New Orleans

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Arcade Fire at Jazz Fest at the Fairgrounds

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S. and I have been talking about going to the second Friday at Jazz Fest since we saw Arcade Fire on the schedule. I don’t really know anything about music–I’m amenable, and if you say you like it I will listen to it and probably like it to. My sister sends me songs sometimes, and she sent me some Arcade Fire songs because she liked them, and of course I liked them too, and I keep them on my little ipod, along with other songs E. thinks I’d like by Metric and Snow Patrol and Cold War Kids (who are these bands, anyway?). Do I want to see them outside with S. on a perfect Friday in New Orleans? Oh, yes indeed. After picking up a ticket from I. and getting some grading done, I got on my bike and pedaled along in the sunshine, happy to have nothing in the rest of my day but festivaling. We locked our bikes up to a fence–Jazz Fest doesn’t provide anything like enough bike parking–and went inside. Crawfish enchiladas, seafood stuffed mushrooms, some rum punch, and a whole bunch of music later and we were waiting for Arcade Fire. They were great, with their playfulness and overwrought endings and stage banter that sounded like how I used to break the ice with my students as a very shy, very nervous teacher. S. and I split up, trading time to see Willie Nelson (“You Were Always on My Mind” is such a beautiful song) and Lupe Fiasco, and then I was back for the last couple songs, and they ended with that one that I like to pedal to when I’m taking the Wisner bike path–it fits my cadence perfectly. I have never listened to that song with anyone but me, and here we all were, dancing to it. What magic! And then it was over, but they brought a dulcimer on stage, which is a total give away that there’s going to be more–the dulcimer must be played. And then they were back, and Cyndi Lauper was with them, and they played “Girls Just Want To Have Fun.” I literally started shaking and then burst into tears because I was just so happy. Then it was over, we were back to our bikes, and we headed to her place, got the dog, did a lap around the neighborhood, and settled in to sit on her stoop and split a beer having conversations, variations of which we have most certainly had before and will again. As I was leaving, she wished me nice bike ride home, said she was pretty sure I would enjoy it. I did. Oh, I will miss S. and I will miss festival days like this one when I move away.

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Cinco de Mustache Sign at the Arabella Whole Foods

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Yesterday I had the worst headache I can remember having. It was like somebody had a little sledgehammer and had taken up residence in my left temple, thumping away and sending pain down through my neck and shoulder. It finally broke last night, but I still have lingering pain in my neck and shoulder. When I got on the bike and headed to campus this afternoon I could tell it wasn’t a biking injury. It felt good, after a day off, to be back and spinning mindlessly. It didn’t take long to remember that it’s Cinco de Mayo today. Superior Grill was blocking off the street for their party (Dos Equis bottles for $4, fyi) and as I entered campus, I already saw students carrying those foam cups with red straws–tell-tale signs of frosty drinks. I got to my office and settled in with a stack of papers, pen in my right hand, head cocked to the left. Oh, that’s what hurts. 15 to go, and I can give my body a break. I got back on my bike and headed to the grocery store. Apparently I missed the mustache-and-sombrero competition they held earlier in celebration of Cinco de Mayo. Am I the only one who is kinda creeped out by this “holiday” that just seems to traffic in weird racial stereotypes? I was happy to ride home, turn on some baseball, and cook myself up some broccoli and tofu, avoiding the crowds of drunk people. Sometimes I just gotta be me.

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Cement Truck and Workers at Camp and Louisiana

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I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: commuting by bike means you get to ride your bike every single day, no matter what. I had a lot of stuff to do today, but I got there on my bike, which meant 12 or so miles of spinning along in the sunshine. I started with a ride over to Mid-City to help R. move into her new place (congrats!) followed by a ride to campus to meet with a student and finish up prep for summer school, which starts in two weeks. After a quick stop at the grocery I headed home. My head was busy busy, so on that last couple of miles I tried to get out of my head and really look. There was that all-white house that’s so white it almost glows, a plot of wildflowers (though I guess they’ve been domesticated if they’re living in a yard), a clump of bright orange gerber daisies, that boat (do you think it ever sees water?), and then, as I crossed Delachaise on Camp, this cement truck and a whole bunch of workers making the rust-colored cement smooth as ice in that massive driveway. Why is a cement truck unloading cement that’s spread like frosting so satisfying? This morning when I rolled out they were lacing the ground with steel, and by the time I had dropped my groceries and met with my writing group the place was all done and a little boy was hanging out and getting the skinny from the workers on the big project. I guess I’m not the only one who wants to watch.

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Beignets & Coffee at Cafe du Monde

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I spent the day in Lafayette at the Festival Internationale, but to get there I had to ride in a car. Fortunately it was a carpool, so I got to ride my bike down to the Treme to meet up with S., R., and M. The car ride was long, but the day was perfect–sunny, breezy, music and dancing, and fried catfish over rice with etouffe. I was going to treat myself to a funnel cake, but the place called the “Dutch cakes,” and I just couldn’t abide that. Back in New Orleans, I got back on the bike and headed to Cafe du Monde for beignets and a large cafe au lait. Suck it, Dutch cake! And look in the background–that’s my bike. Ain’t she a dream? What a lovely ending to a lovely day.

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Parked Cars on a Lawn on S. Lopez Near Esplanade

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I got to get up at 6:30 this morning and ride my bike to work–yes, all of this is happening on a Saturday–to give a final exam. We all sat there dutifully, them scribbling along, me looking busy, for four hours. Sigh. I was tired, but the day was lovely, so I rode over to Mid-City to see R.’s new apartment and then just pedaled around until I found D. on a porch. It’s Jazz Fest time, so everybody is on the porch and watching the crowds roll by. I snapped this picture from a most beautiful porch while D. and M. moved cars around like Tetris pieces. Yeah, I’m glad I took my bike, as were those folks walking the wrong way down Esplanade who could ask me, because I wasn’t locked up in a car, “Where is Jazz Fest?” A couple beers and several conversations later and I was pedaling along empty streets on my way home, smooth and mindless circles. I picked up Bicycling Magazine from home and grabbed a salad on the corner. Colin McEnroe writes, “Look what I’ve accomplished, and I have 14 whole gears I haven’t even touched yet.” Oh my, exactly.

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Open Mic at the Gold Mine Saloon at Dauphine & St. Peter

Oh, that was a long time away from my bicycle! I spend every single day on that thing, and then I had to spend an entire week away–I didn’t properly prepare for that, not at all. I got on my bike this morning and just went ahead and pedaled myself back to myself. The rides from here to there today were just exactly what I needed. Using the bike to move through space, that’s what I do now, and it was good to come home. Continue reading →

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Blue Sky & Clouds Over Lake Pontchartrain

Today was my last day of classes for the semester, and in the fall, I’ll be teaching somewhere else. It all felt rather bittersweet. I have loved teaching at Tulane. I enjoy the students, my colleagues, the Take Your Professor to Lunch program (I’ve been eating with charming students on the college’s dime for weeks now), Doug in Media Services, the two way mirror separating me from R. in our basement offices inside the old children’s anxiety clinic (no, really–it’s nice down there (that’s what she said)), and all the campus cats. Fortunately, I get to teach summer school, so I’ll be eased out slowly. Continue reading →

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Multi-Use Path at Audubon Park

Today was another long, 14 hour Monday, so my only ride was my commute to campus for three classes and the last meeting of my wonderful faculty seminar–I will miss my colleagues there, for sure. I will also miss my super-smart seminar students, so today’s last class meeting was bittersweet. I have had great students at Tulane–curious, smart, creative–just a pleasure to learn with, for sure. After that last class I needed to work out the feelings of saying goodbye to the majors (I’m moving on to a new job in Baltimore at the end of the summer), so I headed to Audubon Park for a few spins before my research seminar. Continue reading →

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Super Fresh Meat Market at 2nd & Danneel

Today was the last day of the Patois Film Fest, so I hopped on my bike early and headed to Zeitgeist for a full afternoon of movies. It was a ridiculously pretty day, and it was a bit hard to swallow to go into the dark, but it was totally worth it. My favorite was the last film, Cafeteria Man, a movie about Tony Geraci and his fight to change the Baltimore city school system’s cafeterias. Continue reading →

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Patrons at the Burrito Juke Joint on Dupre

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The weather was just about perfect today, though the wind would a bit slower and the temps a bit higher, if I had my druthers. It seemed like everybody was out today, and the traffic sure made it seem that way. I sped up St. Charles, beating the drivers headed to a home tour–I just don’t get the appeal of those–and the rest headed to Tulane for Crawfest and its 16,000 pounds of crawfish (or, as J. pointed out, two tons). I was feeling a bit crowd-averse, so I headed to Carrollton for lunch and the bookstore. By the time evening rolled around and I’d had my nap, I was ready for company. I pedaled to Mid-City to meet D., M., and S. We headed to Dupre Street to the new burrito speakeasy, “Burrito Juke Joint,” set up in the chef’s backyard. I snapped this photo of the early line as we waited for our orders. The line got longer and longer as the night progressed; we lingered, chatting with friends who had the same idea. The night ended with some porch sitting and some stoop sitting. I asked S., who is somewhat of an expert, if tonight’s backyard burritos resembled a juke joint in any way. Turns out, no. My curried chickpeas and potatoes with rice, cheese, and sour cream wasn’t really a burrito either, but tonight was just exactly what I needed. I rode home weaving through drunk prom traffic in the Quarter, glad to have a very different idea for the perfect night.