New Orleans ala carte

Following are a few impressionable moments I had this week while visiting the Crescent City; the city that care forgot.


Some people’s attitude toward something different or new never fails to amaze me. Some of the best and freshest food in the world is available in New Orleans: fresh oysters, shrimp right off the dock, jambalaya, red beans and rice, crawfish etouffee, andouille sausage, Cajun and Creole and la nouvelle orleans cuisine. Yet a few of my friends ordered chicken everywhere we went.



Famous restaurants Antoine’s, and Galatoire’s, local favorite Upperline, deliciously wicked holes in the wall like the Acme Oyster House and Uglesich’s (no longer in business) make New Orleans a gastronomic heaven. Yet several of our group refused to venture outside of the hotel restaurants and if they did, they wanted to eat at a national chain that is the same in every city. Okay, I can understand not liking a particular food, but imagine coming to Kansas City and not eating bar-b-que, turning down a chance to eat at legends like Arthur Bryant’s or local favorites such as Bluestem or 40 Sardines. What a boring world it would be.

I’ll never forget this. Walking down Bourbon Street, with a female colleague that is a conservative Muslim. She covers her hair, wears very loose, long, simple dresses. As she walked her head turned neither to the left or the right. Her vision fixed straight ahead. But she wanted to see it and was a great sport about it all.

Drinking my first absinthe. It is legal now, but the little ritual that goes along with it seems so illicit. Lighting the sugar cube, the tube of chilled water, it all felt so decadent, especially in the haunts of Tennessee Williams and William Faulkner.

Home Sweet Home

I’m back in Kansas City after an exhilarating, informative, productive and exhausting trip to New Orleans. And just in time for Spring Break week, how much more difficult can life get!

My last evening in New Orleans, after all the meetings and conferences were over I finally got time to get away from the hotel and get around a bit, to “press the flesh” as the politicians say. I did the obligatory walk down Bourbon street, visited the Acme Oyster House for a dozen fresh Louisiana oysters, a PeaceMaker Po’boy, and several Abita’s. I then wandered down Royal Street. I wanted to go all the way to Frenchman where some of the better music clubs are, but being on foot and alone I decided to stay close.

On my way back to the hotel I walked through Jackson Square. There is a little amphitheater next to the Café Du Monde where years ago you could hear some good street jazz. Last time I was in town the place had been taken over by Goths. This time it was hip-hop. I watched for awhile and then realized all that was really happening was some great music, recorded, and some poor-ass dancing. Mainly just begging for money. I noticed this quite a bit. The few street performers I saw were of poor quality and money hungry. However, I did hear one older guy on the Riverwalk the first afternoon I was in the city. He was just sitting on the curb in the warm sunshine playing the blues on a old acoustic guitar and filling in with a harmonica. Sunday night I ran across a group of about ten black kids, all playing different brass: trombones, tuba, coronet. They seemed to putting their heart and soul into it.

I couldn’t end my last night in town without walking down Pirate’s Alley, where William Faulkner once lived and wrote some of his early work. It was just getting dark, the courtyards were closed and the artists, merchants and street people were leaving for the night. On the corner I noticed a very small bar; dark, mysterious and empty. I entered to find a redheaded bartender and a nice little drinking establishment in which I stayed far to long.

As the night wore on the little bohemian café became rather crowded. I discovered the bar had two types of customers. Several of the night tours, ghost and voodoo, met there, and there where always a few locals, usually on their way home who dropped in for an absinthe or other refreshment. It made for a nice mix. I drank too much, but had some great conversations and heard a few far fetched stories.

After work...

Our Dean was gracious enough to take a group of UMKC professors out to dinner tonight. We all walked down to the French Quarter and had delicious gumbo and other creole and cajun food. A few of the professors kicked in for some bottles of Fess Parker wine and it was a merry night. After desserts of pecan pie, bread pudding and praline sundaes we walked back to the hotel via Bourbon Street; which seemed to be a shock to some of the more fragile among us.

After two days here I‘m beginning to get a feel for the place. During our time off we offered $35 for an under worked taxi to take us for a personal tour of the Ninth Ward. Later some of us drove east along the river to Slidell. Yes, it is as bad and worse than we had expected. It is a wonder the people of New Orleans are coming back at all, with so much destruction and so much bureaucratic red tape delaying everything.

Years ago I use to visit New Orleans once a year. It has always been one of my favorite cities. The food, the music, the life, the people. It is still an exciting place to me. But something is missing. However the people that are here are doing a damn fine job of bringing it back to life.

A Mornin' in New Orleans

Sunday, 5:00am
New Orleans

Good morning, I’ve been up since 3am. I just couldn’t sleep; my mind is full of ideas. I suppose that is why the school sends people to conferences. The problem is they usually meet in great places, like New Orleans. Then they cram your day full of meetings and symposia which doesn’t leave enough room for fun.

Early yesterday morning when I left Kansas City it was “spitting” snow. As I was getting on the bus to the terminal there was a family getting off. They had waited all day yesterday for a flight to Houston and their carrier had just cancelled the flights for Saturday. All the planes were grounded in Newark due to the snowstorms.

I had forgotten that this would be Spring Break week for many. My flight was late leaving Kansas City. As we got close to Dallas the attendant began to give out gates for connecting flights. He began with Cancun, then destinations such as Honolulu and Miami. One woman on the plane was lamenting that they she was going to miss her connection to Ft. Lauderdale and she was scheduled to leave on a cruise at 4 pm. Good luck!

Okay, it is suppose to be sunny and in the 70’s here today, so I’m not going to complain. It’s almost daylight. I think I’ll take the Riverfront streetcar (It seems to be the only one now running.) to the French Quarter and the Café Du Monde for café aulaite and beignets. And I’ll still have time to make my first meeting.

It Has Been Just One of Those Days...

When the alarm clock went off early this morning I did not feel well. I tried several times to get up and get going. Each time I ended back in bed exhausted. Finally I gave in and called in sick to work. When I don’t feel well the best thing for me to do is sleep. And I did, I slept for hours, almost all day.

Finally late this afternoon I awoke and tried to eat some of nature’s greatest healing food, Campbell’s Chicken Noodle soup. Well, actually I was out of soup but the chicken favored ramen noodles did almost as well. Followed by a few sips of very cold iced tea and I’m almost good as new. Now my goal is to walk the dog, I’m going to try to make one whole block. This time of year it is usually dark by the time I get home from the city and we walk in the blackness. She won’t know what to do, walking in the sunshine. Maybe I should fit her with a pair of doggy sunglasses.

Later in the evening…

I can’t be sick any longer. Most of my friends are leaving for Austin and SXSW this weekend. I have to stay behind because the next weekend I leave for a professional meeting in New Orleans that will take most of the week.

It is with trepidation that I look forward to seeing the Crescent City once again. It has always been one of my favorite places to visit. I revel in the spirit, love the food, and find the diversity of human existence inspiring. But I have not been back since before Katrina.

A few friends that have returned to visit or to help say it’s not the same. The French Quarter is okay, many restaurants have reopened, but lots of the people have not returned. Most street performers have not returned; you hear very little live music. Most of the noise is recorded bands. I’ll give a full report when I return next week.

Out of Hibernation

The amount of daylight is increasing every day. As the temperature slowly climbed above freezing the snow melted. Can spring be far behind? Hmmm, maybe? Here in Missouri we can still expect anything from a late winter blizzard to a riot of daffodils blooming tomorrow.

It is March and I should come out of hibernation. I haven't done a lot of anything since the winter weather arrived in early December. The problem with being inactive all winter is how much you get behind. I have so much to catch up on. I have to finish my income taxes, so I can fill out my FAFSA which was due March 1st. The VW license is overdue. The university wants my Faculty Accomplishment System (FAS) post haste.

What I would prefer to do is to take a long bicycle ride on the Little Blue Trace in a warm morning’s dazzling sunlight. I did go to the YMCA yesterday for a late afternoon swim. I've paid dues all winter and that was the first time I'd set foot in the door.

Speaking of a foot. Dulcinea broke a small bone in her left foot. We were just about to leave for Mizzou to see Cassiopeia’s acting debut in a production of “The Vagina Monologues” when she slipped off the last step and torqued off the head of the fifth metatarsal. Instead of seeing a play at Mizzou we spent the evening in St. Mary’s emergency room.

According to last Tuesday’s NPR Morning Edition, it is the bicentennial of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s birthday. You know the guy who wrote Paul Revere’s Ride and Hiawatha. Because Longfellow had such a wonderful ability to put nature in the context of the human soul the director in charge of the 200th celebration wants weathermen to use “The Longfellow Poetry Forecast”, quotations of some of Longfellow’s poetry while giving weather forecasts. She said, “Maybe he wasn’t writing a forecast, but he used this wonderful imagery as a segue in to his state of thought. It often matched the state of the weather.”

I thought this was a good one for Kansas City on most any winter occasion.

“The day is cold and dark and dreary
It rains and the wind is never weary.”

Or the Longfellow weather quote I prefer:

“Oh perfect day
Whereon shall no man work, but play
Whereon it is enough for me
Not to be doing, but to be.”

Happy soon to be spring!