Day 186: Six Months Later

This is my first evening at home in New Orleans in six months when I am not visiting from Houston and/or Mardi Gras is not going on. Stuff is everywhere. For instance, the scanner is on the living-room floor under Dune: The Butlerian Jihad, surrounded by a stack of unread magazines, a bag of clothes and a can of garbanzo beans. Funny that this particular still life almost sums up my material life and interests. Normally compulsive me would shudder at this collection and return said objects to their “proper places” around my domicile, but … eh. I am content just to sit in this recliner, be cooled by the air that frolics through my space, and to know that all of my things and I are now finally home.

Thanks to all for your birthday wishes, especially brimful, who nicely broadcasted that particular vital statistic on her blog the other day. The attention was nice for a change, to tell you the truth. It’s never bad to know that you are loved, but the eHugs and real hugs this year were terribly appropriate – the right sentiments from the right people. The birthday celebration was mostly Lenten for two reasons:

1) it fell on Ash Wednesday this year
2) the evil cold virus (or some mutation thereof), which I have successfully thwarted for almost a year now, touched down and made full contact with my immune system on Lundi Gras day. Yes, ladies and gents, the DayQuil is out from hibernation. Bring on the Sierra Mist Free, a blankie and the remote control! The woman is contagious! And before my mom whips out her #1 diagnosis of this cold, I agree with her. It was because of all this roaming around and nothing else. If three trips between Houston and New Orleans in one month via car and airplane don’t constitute “roaming around,” I don’t know what does.

Feed the cold and feed it well: D and I dined at the exquisite Asian Cajun, where Chef Philip Chan himself wished me a Happy Birthday and his team made us a meal fit for royalty. Chef Chan’s sauces are so delectable that I will eat cardboard that has been smeared with them. As we walked back home, D said, “When you see me eating everything including the garnish, the food is excellent.” If you are in New Orleans, make it a point to stop at this great restaurant at the corner of Decatur & Bienville in the Quarter.

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A mere cold did not stop this intrepid wonder from meeting up with Mark of Wet Bank Guide, Troy of Gulf Sails and a few other New Orleans bloggers last night at Fahy’s. Mark and his wife, Rebecca, are neat people (with ample upper-Midwestern background) and I look forward to getting to know them more in the coming months. As D and other close friends kept stealing my attention (those troublemakers), I didn’t get a chance to talk much with the rest of the bloggers, but I hope to organize another one of these within this month. That will afford the bloggers who missed this meetup an opportunity to catch up. It might become a regular thing – who knows?

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The next few posts will center on stories and pictures from Mardi Gras, the city and the upcoming mayoral election. The good news: the election is on. The bad news: the press refuses to take any candidate seriously who is not Ray Nagin, Mitch Landrieu or Ron Forman. As a constitutional republic and a global champion of democracy, can we at least pretend that we don’t deal in foregone conclusions?