New Orleans
2003-07-07 12:19 a.m.

What a whirligig week (or more) we've had!

A few days after my last entry, the Samurai and I loaded up the Space Van and headed for the Big Easy. Neither of us had ever been to New Orleans before, but we were called to a dojo brother's wedding, and off we went.

I carefully researched lodging options online, and followed the Samurai's suggestion of rejecting the boxy habitrail offered by Best Western for a B&B in the Garden District. It's the off season, so the price was right, and our chosen B&B was a big, romantic-looking stone house, near Anne Rice's home, a block from St. Charles Ave. and the streetcar line, and haunted, to boot.

We arrived shortly after the daily thunderstorm, marveling at live oaks festooned with Mardi Gras beads and resurrection ferns. Our B&B was big and Victorian, and under extensive, noisy repair. We found it to have a lot of, um, character. Y'know, the kind of character that falls in chunks from the ceiling. It was quaint, though, in a frat house kind of way, and our suite (Miss Blanche's Streetcar Suite) was reasonably clean and spacious. We went out to explore a bit--Lafayette Cemetery, where Rice's fictional Mayfair clan buries its dead, was a few picturesque blocks away. After a quick clean-up, we went to the rehearsal dinner, me in my tailored (not trailer) dress, a blue two-piece number procured at Dillard's.

Dinner involved sitting with the groom's high school buddies and meeting lots of VERY friendly New Orleanians. Cool accent down there, almost like Brooklyn. Lovely char-broiled oysters. Many young women dressed in trailer dresses. They all could have done a brisk business on the street, dressed just as they were. My cleavage was the only one under cover.

We spent our night back at the B&B undisturbed by ghosts, but troubled by the unfortunate side effects of an impending Educait migraine. I'm told New Orleans affects lots of folks this way. It has its own special atmospheric fun going on.

It rained all the next day, but we met cousin Ben, our sweet Family Wild Man, for lunch (sushi!) and investigated a cool comic shop, then rode the steetcar down to the French Quarter. Wandered up Bourbon St. (can't believe some of that stuff is legal) then down Royal (antique shops-like a museum-gorgeous ivory netsuke) and back to the B&B. Met Ben for dinner (tiny farm-raised quail and seafood rouille), an extended ramble around the Quarter and Jackson Square, and beignets and cafe au lait at Cafe du Monde. Such waiters! I've never seen such swift, efficient, friendly service.

Next day, we took in the Audubon Zoo, where the Samurai befriended a little Cajun lad while the locals spoke freely and easily to us, and then devoured muffulettas before heading to the wedding.

Took our seats on the groom's side, me in my red not-trailer dress this time, and watched the groom's grandma get seated...wearing the same dress I'd worn to the rehearsal dinner. That's right; I avoided trailer, and got grandma.

The wedding was conducted by a precious Irish priest ("you must all luuuuve one anov ver, as the Fav ver luuuves you") who actually said the word SEXUAL about seven times during the ceremony! All the Protestants on the groom's side flinched each time. We looked like we were having seizures.

The reception, held at a country club, was positively epic. I've never seen so many dancin' grannies in my life. They were still rolling when we left at midnight. (Great band, too! Even the bar bands down there were terrific.)

Bleary-eyed breakfast with Ben at the Camellia Grill the next day (a marvel of old-time efficiency) and we were off across Lake Pontchartrain, racing Tropical Storm Bill to Florida.

Never did see (or hear) any ghosts!

Next: Aunt Cait and Uncle Samurai entertain children...indoors.

Read this: Seabiscuit by Laura Hillenbrand. Yes, it's the biography of a horse, but it's also a fascinating study of bygone America and a ripping good narrative. The movie comes out on July 25th; you gotta go see the Biscuit!

On the Headbone Radio: Mexican Radio, Wall of Voodoo ("I wish I was in Tiajuana /eating bar-b-cued i-gua-na....")

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