My Life

There’s a Strong Chance That I Won’t Be Sober for the Next 5 Days

Note: This is an older post, so the babblings about an impending adventure no longer apply, at least not at the moment. As my last two missives concerned New Orleans, the lovely Angie at “King Ben’s Grandma” requested that I share more Nifty Nuggets from NOLA. Here’s another one…


How’s that for a completely ambivalent blog post title? Ray Bradbury would be proud, assuming that he envisioned such things as blogs just as he envisioned so many other developments. (He’s on my mind because I recently finished his Dandelion Wine for the umpteenth time. That book is not so visionary, but it is brimming with heart and warmth and a masterful command of words.  If you’ve always avoided his work because of that “science fiction factor”, Dandelion is the perfect place to gently enter his world, where your respect for his artistry will grow as you flip each page, and there are no robots to be found.)

Okay, enough of Ray-Ray. His estate certainly doesn’t need my promo. By the time this pre-scheduled post (another modern marvel!) drops out of the stratosphere to land in your blog feed, I will be airborne towards New Orleans. (Or perhaps we’ll already be checked in to our beloved and tiny but charm-filled hotel, The Inn on Ursulines. It’s a great place to stay, if you’re like me and enjoy experiencing local character. It should not be your destination if you want room service and valet parking and the corporate-smothering of true hospitality. (Go stay at the Hilton if you want that.) New Orleans is a city rich with treasures, and you should be spending every waking minute tromping about and finding those things. All you really need, habitation-wise, is a clean room and a comfortable bed. If you need more amenities than that, you’re probably on the wrong adventure.

But speaking of adventures, some of the rumors about New Orleans are true. Yes, Bourbon Street, or at least a certain section of it, can be a hedonistic party, with lots of people getting very drunk and then doing stupid things. It’s the nature of that particular beast. And it’s not an environment that suits everyone, because drunk, stupid people can get very annoying, very fast, if you’re not in the mood. (At the same time, if you don’t want to see that kind of mess, then don’t go there. It always amazes me when people whine about the decadence of Bourbon Street. Did you not read the brochure? Why are you even in this part of the city if such a thing offends you?)

Personally, I like to spend at least part of one evening traipsing about in the “touristy” section of Bourbon Street, because the sheer absurdity of heavily-libated people running amuck and fully displaying their failures as civilized human beings is a fascinating anthropological study. In fact, if you are having a difficult time understanding how Donald Trump could even possibly be considered presidential-worthy by certain segments of the nation’s populace, take a stroll on Bourbon Street between (roughly) Bienville and St. Ann, and everything will become crystal clear. Some people are idiots, and high-octane alcohol crystalizes this plot point.

But once I cross that particular fix off my agenda, I generally stay away from the imbecile implosion. It just wears you out, even if the local bands playing in many of the bars are quite good. (This is one aspect that can keep me on this part of Bourbon longer than I should. The live music is usually entertaining, even if some of the bands tend to be working from the same playlist. There was one night when we heard “Brown Eyed Girl” at least 20 times. Luckily, I like that song or I might have been forced to have a mild psychotic break in the midst of it all.)

Instead, we spend most of our time in the other areas of the French Quarter, wandering about, discovering new places and revisiting old favorites. (Note to potential first-time visitors: If you manage to stay at a hotel within The Quarter and plan to spend most of your time there, you don’t need to rent a car unless you have mobility concerns. The Quarter may seem rather immense at first, but it’s really not. You can walk to just about any destination with relative ease. Besides, the entire area has been designated a National Landmark, and this is evident in the charm and character of the buildings. You should savor this charm whilst casually strolling, not catch brief glimpses of it as you whiz past in a rented sedan.

Of course, the minimal pain that the manual labor of actually getting some exercise might cause you can be eased by an adult beverage. Possession and consumption of alcohol in an open container in public is perfectly legal here. Naturally, said container must be plastic so we don’t end up with shards of lacerating glass littering the streets after clumsy patrons get distracted and forget that they are carrying something. The bars and restaurants will happily provide you with “to-go” cups upon request; don’t be shy if you are in the middle of a cocktail at Pat O’Brien’s and your traveling companions suddenly decide that they can’t live unless they head to Preservation Hall right now. Take your elixir with you.

But don’t be in a hurry, whatever your destination or activity. The vibe is very laid-back in The Quarter (and in New Orleans, generally). Nobody is in any real hurry to get things done, but it will get done. Just relax and be patient, especially in the restaurants. (Two of my fave places to eat: Pere Antoine’s (Cajun, slightly pricy but not outrageous) and Mona Lisa (Italian, moderately-priced). I have had many orgasms in both places.) Your food will eventually get to your table, but you might need to entertain yourself for a bit. Ergo, you should probably order a drink to keep you company, especially if you have reached that point in your vacation where you don’t really care for your traveling companions as much as you did on the first day.

Anyway, I suppose I should get to my point. I really hadn’t intended on the rambling, spontaneous travelogue above, but it’s actually appropriate in that experiencing the French Quarter can follow the same meandering path. You may start out for one destination but never make it there, enticed by little surprises you encounter along the way. And the particular details I babbled about serve to underscore the original message for this post:

I’m going to be doing a lot of drinking in New Orleans, most of it voluntarily. This means that I will most likely be away from social media and tumble weeds will be blowing across my sites. (This should not be much of an issue here on WordPress, since I have a few posts scheduled to drop in the interim.) On the other hand, I can’t rule out that a fluctuating blood/alcohol ratio might prompt me to spontaneously pontificate on things I find myself doing and seeing in NOLA, and there’s the slight chance that I might post something trivial, mundane or completely lacking in substance or maturity. (Such is the case, when imbibing; everything is much more fascinating than it really should be.)

Therefore, I am officially apologizing in advance for any tawdriness and debauchery you may find documented on these pages over the next several days. The Big Easy just does things to you, and you have to embrace it and enjoy the ride…



Previously published in “Bonnywood Manor”. Slight changes made for this post. And yes, I realize that I just used this photo in a recent post. These things happen.

Bit of trivia: The day after the original sharing of this post, I released one of the shortest blog entries I have made at Bonnywood. With just a few words, I hopefully captured the spirit of New Orleans from another angle. You can find that snippet here.


18 replies »

  1. YAY! I’m clapping like a silly school girl, and I’ve got a big grin showing every wrinkle in my face!
    I noticed that Mardi Gras is the day after my birthday this year. Of course I’m thinking of The Big Easy… and Nawlins😉

    I do believe that you would be a perfect travel companion for me to truly enjoy my first time visit. Who knows what the future holds…our paths may have already crossed once, long ago in the early 80s, in the small town of Miami, OK…

    Thank you for sharing more Nawlins, and the other short post was great too! Even sopping wet, rainbows are festive and beautiful!🏳️‍🌈

    Liked by 3 people

    • I do still wonder about the possible Miami crossing. I’m certainly not ruling it out.

      And yes, I can be a fairly decent traveling companion. I love experiencing different places and cultures and just people-watching in general. I will try almost anything at least once, because you don’t know if you don’t know, so you might as well find out. Of course, there’s the small caveat that folks who travel with me often end up in my little stories, which I don’t think is such a bad thing, but be warned… 😉

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Would be fun to experience once in NOLA. I’ve been to Karneval or Fasching (Mardi Gras) in Braunschweig, Germany, where it’s quite a big thing and started around 1250. Lots of fun with drunken revelry as well, but I suspect that NOLA’s is much more free-wheeling. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I don’t think I mentioned that I strayed (against strict orders) into the French Quarter. Shucks…I even bought an antique fire extinguisher from the guys who were robbing a store but I didn’t realize it at the time. I was just happy with my ill-gotten booty! They only wanted five dollars for it! What a steal! 🧯

    Liked by 1 person

    • Okay, that right there is a story that you really should share in more detail. And I’m a little bit jealous that you scored such a bargain (despite the possible incarceration) because those antique stores in the Quarter are usually WAY out of my price range… 😉

      Liked by 1 person

      • Well…what had happened…my friend Judy and I did as I said…wandered into the French Quarter against strict orders from the ex. We somehow found ourselves walking down this dark alleyway, but being naive or stupid…or both, decided to continue.
        We noticed this unmarked truck parked outside what looked like the back door of a shop and three men were loading (more like throwing) stuff into the back of it.
        Thinking nothing of it, we wandered inside to have a look-see.
        Judy immediately spotted an antique lamp and asked how much. They looked at each other like she had three heads. In the meantime, I spotted the fire extinguisher and asked how much they wanted for it. Again, they looked at me like I had three heads. Finally, one of them said “how about five dollars?” I whipped out that five and walked over to Judy, who was still fondling that lamp like it was Wentworth Miller. Since they hadn’t come up with a price, she said “how about forty dollars?” They took the money and stood there for a few minutes, until we left.
        When we got back to the hotel, we were telling our hubbies about out “finds” and I thought for a minute that my ex was going to be a widower. LOL
        I think it wasn’t until we got back to Orlando that we realized we had bought ill-gotten booty from a couple of robbers.

        Liked by 1 person

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