Monday, November 19, 2007

Black Cat's Path: Part 1

What a weekend.

I don't usually have a lot of time these days, because I work hard for the money and all, but this week is a week at school without the kids around, so I've been able to do something I really haven't been able to do recently: enjoy living in the City of New Orleans.

That's right, I spent most of this weekend falling in love with New Orleans again, remembering how much fun it is to live in a city like this, eating spectacular food and partaking of tasty beverages.

As of 3:23pm CST on Friday afternoon, the last busload of beautiful children was leaving the school where I work, and 15 teachers were standing around, screaming and high-fiving like we had just won the Super Bowl.

(This does not bode well for whatever is going to happen on the last day of school in June, but I digress...)

Out of Gentilly and into downtown we wandered, many of us making our way to Mimi's in the Mariny at the corner of Royal and Franklin. This has become our usual Friday night haunt, and this Friday was no exception. Frosty beverages all around, some talk of the week gone by and of plans for the week ahead. Or plans for the weekend, and every song included a variation of the same refrain: drinking. Down the street (and really, only like 150 feet down Royal Street) we went for what has got to be some of the tastiest restaurant served fried catfish in the world (thrice have I partaken of this meal, as I eat only fish on Fridays, but I cannot, for the life of me, remember the name of this place). But it had been a long week, and while it was not late, it was far, far past my bedtime. And I had an early game to watch tomorrow Uptown, so I was away.

Back to Octavia Street, where I sleep, and where the SWAT team had my block cordoned off in a hunt for an armed suspect. They were gone by the time I got back, however, which was good. And I mean that in the Merriam-Webster Dictionary definition of good kind of way. I got to get the tale from the neighbors in the street. The suspect was apprehended with superbly appropriate force, so the story goes. Because no night is complete in this town without a manhunt.

The next day, rising at the late hour of 6am (I slept in), I laid in bed for a while and hit the snooze button. This is one of life's great luxuries, and while obnoxious, can be catharsis for someone who usually cannot. I ran some errands, and ended up down at Carrolton Station. This is where the Georgia Alumni gather to watch the Bulldawgs play on the plasma screen televisions. Shockingly enough, not every bar in New Orleans is open 24 hours, and the door proclaimed that the Station would not be open until noon. Since the kickoff was at 11:30 CST, this was somewhat bothersome, but not too much, for the day was bright, the weather was a fine 75 degrees, and there is a coffee shop down the block.

Did I mention it was fine weather? What ends up being even better about this place is how nice the young ladies look in this kind of weather. Seriously. Beautiful day, about to watch football, coffee and chicory (caffeine on the black wings of death) in my cup cut proudly by deep spoonfuls of brown sugar, and wonderfully appointed specimens of New Orleans' fairer sex out for a morning stroll. It is a good thing I grew up on Island City and came of age in Athens, for less prepared men may have died just looking at the heavenly setting.

Oh, yeah, there's football back down the street. I guess, if the bar doesn't open till noon, I'll just go read the paper and wait.

The excellent owner of the fine establishment that is Carrolton Station saw me walking by in Georgia Red and bade me enter. He hadn't really opened the place yet, but the television was on, the kickoff was poised, and the roar of the Sanford Stadium crowd could be heard rumbling the long held "Goooooooooooooooo......"

"...Dawgs." I watched the kickoff and the migthy return.

Do days get any better than this?

4 comments:

Leigh C. said...

Well, all RIGHT, dude! Glad you're livin' the life once again, no matter how briefly. Working like a dog and then having that time once again only makes ya appreciate it more.

Happy Turkey!

sophmom said...

Yeah. I was watching that Uptown crime spree fearfully. Michael even chose not to bike to work that night but to get a ride there and take a cab home. I'm glad they were caught but the catching was perilously close to home.

It does sounds like a nice weekend. Are you going to Island City for Thanksgiving?

Cousin Pat from Georgia said...

Perilously close to home don't even begin to describe it. They apprehended one armed suspect 150 feet from where I park. But like I said, superbly appropriate force.

I will actually be rolling up to Athens for the after Thanksgiving festivities (we, inexplicably, do traditional Turkey Day fare in NOLA and then Turducken in the Classic City). Island City will see my face for the first time in 6 months come December.

If I make it to the ATL in time, I'll holla atcha on the phone.

sophmom said...

Yeah. He must be a couple of blocks toward Claiborne from you.

You here huh? Cool. I'm in a state of extended relaxation (I've fallen and I can't get up?). The Youngest is headed down to the game right now. Unfortunately (or not) he's wearing (what you would call) the *wrong* colors. :/

Take care, darlin'.