With the threat of nuclear war looming in greater measure than any time in my lifetime since the Cuban missile crisis of October 1962, it may appear unseemly to send out another round of my mindless musings. I well remember sitting in Mr. Cartwright's Spanish class at Shawnee Mission East when our principal, Carl Isen, came on the PA system to instruct us to 'duck and cover' under our desks in the event of a nuclear attack. I figure the following mirthful missive is no more ridiculous than the now-long-departed Carl's admonitions.
I should caution potential readers that the Mardi Gras update contains some mature themes, perhaps more accurately characterized as immature. For those offended by such material, please skip the first section.
Mardi Gras 2022
Plato once cautioned, "Boys under 18 shall not taste wine at all, for one should not conduct fire to fire. Wine in moderation may be tasted until one is 30 years old, but the young man should abstain entirely from drunkenness and excessive drinking. But when a man is entering his fortieth year…. he may summon the other gods and particularly call on Dionysus to join the old men's holy rite and mirth…. which the god has given to men to lighten their burden - wine that is, the cure for crabbedness of old age, whereby we may renew our youth and enjoy forgetfulness of despair."
Rather than quibble with Plato's designation that old age begins at 40, my fellow Mardi Gras celebrants, all well north of 40, once again dressed up in our finery and gathered to take the ancient Greek philosopher's advice to heart with our Friday-before-Mardi Gras- luncheon at the Rib Room. Our numbers were reduced to seven this year, but we did manage to down the seven bottles of wine, including one magnum, each served after several rounds of pre-lunch cocktails. The four-hour, bacchanalian feast successfully cured any hints of 'crabbedness.'
Afterwards, we journeyed to Patrick's Bar Vin for further merriment and more wine. A band played, and the crowd consisted mostly of locals who knew one another from their membership in the Krewe of Cork.
While visiting with a woman dressed like a upside-down, plastic box of popcorn, I received a phone call from a friend. I excused myself to go out onto Rue Bienville where it was quieter. I walked almost to Royal and stood on the sidewalk with the phone to my ear. There was no one else around when I couldn't help but notice two extremely attractive young women walking my way. I would guess them to be college age. They had selfie sticks and were exposing their breasts presumably for their own amusement and to record for posterity their uncommon pulchritude at this stage in their lives.
They noticed me, and one of them walked over and stood beside me. As I was still on the call I said, "Bob, you're not going to believe what is happening. I'll need to call you back." The young lady then said, "You look like a kind man." And she proceeded to proffer a generous viewing of her perfectly shaped breasts. I thanked her for her willingness to share, and she again told me that I appeared to be a kind man, and she trotted off to join her friend.
It goes without saying, that this doesn't happen to me every day. But when it does, I find it pleasing.
Iris, Muses, and Nyx
One of our lunch crew, and the youngest, is the CEO of a local construction company. She is also a member and rider of Muses, a group of women who organize a parade on the Thursday night before Mardi Gras. Muses is known for dispensing ornately decorated high heel shoes to the parade viewers. Our friend told us that she makes 30-35 shoes each year to give away to complete strangers, and she makes about 5-10 'special' shoes to give to friends. She reports that she loves the time spent with her glue gun. She brought a nice assortment of Muses paraphernalia for all of us.
I'm told that Iris is the most prestigious of the women's parades, they ride on the Saturday afternoon before MG, one of the most desirable times, and they distribute elegantly decorated purses. One doesn't join this club unless their NOLA ancestry goes back a few centuries. Next is Muses, which was founded about 25 years ago. Our friend was on a wait list for four years before being admitted to the club, with another two-year wait before qualifying to ride on one of the floats. Nyx, was then formed to open up the festivities for the masses, with a membership once reaching 3,500 celebrants. This group suffered a sad unraveling after one of the prominent members posted a message 'All Lives Matter' during the George Floyd BLM days. This was not well received by some, and the friction splintered the once fun-loving group into three bitter rivals.
Mardi Gras was cancelled in 2021 owing to Covid. Alcohol was banned in the French Quarter. To add further insult, the high temperature on Mardi Gras 2021 was 30. Brrh! This year it appeared that people were ready to party and to spend money, much to the delight of the local merchants.
Hurricane Ida also wrought its wrath on NOLA. Our favorite source for the mighty tasty Muffaletta sandwich, The Central Grocer, was closed as Ida blew off their roof. Fortunately, we discovered the tiny deli, Verti-Mart, near Esplanade and Royal, that makes an even better version. While picking up our lunch at the Verti-Mart I also picked up a King Cake, also a very tasty concoction. I couldn't help but notice that the label on the package contained the following warning, "Caution, there is a plastic baby inside this cake. It is not edible." I then wondered if Barbie Doll packages contain a similar warning.
It was gray and chilly on Saturday afternoon which greatly reduced the crowds, painted torsos, and general levels of merriment, but we soldiered on drinking Abita beer and watching the people pass by our balcony.
Dining was exquisite as usual with Arnaud's still reigning supreme, followed by brunch at Stanley's, a close second.
While walking through Jackson Square on the way to meet friends for brunch at Stanley's I overheard snippets from two homeless men shouting at each other. "Yea, I did hard time there too, it was a bitch…. Some social worker chick told me to get up and leave. I told her to go away. And she did."
I'm told that NOLA is now short 300-400 police officers owing to partial defunding, retirements, and unfilled positions. What could possibly go wrong?
We arrived on Thursday afternoon. Bourbon St. was already wall-to-wall partygoers. A big black guy stood next to a sign, "How much ass can you haul?" and was then seen lifting two fat girls in a fireman carry. Good start.
During one of my strolls through Vieux Carré, I encountered a young woman sipping on a straw inserted into a container that resembled an IV blood packet. I inquired as to its contents, and she said, "It's sangria. I bought it from a guy dressed like a vampire. He's just down the street. See?" I love this place.
The building across from our balcony is being somewhat renovated. It could well be one of those old structures in the French Quarter that rests on a foundation made of straw bales. One of our structural engineer, dining compatriots once opined, "The only reason those buildings still stand is habit." Even after the work, the windows and shades are more in the shape of parallelograms than rectangles.
There was no sign of our transgender acquaintance this year. They would have undoubtedly found us had they been here. Even if they weren't looking for us, it would be hard to miss they, as they is over six feet tall without counting the typical 3' tower of hair they wear.
First Date
Judy and I dined with friends recently at Doc Ford's, one of our favorite spots on Sanibel Island. Also joining us were the 27-year-old son of one of the other couples and his fiancé. The younger folks were delightful companions, and in the course of conversation we asked how they met. And we heard the following story:
"I asked her out several times, and she kept putting me off. She seemed to block out her day in 30-minute segments and could never fit me in. I was totally smitten, so I kept trying and being rejected. So, I finally told her, 'I'm only going to ask you one more time.' And she finally accepted my invitation to take her to dinner. She suggested a nice BBQ restaurant in town, and I said that would be fine.
"She told me she would drive and pick me up. Much to my surprise, when we got to the restaurant she drove through the drive-through. After we got our food, she dropped me off at my house. We didn't even eat together. I was sharing a place with eight guys at the time, and I walked in from my extremely short date holding a paper bag with my dinner. My roommates were astonished, "Dude, that must not have gone well."
At this point of the story, the fiancé weighed in and said, "Yes, I told my Dad all about our first date, and he said, 'Way to go girl.' "
Christmas time travels with the family
Judy and I were waiting for a flight in the Denver airport. We were traveling with Fred, Lucy, Waverly, Finn, and Charlie, but they were sitting quite some distance away. We had our backs to one of the giant people movers and were surrounded by other travelers. Waverly then walked by, but she didn't see us. I called out, "Hey little girl, want some candy?" She looked my way and said without a hitch, "Sure mister. Whatcha got?" The man sitting next to me instantly got up and left.
****
A few days later, I found myself at a beach concert in Chileno Bay, Mexico (near San Jose Del Cabo) featuring the Spazmatics from Austin TX. I had not heard of this band prior, but found them to be highly energetic and hugely entertaining. The event featured a dozen food and drink trucks, and one could even get their face painted and wear Hells Angel's hats and bandanas, but I declined.
The sponsor of the event couldn't have known it was Judy's and my 53rd wedding anniversary, but it was. The crowd was extremely well dressed and attractive. I'm guessing the next oldest person might have been 50. I couldn't help but notice the number of strikingly tall and provocatively dressed young women. Many, but fortunately not all, had duck lips. This might be pleasing to Donald and Daffy, but not to me.
Judy, Lucy, and the boys left early as the venue was too noisy for their tastes. Waverly and Fred stayed to dance the night away, and I was pleased to be totally invisible and just take in the sights and sounds sipping on a fine wine.
Fred and Wavy joined me at my table to take a breather as the band took a break. When Waverly left to grab something from one of the nearby food trucks I mentioned to Fred, "It appears, there are a lot of professional women here." Unbeknownst to me, Waverly had returned and was standing behind me.
The 12, soon to be 13, year-old then queried, "What do you mean, 'professional women?' "
And I responded, "You know, veterinarians, architects, doctors, and such."
And she said, "I'm not buying that."
****
Fred, Lucy, Waverly, Judy, Fred's parents, and I were brunching on the patio of the Querencia Club. An attractive woman in her 40's accompanied by an older man I presumed to be her father, approached Fred and Lucy and inquired, "Are you the parents of Charlie Coulson?" Everyone rolled their eyes and undoubtedly shared the same thought, "Oh dear, what has Charlie done now?"
Instead of responding, "Why do you want to know?" Lucy fearlessly acknowledged that she was indeed Charlie's Mom.
The young lady then offered a $100 bill to Lucy, which she courteously declined. The visitor then explained, "Charlie found my diamond ear ring at the bottom of the pool. It was a very expensive diamond, and it's only appropriate that he receive a reward for his kind and honorable deed." After a bit of back and forth, Fred graciously accepted the reward on 11-year-old Charlie's behalf.
A few minutes later Charlie and Finn arrived, and Fred explained what happened. Charlie then asked, "Would you invest that for me, Dad?"
****
Lucy, is a bit of a germophobe. This condition has taken on even greater import with the onset of the Covid pandemic. For reasons I can't explain, I get sniffles when I eat. I often dab my nose with a tissue, then apply Purell to my hands. Instead of kudos from my favorite daughter for this thoughtful hygienic behavior, I received the following lecture:
"Dad, think of it this way. You've got an intrusion of cockroaches crawling all over your kitchen counter. Purell kills the nasty critters leaving them in place. Hand washing clears them off the counter, and they go down the drain. Go with the latter."
