Learning what it means to miss New Orleans

I'm home. That's Maryland for any non-family or friend who happens to have stumbled across this blog. (Welcome, by the way, and please comment if you promise to play nice.) Maryland, I must say, is not New Orleans. Compounding this great misfortune is the fact that I'm finally getting all the only child moments I want, and have remembered why I always wanted siblings. Be careful what you wish for, no? And so, now that I must make my own dinners and cookies and pancakes, lets just say I've cut back on the carbs. There's no one to run down the hall and see, and as much as I love my mom I don't think she'd understand if I burst in her room after 10... Actually, I don't know how she'd feel about bursting... We're a peaceful household.

But luckily, I can see my Dukies (by definition) back at Duke. So I'm gchatting them, and saving all my mourning for Crescent City: the lack of shrimp and oyster po' boys in my life, and the crawfish etouffee I should have eaten more of. I miss the live music, and regret every night I stayed in (even though sleep and budgeting and being prepared for work seemed like good ideas at the time). I miss the new friends I made there, and the street car passengers, and the random palm trees in the middle of downtown. I even miss the weather, though I'm quite happy without the mosquitoes. I miss how adorable the musicians village is, and although I can't wax poetic about the stench of Bourbon, I do like knowing that it's there in its inferiority to Frenchman. I miss Superior Grill and Trolley Stop Cafe and a dozen other restaurants, and snowballs and getting hit on every day. I miss Magazine Street, and kitschy souvenir shops, and sitting at Audubon Riverview on a Sunday afternoon, and walking for five minutes and having sweat trickle (I liked to pretend I was getting excercise). And second only to the indomitable and loving spirit of the people, I miss how much possibility there is down there, and how everything has the potential to make a difference. I'm thinking it could be just as meaningful as my Peace Corps aspirations, only much less likely to give the parental units anxiety disorders.

So... yea. I don't just want to go back, I need to. I've contemplated "Walking to New Orleans" (a la Fats, see below) but I'll wait until I can afford less taxing transportation.



Oh, and I'm looking for a job. Maybe I can get one like that guy on Twitter who got fired?

(Resume and references available upon request)

What exactly have I been doing around here?

I have the day off today. We've managed to complete our projects, and the ever-so-kind ladies at Tipitina's decided to reward us with a very light week. Thanks much!

Pause.

I just realized I've never really explained my job to the blog-reading public.
I have been working at the Tipitina's Foundation, who's purpose is to preserve Louisiana's musical cultures through various means- we donate instruments to school kids, have music business co-ops that help local musician's get their music out there (making CD's, copyright assistance, simply checking email, etc.), sponsor workshops for school age musician's with professionals, and have internships for local college and high school students. During Katrina, the French Quarter club served as a shelter for a few residents of the city, and after the uptown club served as a center for musicians, and Tip's subsidized gigs and other much needed assistance.
Basically, as a group they rock at life in multiple ways. They also let me wear jeans to work. And the famous Tipitina's Club itself is a very good time too. Goodness all around.



My main attempt to contribute has been to flesh out on of the co-founders ideas- a summer camp for ages 4-6. We put together the lesson plans, and found instruments for them to make and books to read and dances to do and watched children's videos online and listened to really cute music. Tipitina's Tykes will hopefully go off without a hitch next week (impossible since it involves 4 year olds, I know) and Sushma and I can feel good about it having something to show for ourselves. I also did some research on grants for musicians and learned a lot about professional musicianship that will potentially be useful in the future.
Yay for my internship! And my day off to appreciate it!

Unpause.

I had started this post with the idea of making a list of things I've learned in NO. But, perhaps that would be a bit much. So, I'll leave it here, and do the nostalgic update later... After all, there are still a few days to learn something. This city is full of surprises.

Oh, and here's a fun clip of some of great acts at Tipitina's Uptown. I heart Big Sam.

It is Sunday evening yet again, and I am trying to be deep and insightful, or at least funny. But, I've been a bit tapped out since my treatise on race, or as Ryan put it "why Tim's a dirty racist". These were not my words, but I find Ryan so ridiculous sometimes, I wanted to immortalize him (if being put in my blog counts as being immortalized. Ha! Doubtful.) Anyway, nothing is coming. I don't want to write about the melancholy that's coming about leaving, or the madness that was this weekend, which pretty much leaves out everything on my mind.

Well, for memories sake, and to make my readers think I lead a fabulous life, here's a summary of the weekend: 2 jazz clubs in one night, a video involving me, a fork, and my esteemed DukeEngage colleagues, a reggae club and a trip to "Nigeria" and a day of shopping (of the window variety) and fine dining (of the within the budget variety). Oh, and beignets, breakfast for dinner and a wee bit of drama were thrown in there too. I don't want to dissect any of these experiences in detail. At least not right here, right now.

Alas, since I've started this post I suppose I should give you something worth checking out. So, here's a video of the song that's been stuck in my head for the past week or so. It's not very upbeat, (actually it's a bit needy), but I like it anyhow.


I like her voice, and her style, and think she has real talent. Go Jazmine.

So... yea. That's all for now folks, because I'm tired. Next episode will be some variation of "what I learned in New Orleans." That is, if I have any follow through with my intentions...

"Let's just move here and work in a snowball shop..."

A friend and I were sitting around last night (or this morning, depending on how you look at it) discussing how time was flying by. I can't really say that this experience has gone by fast, because it feels like we've been here forever, but at the same time, it seems to suddenly be ending. So, we'd been having a day of premature nostalgia, over snowballs.

Pause for an explanation of the glory that is a snowball: imagine childhood, dipped in sunshine and sprinkled with deliciousness, and you've got an idea. More specifically though, they're something like a snowcone, but with smoother ice, and Ms. Norma, the owner of Queen of the Ball, will stuff hers with ice cream. She's ridiculous flavors, like wedding cake and Georgia peach, and the shop's decor only adds to the charm. I'm sad we never got around to trying one of these before today, but I'm sure my waistline thanks me. I'll have to go back and visit Ms. Norma again though.

Queen of the Ball Snowball Stand

I've digressed completely off topic. Originally I was going to write about how much I'm going to miss this place, and Candace and my plans to move here and skip the whole college degree thing. But, there are dozens of reasons that won't work, and premature nostalgia is a bit sappier than I'm into at the moment. So, for now, I'll just focus on finding another day to get a snowball...