yet that's not the point of this post, and i do not wish to bog you down with details here. most of you were there for it anyway, and this is not where i like to hang my political laundry...
well, ok, sometimes, but only a little at a time.
nevertheless, it's a time that j and i oftened referred to as "the yucky stuff."
and when "the yucky stuff" was all said and done, what the two of us really needed was a brief escape from our atlanta lives. we were still a new couple, still discovering each other, our relationship... beyond the (not so) small rough patch, we were still in our honeymoon phase.
so we embarked on our first vacation together. i would never have guessed that that would be the last time i would see new orleans as i know it.
now that i am on this reflective kick, iniatiated by my impending huge, adult step in life (have i mentioned i am getting married in four months??? only a hundred times? right!)- now that evreything on the news is the decimation of a city that i have always held close to my heart- now that one my my most beloved has to sit by and see both his family's and his sweetheart's lives literally get washed away-
with it all destruction and grief right now, i am going to take this opportunity to relay some of the beautiful moments i have lived in n.o. starting with june 2000 and my trip with j -
- rounding the corner to meet our walking tour in Pirate's Alley. the guide asked where we were from. upon answering "atlanta," the guide pointed out his other group from georgia... and with them a long lost friend. another couple that were trailing behind a bit said they almost turned back, frightened by the squealing they heard when julie and i finally pieced the years together and realized who one another were. drinks at that rickety old shack on the corner of bourbon and st. phillip and remincing ensued. i hadn't seen the city since julie and i were 12 and thick as thieves.
- a gift from an adored coworker before we took flight (i left that job behind when we headed to the airport). two 20's and a set of instructions involving hurricanes and a piano bar. j stumped the evening's talent by requesting lady madonna, if i remember correctly, but the hurricanes hit hard and fast and so it's poosible i am mixing my beatles melodies. j kept photographic evidence of this night in a frame until i broke his heart years later: heidi wide-eyed, a crown of tiny braids amongst the rest of my locks, and two straws from two half-full hurricane glasses poking out from my mischeviously curled lips. when we finally managed to get my tipsy butt up the stairs to our suite, i threw j down on the kitchen floor. i daresay that boy had some of the best sex of his life (up until that point at least)that night...
- a haunted b&b, though we were unaware of the fact until she decided i was time to make herself known. it's one thing when you think the maids are changing the radio station on your alarm clock or the walls are so thin and boys those people in the next room are even more the night owl than we are. it's quite another when you realize, wait, we're in an attic apartment and light bulbs don't just explode like that- or smash themselves as it seemed at the time. what an adventure!
- people-watching in the square. a nice older lady stopping to tell us that seeing us there brought forth warm memories of her husband and herself in the days of their youth. there's still that lovely hospitality below the mason-dixon, even if a lot has left my own southern home.
- lunch at the gumbo shop. our first meal in louisiana, and the etoufee was so unbelievable, it was our last meal there as well. or was meant to be, except for that whole missing our flight home thing.
- which wasn't as much a hassle once we realized it was one more night we got to spend there.
- an awkward 12-year-old, setting foot in her first Hard Rock Cafe. seems silly now, but there wasn't a rock and roll hall of fame yet. imagine the awe i felt... surrounded by all that evidence of the beatles and zeppelin, etc.
- first sight of the mississippi. a riverboat ride where i was introduced to swing dancing. sitting on the pier at god knows what hour, 10 years on, watching those same riverboats returning to shore and telling j all about it.
- jamie's insisting he could get that mime to talk, even if it meant stealing his hat.
it's not a eulogy. the city isn't dead. but at the moment it's suffering and times like this warrant some good thoughts to put things in balance.
posted by trixievw @ 9:25 AM
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