Mermaids on Chartres St. in New Orleans

I am looking at a mermaid who is shuffling her rock down Chartres Street on a teetering skate board. She is struggling to navigate her cardboard painted rock. She has sewn silk flowers into her aqua wig.  It is taking her quite some time to move her rock.  Her abundant bosoms are listing as she hangs over her make believe rock adjusting it so that it remains upright on the skate board.

It looks like a scene from my favorite Broadway hit, "Peter and the Star Catcher."  There is one scene when all of the men are dressed as mermaids.  Their costumes are created out of the mind of little boys at play with homemade found items.

I wonder how long it will take the Chartres Street Mermaid to get to the river? And once at the river, will she plunge into the water? Or will she set up a booth, like so many others, and charge for a photo op?

"Peter and the Star Catcher," uses hand-made props and found items to create a fairy tale world on stage.  Much like children used to do before the internet.  I am not opposed to the net, it cast my words far and wide out into the world wide oceans, but I do miss make-believe.

This young woman who resides on Chartres Street must have another source of income. If she is making enough money as a mermaid, I need to rethink my career choices.

A Triubte to Wounded Veterans

This morning I would like to dedicate my thoughts to the United States Service Men and Women.
Yes, in capital letters.

This spoken word essay is a profound commentary on how many of our wounded warriors are treated.
Please listen to Madison's junior project. Madison Murrah, a junior at Ursuline High school in Dallas.



https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rpkKFNYfhVo

Royalty on Chartres Street in New Orleans

Meeting King Charles on Chartres Street in New Orleans last week makes me wonder how one can proclaim herself royalty.

"I am King Charles, and this is my body guard." The no-name body guard was drinking a cocktail. He held out his left hand to me.  His right hand has held several cocktails just this morning, I thought. His eyes had that all night on-the-town look.

King Charles extended a hand, cuffed in a linen tuxedo shirt, which was  fastened at the neck with a broach.  The right hand adorned with rings met mine with a gentle finger shake. He wore a paper hat colored black and gold with a black feather cocked to the right.  A half-raised smile followed the fingertips. Next came an out pouring of indignation about the shop owner next door who had "disrespected his creations."

He wanted to dress me and have me promote his hats and style. What an interesting offer. How does one delicately reject such a majestic command?

The phone rang, and I hastened to answer it. I pretended that the robo call was very important and shook my head and motioned to the King that I had to take the important call. He nodded an agreement and sauntered out of the door.

When I was a teenager there was a lady who walked through the Quarter accompanied by a duck. We all called her Ruthie, "the Duck Lady."  I add King Charles to the list of many other nobles who have walked these streets.

When we lived in Virginia post-Katrina, I walked the streets of Old Town Alexandria and imagined that George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, and Ben Franklin had left some creative energy there. In New Orleans, our street royalty is not elected, selected, nor born into position, but wake one morning and decide to become nobility.

We have had the self-proclaimed King of the Universe, Ernie K-Doe, and others who live and die here. Many large men have identified themselves as Drag Queens. We do have Kings and Queens, maids, and dukes for carnival. So perhaps we have more royalty than any other country on earth!

Please join us, and proclaim your noble heritage on the streets. Create your own attire, make a crown, and parade yourself down Chartres Street.

What we leave behind for the after-party of life.

What we leave behind; what does it say? Mickey Easterling's estate sale spoke volumes.( See my earlier posting for more on her After-Life Party. May 24th)

Rummaging through a deceased socialite's belongings causes me to pause and think what does all of this collecting get a person?

There were at least 300 decks of unopened playing cards! How many bridge parties does it take to use that many decks?

One table contained glasses.  I did not count, but there were easily 500 stems of various sizes; all designed to hold anything, but water.  I picked up six champagne flutes, and ten linen cocktail napkins. Four of the napkins are embroidered with captions: Enigmatic. Whimsical; Provocative, and Lucid.  Four others had embroidered top hats with dancers, and martini glasses.

One of the many shoppers was turning the pages of a journal like book with hand written notes about parties and gifts. I was so hoping that she would not purchase the book.  She put it down, and I was poised to swoop it up, when her mother took it.

"I am a writer, and I would so love to have that." I piped up.

"Oh, do you?" I expected to have to barter with her, but she asked, "are you a local writer?"

"Yes!" I proclaimed.

She handed over the book, and said,"You can do more with this than I can."

"Yeah." I all but jumped across the table that was between us.

Reading through the book of party invitations, menus, and a list of Christmas gifts from 1976,
left me pondering the scope of Mickey's reach.  The list included: Governor and Mrs. Edwards, Mayor Vic Schrio, District Attorney Harry Connick, and the Pontchatrain Beach owner, Harry Batt! All of these public officials and personalities, received orange gift baskets.

Mrs. Easterling had saved the thank you notes that she received.

So much of life remains between the pages of a well kept book of parties, gifts and appreciation.

Earth from 30,000 feet

Flying over our country gives one a new view, or as Proust says, "Seeing with new eyes."  I am a big fan of the Big Bang Theory.  When Howard gets to see the world from the International Space Station, I see my view from the window of an American Airline plane.

View from American Airline Flight

The blanket and the patch work at 30,000 feet

Man’s attempt to connect and conquer.

Squares viewed from above;

Little altars of love.

Yielding harvest to nurture:

Corn for fuel, grain for bread,

We eat, yet do not feel full.

Cramming down loafs, where a slice is sufficient.

Fearing that others will have our portion;

Afraid to share and to breathe,

As we inhale, the fears and hunger passes;

And we rise.

Above the clouds to view the abundance.

Vast and bountiful Mother sits.

Able and willing to share with all:

She beckons with outstretched arms,

“Welcome, my darlings…Come.. Enjoy…”