available for those affected by the new hospital project. Not hiring, though. This city, man, this flippin’ city.

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Blue Sky and Clouds From the Intercontinental Hotel Pool at St. Charles & Poydras

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I had the day completely free and I’m on vacation, so I figured I’d fill it with reading and bicycling, my two favorite things. I spent the morning reading–check–and then hopped on the bike for the super-quick ride downtown to meet L. at her hotel. Rumor was, she had a belated birthday prezzie for me. I locked up to a stop sign and headed inside. I live in New Orleans, so I never stay in hotels. Turns out, there are giant hotels with pools on their roofs! I snapped this picture between swims and before the rain started pouring. Yep, rain again, and it totally thwarted my afternoon riding plans. I ate my Pinkberry under the Doubletree Inn and rode home under light sprinkles, figuring I’d made the best of unpleasant weather. Tomorrow, tomorrow.

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Book Carts For Sale at the Morial Convention Center

I woke up with leaden legs for the second day in a row, and I didn’t even bike anywhere yesterday! I guess lots of walking and dancing aren’t exactly rest, but I couldn’t imagine two days in a row without a little pedaling, so even though I deigned to drive to brunch this morning, I took the bike down to the Convention Center for another visit to the ALA convention. Continue reading →

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Librarians Making Their ALA Convention Schedules at the Convention Center

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My sister’s a librarian, and so are some of my favorite people I’ve never met (thank you, interwebz!), so when I found out the American Library Association was holding their national convention in little old New Orleans, I was pretty excited, hoping everybody would show up; then budgets and schedules and my surprise loss of my apartment conspired to keep quite a few folks away. But that’s no reason for me to stay home! After riding around doing this errand and that, I ended up at the Morial Convention Center with thousands of librarians, all with their badges and red tote bags and 300 page program books. I don’t have the $200 to get in to the thing, but I can roam the halls and see librarians in their Annual habitat. After New Orleans flooded after Katrina, ALA was the first convention to honor their contract and come here. ALA has been on the front lines of protecting us against the prying eyes of the Homeland Security state. Librarians are the guardians of one of our last shared public resources. I mean, they get a copy and then let us all read it, one at a time? That’s pretty flipping radical in this moment where everybody needs their very own one of everything. Yeah, I can’t afford to go to their show, but I’m happy to sit here and watch them march along, figuring out how to help the rest of us find what we want to find, read what we want to read, and ask questions we didn’t know we wanted to ask. I hope they all have a wonderful time this weekend. And that the Convention Center gets some damn bicycle racks.