YCMTSU

I had promised a continuation in my last post Time—Around and Around—another in a series of mine on the nature of time. However, I need to be back at my desk to continue some research to complete that story. I'm delving into the history of the Jemez people of northern New Mexico, and reaching back beyond history to describe the Valles Caldera, a super volcano to tie the three points of the time triangle together.

That sequel is on hold until I return home, as I'm traveling with the bride and ensconced in a suite on the 21st floor in New Orleans overlooking the mighty Mississippi. She's here in her capacity as the CEO of a national association for their annual convention and clinical symposia. I'm here as her cabana boy, which has perquisites for all concerned. A light massage and a warm towel works wonders. She flew in last Friday, and as you would suspect, I drove—taking the back roads and avoiding spending even ten seconds on an Interstate.

I was in New Orleans not so long ago, to attend a memorial in support of a dear friend. I was able to capture some images for a post about the trip and presented it to Open Salon in New Orleans—We Dat. 

So in this little interlude, we'll look at a hodgepodge of images from this most recent trip. I'm still here in NOLA, scheduled to drop the lovely bride off at the airport tomorrow afternoon and begin my own leisurely journey home on backroads—two-lane roads when possible.

I was off again before dawn from home, in a effort to get out of Dallas as quickly as possible to beat the traffic and to have at least a little bit of a run without overbearing heat. When it's really hot out, I keep my camera and a few lenses in a mid-sized cooler when on the road. The cooler spent the night in the garage with the lid open to get acclimated to a warmer temperature. Since I drive with the air conditioning on, the cam and lenses are in the car and get cold from the AC. When I stop and get out to take a shot in the hot weather the cold cam and lens hits the heat and condensation covers the cam inside and out. It's not just a blurry pic from the condensation on the front of the lens that's the problem, it's the condensation that occurs on the inner elements of the lens and on the inside of the cam that's the problem. So by keeping the gear inside a cooler that's acclimated to outside temperature, there's a much less likelier chance that I'm filling the inside of my gear with damaging moisture.

East Texas spelling problems.

I'm not sure if the above was deliberately misspelled for back-roads advertising. The other side of the sign even had a different version.

I love finding spots like what you see in the next image. An old building by the side of the road, this one built in 1919. It sets me wondering what it would have been like to have a brand new office back then and based on the side yard it could easily have been an early oil or gas drilling company in what is now an largely abandoned part of east Texas.

The flora changes gradually as you move south and east through Texas. The high plains prairie and sturdy deciduous trees give way to piney woods, and colors change from a dull to a brighter green. I was shocked a bit when I got out to take the pic of the old building, I wasn't expecting it to be quite that hot. It was hellish, as OS friend Leeandra said the following day, it was satanically hot.

The piney woods give way to a more tropical ecosystem as you get further into Louisiana. I spent the night in a little motel in Deridder, Louisiana and got up early the next morning to finish the trip into New Orleans. I was scheduled to accompany the bride on an evening soiree, but it wasn't a problem to get there a little after noon.

On the road south of Opelousas, again taking the longer route, my attention was arrested by something that flashed by on the side of the road. At first I thought it was all the flowers in the graveyard that made me stop and turn around, but then I realized that New Orleans is fairly low country and I'm not sure I ever saw a graveyard that didn't have tombs above ground. I took a couple of shots, taking my time and trying to show respect to all the families involved.

Everyone gets flowers

Water of life

Quebedeaux

I finally arrived, got out of the car at the valet stand at the hotel (there was no other option, and they soak you for parking at $33.00 a night, but the alternatives were even less attractive). I immediately broke into a sweat, since I had been comfortably cloistered in the car for several hours.

Across the street there was a large ad covering the front of the building for the New Orleans Museum of Art featuring the iconic blue dog of George Rodrique. I like George, mainly for his impressive bio and for what he's done for the community and survivors of Hurricane Katrina, but while the art is interesting and whimsical, I think people pay too much for it and its ubiquity doesn't seem to lessen its value.

He has a boutique on Royal Street in the French Quarter too. The prices are truly amazing. More power to him, but I don't think I'll be investing, even if I could.

I finally made my way up the room and got the bejeebers scared out of me. There was a clicking noise that seemed to be coming from outside and when I looked up there was a guy outside who was looking at me. At least I saw him before I got out of my damp clothes.

21st floor, not something I could ever do

The view from the room in a retro over-processed postcard-style image of the Mighty Mississippi

After a quick change, and selecting a walk-around lens for the cam, I headed out.

Canal Street trolly goes by the front of the hotel.

As you're aware, the southern half of the US is embroiled in a protracted heat wave. The heat index reached 109° on Saturday, yet I felt I had to venture out and made a quick trip walking from our hotel on Canal Street down into the heart of the French Quarter on Royal Street and returning on Bourbon Street. I'm not normally a heavy sweater, but I was soon drenched. Luckily, there were an infinite number of choices to slake a thirst and restore the moisture lost—though I've heard that alcohol is not the best remedy for being overheated, an achingly cold beer simply hit the spot. About halfway through my first day foray, I ducked into the nearest jazz bar and imbibed.

It turned out to be the estimable Fritzel's Jazz Club, and though the doors were open to the street furnace beyond the threshold, the air-conditioners running full blast and perfectly chilled brew were perfect counterbalances to the inferno.

There was plenty to see (even when sticking to the shady side of the street). I thought I would try to take a macro approach to this trip, shooting photos of details rather than more expansive views that I've done before. There are plenty of opportunities to do just that—let the details infer the larger whole.

You see these eponymic things all over the French Quarter, leftovers from a different time perhaps...or maybe they were a retro installation. They're disappearing though, you see plenty of poles without the horse head or any other top. Originally there were two rings on either side where the bridle bit would be and larger hoops dangling from those for the reins to be looped through

LA grunge band ad

Brass wax residue

Bourbon Street

You too can appear to be a desperate bad boob job hooker going about your domestic duties...the top portion is indeed part of the apron. They probably sell very well to the tourists here in NOLA, which speaks volumes

Huge Ass Beers—To Go!

The micro shorts on the other side of the Mustang sports a "Who Dat?" message. I think an appropriate response might be "I dunno."

Commendably uninterested in Larry Flynt's wares

Sometimes it's good to just scare the bejeebers out of your kids—keeps them in line and guessing what might happen next.

Of course, I couldn't just concentrate on the profane and weird. There is beauty to be found as well.

And I couldn't just limit myself to macro-detail shots—I had to get some expansive big view shots as well.

The lovely Cornstalk Fence Hotel, originally a home built before 1812. The cornstalk fence was built in 1856, purportedly as a gift from the then owner to his wife to placate her move to NOLA from her beloved cornfields of Iowa

Detail on the fence

I'm sure that balcony provides some welcome shade, but might restrict the view a bit.

And of course, one needs to get a shot of the lovely Saint Louis Cathedral from Jackson Square.

That's it for now, I need to get ready for another evening soiree with the bride as her consort. I admit I spent the day inside the comfort of the suite with the AC blasting and putting together this post. I'll get out tomorrow again, stop by Cafe du Monde for another round of beignets and cafe au lait and do some last minute gift shopping before heading home. 

I use a personal trainer once a week, though I would never be good advertising for her services. She requires her clients, when they travel, to return with a magnet that she then displays in her gym. Woe to those that forget, because that next session will be especially tough. I wrote about her once on OS, an interesting story—My personal trainer gets flashed.

Thanks for stopping by. I hope you enjoyed coming along on this journey as well. Stay cool, and remember the truth found in Vonnegut, that when you come across something worth contemplating say to yourself, out loud, "If this isn't nice, I don't know what is."

all photos copyright © 2011 by barry b. doyle · all rights reserved

#  #  #