The Holidays march on…

 

While most folks are finally getting around to the dreaded un-Christmas-ing of their homes and lives we are moving into Carnival.  And this year, it started, at least for us, a couple days early (FYI, it officially starts tomorrow, Twelfth Night, King’s Day, Feast of the Epiphany…whatever…). 

A good friend invited us to a Twelfth Night party held by his Carnival Krewe last Saturday night (I guess technically that would have been “Ninth Night” but we didn’t quibble…).  He didn’t mention it was also to be his coronation as king!  Quel surprise!!  (And yes, I know, that may seem silly to you foreigners…it isn’t…well, ok a little, but that is also precisely and beside the point…you just wouldn’t understand…)

Then yesterday Jeff and I spent a beautiful warm afternoon biking once more around the Faubourg Marigny lusting after houses we hope to soon bid for.  Carnival being on the brain we popped into our favorite junk shop, Le Garage, where we always find great costume bits and the odd vintage clothing item, and sometimes I do mean odd.

Well, it was a banner day!  A n old, fabulous black and navy blue tuxedo jacket for $15 which I could not pass up.  And, most importantly, the Mardi Gras costume.  Now I won’t picture it here because that would be sacrilege.  Just suffice to say I am very excited about it, it was ridiculously inexpensive, it is strange and wonderful,  and it really gives me a fine ass!  Score, score, score, SCORE!!!

Best (G-Rated, well maybe PG-13 Rated) Memories of 2009

The Endymion Parade returns to Canal Street!

Endymion returns to Canal Street!

Indie, Marion and the Boys

Slidell Hinkhaus comes for Lundi Gras

The Palmetto Kings on Mardi Gras morning

Crawfish Berl on da Banquette

Family Reunion 101

Bunny Hop

Naughty Bunnies

JazzFest!

ARt & Queenie

Great Smoky Mountains

Campfire Girls

Hiking with Dad

Surprise!

Chicago birthday trip

The Simian Formal

Halloween

Snow in New Orleans

Christmas

Literary Masturbation

          

  There is a certain palpable frustration that comes with this desire to write.  Frustration that I can’t seem to tap the keg and let it flow.  Frustration that I have a life rich with experience and yet still little ability to write about that experience with relevance.  More frustration at myself for lacking the necessary amount of discipline to do the work.

            I am certain that these frustrations are not specific to me.  Not that that makes them easier to stomach.  Perhaps facing these frustrations and walking on regardless is a  first step…

            Having the desire to write is obviously a critical base line, at the very least.  But then following through, going beyond simply this inexplicable desire and then just doing it regardless of outcome must be step two.

            Art comes from doing.  Showing up at the page and getting out of the way of the words.  My job is to be available and let the demons in the basement send up the goods.

            I worry too much about outcome.  As if anyone reads what I write anyway!  There should be tremendous freedom in this.  I write simply to write.  For me, no one else.  There is no audience.  There is no demanding publisher.  At the end of the page, if there are other eyes, then that is only that.  I do not write for those imaginary eyes, therefore I have no responsibility to them, no need to cower in fear of their supposed judgment.

            However, I do want to create art from experience.  Gone are the days when I was content to simply journal about life as it occurred.  Mine is a rich experience.  Definitely no richer than other’s but also no less.  Great material slips through my fingers every day.

            These long days that I have the luxury of filling on my own terms may soon be coming to an end.  I know that I will look back with some level of remorse and regret at their passing.  I have not taken full advantage of such a privilege.  And the reasons why will perhaps torment me in more structured times.

            So let me break the unnecessary chains that have kept the words at bay and free myself to create.  Even if only for myself.  Literary masturbation.  Is that any more sin than the physical variety?  Or is it just as pleasurable and necessary?

            Grease the wheels and let them turn!  The only one that is hurt by denying this inexplicable urge is me. 

Holiday Memories

9th Ward Christmas

There’s always room for jell-o!

Fun With Ocean Spray

too easy…

Woes of the Innkeeper, No. 6

 There are understatements and then there are understatements…Last post when I said “it’s going to be a long weekend!” oh if I could only have known…yes, it was a very long weekend, sort of like how the Hindenburg had a very rough landing or maybe like how Cameron Diaz is not a very good actress…

I’ll just brush on the more awkward moments (note how it builds towards a crescendo…not added for emphasis):

• Upon learning that breakfast is served from 8:00 to 10:00 a couple  (here on referred to simply as Retards From Texas or RFT)asked what time coffee would be available.  RFT says, “Yeah?  Well you’ve got two Texans here who get up around 5:30 and need coffee!”  “Yeah?” I said.  ”I don’t get up before 7:00.  Check out McDonald’s down the street.”  I am about the customer service, you know…
• Saturday morning I dutifully dragged my very hung over ass out of bed (a bit after 7:00…) and layed out a lovely and extensive continental breakfast (which included hot homemade cinnamon rolls, fresh from the can).  At 9:45 no one had darkened the door of the Dining Room.  At last, the couple here for a bit of nasty sex romance (see Woes of the Innkeeper, No. 5 posted December 19) deigned to come down but were only interested in a glass of ice water.  RFT later told me they had meant to inform me that they wouldn’t be needing breakfast but it had slipped his mind.  Thanks.
• While “ackin’ a fool”  in a bit of blue comedy at the Harry Shearer Holiday Sing-along (a very convoluted audience participation-heavy version of The Twelve Days of Christmas, a song that I ordinarily hate, where we were asked to act out the Six Geese a-Laying…use your imagination) my cell phone kept buzzing.  After about the fourth buzz I feared something afoot so excused myself to the theatre lobby and answered the call.   Turns out a couple was on the front porch, luggage in hand, thinking they had a reservation.  They did not…I was able to talk them inside for a landing but, in the meantime, Jeff, the leader of our little group of libidinous geese had been called to the stage to win a prize.  Dammit!
• Three cocktails into the evening the cursed call button I was foolish to install buzzed because a heavy flow of water was pouring from the chandelier in the foyer.  Apparently the guests above were being inappropriately and irresponsibly amorous in the tub and were not paying attention to the overflow!  Very!  Nice!

Had enough?

I know I have!

It just occured to me that an innkeeper plays an important roll in the traditional Christmas story.  I bet he was worn slap out by the time Joseph and his pregnant child bride, Mary, sloped up on some old mule, considering that “the whole world was to be taxed.”  Unexpected guests can be such a pain (just ask Mary…).  Late at night.  Probably in the middle of some show of dancing harem girls (remember Yvonne de Carlo in “The Ten Commandments”?).  No doubt he’d been pounding the mead pretty hard.  Up since dawn serving the unwashed.  Beginning to panic because he still had lots of shopping to do and there is always just too much going on around the Holidays that it just wears one down!  Then that goddamned doorbell!

Yeah, they’d have gotten the stable on my watch, too…

Woes of the Innkeeper, No. 5

OK, it’s been a while since I have done any innkeeper bitching.  More out of laziness than lack of material.  And it isn’t even that today’s annoyances are more unusal or anything.   Anyway…

I have been on and off the phone with this lady, who just checked in, for the past week, I don’t know, nine, maybe ten times. 

“This is ____________ calling about Room #3.  Can I get the last minute special for late week after next?’

“This is ____________ calling about Room #3.  If I get the Romantic Weekend Package can I substitute a bottle of Night Train for the champagne?”  (For real…)

This is _____________ calling about Room #3.  Can we get the discounted rate for another room and stay in Room #3 instead.  I like that it has a hot tub (which it does not have…) and a king size bed but I don’t want to pay that much for the room.  I’d rather spend that money at a fancy restaurant.  Know what I mean?”

Yes, I know what you mean, and I cannot believe you think that is actually a good question to ask me.  Despite what my grandfather always taught, there are stupid questions.  That is one right there.

Surely I spent more on long distance calls to and from this woman than I will make on her weekend stay (and I have a very good long distance plan) but she did eventually book Room #3 and checked in right on time this afternoon.  For those of you who are accustomed to my Woes of the Innkeeper series you will know that Pet Peeve Numero Uno for this innkeeper is a guest that does not arrive at their designated time.  So at least she held up that end of the bargain, even calling to let me know she was going to be a few minutes late because of traffic in the ‘burbs. 

But I still expected some drama and those of you in the know also know that drama is something I secretly enjoy a wee bit, on some sick and twisted level…  So when she and BF arrived and did not carry on about how fabulous this place is or how tasteful are my Christmas decorations but instead sniffed around like Eunice and Mama from the Carol Burnett Show, nose and mouth all twisted up as if expecting to find a dead rat shoved around behind the toilet or something (good thing she doesn’t have access to the pantry…but that’s a story for another post… hopefully tomorrow), I was secretly and inappropriately delighted.

Not 20 minutes after I left them alone to begin their weekend of Romance did the front door bell ring (dammit, the front door bell just rang again….hold on a minute….

OK, my other guests just arrived, right on time I must say, but they too kind of have their noses all bent out of shape as if they are expecting me to do something perverted or underhanded or something.  But at least the old lady did say the house is pretty…Jesus, why do these malcontents always come in packs…dammit someone is ringing the buzzer…it’s going to be a long weekend!)

Anyway, so the door bell rang.  I run up the stairs to find the first set of guests have barricaded themselves into the vestibule by the front door while Milo and Buster stand wagging and drooling out in the foyer.

When I open the leaded glass door, BF says, “My lady is afraid of dogs.  Go lock ‘em up!”  (Who says “my lady”?)

Now if you have ever seen my website (shameless plug:  www.blockkellerhouse.com) you will know that the boys are all over the place.  They even have their own page, for Chrissakes!  And this is exactly why.  I cannot have some guest show up who is afraid of dogs and then ask me to “go lock ‘em up!” 

“Didn’t you see the dogs on the website?’  I asked as nicely and as un-accusing as I possibly can (and yes, I’m a good faker when I have to, believe it or not…).

“No, I didn’t ever see the website,” she lied.  “My girlfriend made the reservation for me.” 

And after all the stupid questions she had asked me for the past week?  Really? 

Well, too f’-ing bad!  Milo and Buster have free reign of this house and believe me, especially this weekend! 

They need a bath.  I’ll save that for Monday…

Scary Mary

Back to School…

OK…so let’s jump start this thing.  I’ve been trying to get on with the next phase of my life now for about two-and-a-half years, the amount of time I have had my B&B on the market so I can put innkeeping behind me and get back into architecture.  So today I registered for classes, beginning a Master of Preservation Studies program at Tulane for the Spring 2009 sememster.  (Yikes, I’m a student again in four weeks…)

Universe.  God.  Quetzalcoatl.  Whatever…. pay attention:  I AM READY NOW TO MOVE ON!  CATCH UP!

Snow Day!

Block-Keller House in Snow

Bust

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So today I have to admit I kinda like my job…

Because of the the threat of nasty weather I condescended to drive Jeff to work today instead of making him ride his bike like usual.  (Aren’t I just the greatest?)  By the time I got home the light rain was turning to snow. 

Awww, how cute!  But by the time my espresso was made it was borderline white-out!  In New Orleans!! 

I remember days like this, when I lived back in North Carolina, we would all stand around the office windows fantasizing about how nice it would be to work at home.  Hot coffee, nice music on the record player, light the Christmas tree…maybe even take a nap.  Yeah and work, too.

So today got to be that day.  Lots of coffee and hot tea, nice music.  Warm soup.  Yes, and I’ve even gotten a lot of work done while watching the snow actually accumulate in my garden.

Now about that nap…

A Heart of Bones

My very good friend, Wallace Merritt, called me yesterday afternoon.  “Are you on your computer?”  he asked.  I knew he didn’t mean literally and decided against being a smart ass.  He told me to log on and patiently waited the hour and a half it takes my dinosaur of a PC to wake up.  He then instructed me to go to http://www.neworleansphotoalliance.blogspot.com and to scroll down, which I dutifully did do.  He wanted to hear me scream when I got to this bit:

One Night, 100 Photographers!!

PhotoNOMA
Thursday, Dec 11, 2008
6-9pm
New Orleans Museum of Art (City Park)
Admission is $5 / free for NOMA members

“The New Orleans Photo Alliance, in partnership with the New Orleans Museum of Art, is thrilled to present PhotoNOMA, a photographers’ portfolio night at the New Orleans Museum of Art. Thursday, December 11th will mark the return of this popular annual event, formerly known as Underexposed. PhotoNOMA will feature 100 photographers displaying their work for a community walk through. The event will run from 6-9pm, and is open to the public. Entrance is free for NOMA members and $5 for non-members. The New Orleans Museum of Art is located at One Collins C. Diboll Circle, City Park.

A Heart of Bones by Wallace Merritt

“We are thrilled that the New Orleans Museum of Art is supporting contemporary photography by sponsoring this amazing event,” said Maja Georgiou, event organizer. “PhotoNOMA was very well attended last year, and we expect it to be one of the most popular events in this years PhotoNOLA lineup. We hope photography enthusiasts and the public at large come out to see the wide range of work that will be on display, and take advantage of this wonderful opportunity to meet and engage with the artists.” Photographers from throughout the region will be participating, from the beginning to the well established, including Tim Best, Wallace Merritt and Christopher Porche West.”

 

That shot was from Lundi Gras last year.  I was at a party (hence the get-up) while Jeff and our buddy, Knox, were up the street as part of a photo shoot at Wallace’s.  Well, the party sucked so I wandered out into the neighborhood (somewhat stoned…) and decided to drop by and see how much longer they expected to be. When Wallace saw me standing at the door all tricked out like that he grabbed me by the hand, whisked me through the house, threw me into a chair in his courtyard and snapped that shot.  Just the one. 

When he printed it a few days later he was ecstatic but horrified to show it to me.  Of course, I loved it!  But every time I see it I have to go over to the mirror to reassure myself that I’m not quite that haggard…at least not yet!

Not quite sure how I will feel about seeing that photograph hung on the wall at NOMA tomorrow night though…