Jazzfest and the ghost of Mark Essex

A dock broken from Katrina on Lake Ponchatrain

Thursday evening we flew into New Orleans, my third time visiting in the past nine months. Friday's workday began off Lake Ponchatrain, which was a $25 cab ride from Burbon Street and led through parts of the city still untouched since Hurricane Katrina. Houses still bore faded orange spray painted symbols of #'s dead, # of survivors, and other information for rescue teams. The watermarks on trees and houses in this area came up to about 6-feet high, and dropped as we continued toward the lake. The damage there was less from the levies but from the actual storm, its wind knocking down structures and tearing down light poles. The picture above is a dock that I crossed from a 2"x12" board. The folks fishing in the background were nice, quiet folks who hadn't caught anything since morning.

My room was poolside! The view from my sliding glass doors

The eerie hallway of 330 Loyola's 18th floor

After work I took another cab to my new lodgings for the weekend! The cab driver, a nice local named Bill, remarked as we pulled in to the Holiday Inn Superdome: "Hey, this used to be the Howard Johnson back in the seventies. Did you hear about the Second Battle of New Orleans?" He described in detail how a Black Panther came to this hotel guns ablazin' and didn't stop until a police helicopter riddled his body with more than 200 rounds. Sure enough, wikipedia confirmed Bill's story, including information on where the shootings took place. The first shots were fired outside room 1839, which is now a Concierge Lounge. I made the picture above in black-and-white so it would seem more dramatic (you can see the ghost of Mark Essex peeking out of the housekeeping closet if you look really closely).

My entire Friday night

Friday night I kicked back and enjoyed my new diggs, listened to some good music and got a whole lot of relaxing in, taking advantage of my own private paradise at my room and the pool. I realized that pools are the ultimate in leisure, as just sitting next to them drinking a beer is all one needs to make it a vacation and lime it up!

Gearin' up for Jazzfest! It was around 11am and I had only drank one bottle of wine!

So fine. I was geared up for my Saturday afternoon touring a big chunk of New Orleans history of celebration at Jazzfest so I drank a whole bottle of Pinot Grigio. I didn't intend on drinking that much, but my glass kept refilling itself as the morning hours wore away.

The Porta-Party at Jazzfest

Unfortunately Jazzfest turned out to be a great disappointment. Maybe it was the rain. Maybe it was the $50 ticket, which excluded entry for those poor and suffering enough to make some really moving music. The beignets were amazing, but the pork chop sandwiches sucked! Everyone was white and retired, white and teenage, or black and picking up trash (among the few black musicians). I left after about three hours and went home for a much needed nap.

That night I went to the French Quarters, where local friends Kristin and Rhiannan showed me around town. The highlight of the night was a show at a club called d.b.a. where local group The Happy Talk Band took to the stage drunk and howling. Their songs reminded me of David Lowry (from Cracker) with subtexts all about Katrina and being poor and in love in New Orleans. Of which I was neither...but could still somehow relate.

Messin' (Around) With Texas

In windy Amarillo, where the camera blew me out of frame

Behold, Texas! A really big state with lots of flat and vast fields of dirt, sagebrush, and cattle. There's a good amount of stucco. And proud bumper stickers. Did I mention the dirt? But really, I enjoyed my time in the Lone Star State, especially the Mexican culture that paints the Southern half of the state with wonderful music, food and kind folks. It's damned windy, to the point of giant clouds of dust making its way across the plains and into your eyes, which are already blind from the bright sun and dry from the desert climate. And I couldn't stop singing George Strait's famous hit "Amarillo by Morning," which I discovered from a Spike Jonze video of the same name.

I also got to drop by "Prairie Dog Town," in Lubbock, TX. It was really boring, but those darned rodents sure were cute!

A happy Mikey at Prairie Dog Town in Lubbock, TX

And now for a promotion! Moveon.org is sponsoring a video contest called "Obama in 30 Seconds" that stars...ME! Okay, so I'm not the star, but if you look very closely, you'll see me looking cheerful and happy in a couple shots:

link to video here

You can vote for this commercial, among others, here. But don't vote this one in only because I'm in it, but because it's the best entry (and my good friends at More Dust Than Digital produced it).

A Cold and Windy Second City

Last week I made the typical round of the Northeast: Albany and Syracuse kicked off the week and closing up shop in beautiful Cleveland, OH. Then it was off to Chicago via American Airlines, and I was happy to find that my flight was not one of the 3,000 that had been canceled. Still, it was a good three hours late and I barely arrived in time to swing over to my pal John's house and change into regular clothes before heading to Second City to see "Between Barack and a Hard Place."

My new Chicago friend: a 20-something Fidel Castro

Saturday night I got the opportunity to experience a real-life Chicago party...the communist party! The scene was very much like Halloween, with folks running around with hammers, sickles, and the occasional breast:

Feeding grapes to a very drunk communist temptress at the Communist Party

All in all, Chicago seems to be welcoming me with open arms and I look forward to my big move in June. Have I mentioned that yet? Yes, I'll be picking up and heading out of the Pacific Northwest this Summer for a real Midwest adventure. Until then, it's nice to be out of the wind and rain and here in sunny Shreveport, LA.

America the Beautiful, America the Wierd, America the Sloppy Drunk

The surreal landscapes of Bristol, CT offer windowless towers, lonely fields of dead grass, and a crazed me running around taking pictures of myself

The adventure continues as I remember such American hotspots as Sioux Falls, SD, Jackson, MS, and Manchester, NH. I've seen parents smoking cigarettes and drinking beer as their children play in the waterpark at the Holiday Inn outside Fargo, a cute little lizard in Pasadena, a middle-age businessman vomiting on Bourbon Street.

The newest member of my Seattle family, the camera shy "Esteban,"
being cradled by Brother Andy

I spent my week vacation at the end of March getting over a horrible cold in Seattle. St. Patrick's Day events included buying green beer for myself and a homeless man in Atlanta, GA. I partied like a Saturday on a Wednesday in Jackson, MS, salsa dancing with a couple older gals and drank whiskey with an amazing Nashville rock duo called Silver Lion's 20/20.

The aftermath of a tornado that swept through Downtown Atlanta, shown here
at the Westin Peachtree where I spent the night

There's much that I've learned in the past month. Patience is necessary only when whatever you're waiting for is out of your control and is provided with a good book, a newspaper article, or a game of Tetris on your phone. Never order a cheeseburger medium-rare. Sometimes strangers make the best drinking buddies.

Helping the bouncer at Tootsie's in Nashville keep out the night's riff raff