I know what it means to leave New Orleans

Just got back from a conference in New Orleans.

It was a strange mix of work, fun, and self-analysis. I guess it is only fitting in a town with NO's reputation. When I first thought about writing it up, I thought about doing some sort of diary entry, spelling out the day and what occurred of note. That almost seems too traditional and mundane to cover it.

Some highlights though:

I caught up with a friend from high school days. How do you overcome two decades of time? Amazingly enough I like to think we might have succeeded. Time will tell on that but I also feel I put to bed some of my lingering issues from then. I also learned just how much goes on that one is oblivious to knowing. We think we know most of the picture. Some times we have the equivalent to a snap shot and a piece of twine. Clues that we think tell a story but turn out to be far short. I also had the best cup of coffee I've ever drank.

My life never stops being surprising or entertaining. I saw a horse cop ride half way in to a karaoke bar and dance on the back of his mount to a hip hop song (yes, I and several of my friends sang at the bar. No, I was not the person on stage at that moment). I got to witness part of the New Orleans Red Dress Run, an excuse to drink and for many participants to cross dress. Just now I remembered that I saw two tranny hookers. At 1:30 on a Saturday afternoon. I had someone explain to me and a friend in much more detail than was called for the details of his heart attack.

I had several of the nicest meals of my life. In case you were wondering, haute cuisine appears to be about reducing food down to its essence flavors. A feast for the senses. Very indulgent. I highly recommend it. But at the same time there is something analytical about it. The experience gets in the way of the nourishment. Comfort may not be a transcendent experience but it sticks to your ribs. Some times we feed our body. Some times we feed our soul. Haute cuisine falls somewhere between those two poles. I'm glad I got to do it.

Actual conversation (slightly paraphrased) that happened to me on the streets while I was taking a photo:
Strange woman who may or may not have been hitting on me: "Can you answer a question for me?"
Me as I realize she is not going to walk into my shot so I can take it: "I can try."
SWWMOMNHBHOM: "Why are guys such douchebags?"
Me: "Testosterone."
SWWMOMNHBHOM: "Really?"
Me: "Yes."
SWWMOMNHBHOM: "That's it?"
Me: "Yes."
SWWMOMNHBHOM: "How do you get them to stop being douche bags?"
Me: "Hurt them."
SWWMOMNHBHOM: "Wha?"
Me: "You've got to hurt them in such a way that makes them realize how much they are hurting other people."
SWWMOMNHBHOM: "Oh. That won't work. He's always going to be a douchebag.....Oh no. Oh no! OH NO! OH NO! Someone is calling me a douchebag!"
At that point she ran down the street to have a half shouted conversation with someone she had seen walking towards us. And of course she was drunk. It was after noon. But her title was long enough.

By the time I left I was nearly crushed by the longing to see Wife again. We had been apart for over a week due to overlapping trips. Suck ass to a painful degree.

I also must say thank you to B.S. for being there.

And to E. and N. for new experiences and hopefully new friendships. And for making me feel welcome with the cool kids. I have no idea if either of you will ever read this. But if you do, I'd just like to say: "Porn."

It seems the most appropriate way to summarize the trip.

The joys of pet ownership

Wife left for work while I was upstairs in the bathroom taking care of business, if you know what I mean. I could hear the sound of plastic rustling shortly thereafter. I knew one or both of the critters was up to now good. Possibly they were even working in cahoots.

I called Dog's name. Normally she drags herself upstairs just in case I'm calling her for a good reason. Today, nothing. I called again. Pause in the rustling. Then it continues.

I finish and head downstairs. Dog comes running up to me as if I have been away for years. Now this is not too far off from normal behavior but she was overselling it considering she didn't show up when called.

It is at that point that I notice the bag of candy on the floor. I walk up to it. Dog follows and tries to act surprised.

If she could talk I imagine it would sound something like this, "How did that get there? You should pick it up before someone figures out how to rip it open and get to the yummy, yummy goodness contained inside.... By the way, any thoughts on how someone without thumbs would rip it open? I'm just curious. Not for me of course, the cat was asking."

The bag was still intact though a little wet with slobber. Dog then changed tactics and acted like sleeping on the couch was all that she cared about in this world. Since no one was caught in the act, no punishment was given out at this time.

1104.57 miles from Chicago

Yesterday was amazing. We went to the beach finally in the late morning early afternoon. Not the tourist beach, the primarily locals beach. Had a huge strip of sand all to ourselves and the only other people in the water were a few kids splashing nearby. And swearing a decent amount. More than I remember swearing at that age anyway. Yes, I'm not afraid to write it. We frolicked. We let the sun dry us off. On the way back to town we saw pelicans. Plural.

Then in the evening we went to a Crab Shack and Marina for dinner. Got the two person seafood boil. If you've never had a boil, basically it means more food than you should safely eat but you are going to anyway. Crab, mussels, crawfish, shrimp, sausage, and more. Plus all the sweet tea you can drink. Next time is the fried but we'll need a few weeks to make room for it. Then we wandered over to the dock and saw a live wild alligator floating by the boats. It was small for an alligator but I'm betting it was still hoping some chubby kid slipped off the docks.

That's a long way to get to my point. And I have one, I think. If you've ever been on a longer vacation somewhere you have that day before you have to go back to wherever it is you came from. It's a fun day cause it is still vacation but there is a little desperation because you know it is almost over, this is the last of the fun. Well, we realized that day for us is never coming. No packing the car and heading out tomorrow. If I want to go to the beach, I can. And the day after and the day after that. Sure, school will start in a couple of weeks, but if I wanted I could hop in the ocean before or after if I so desire.

And right now you're probably hating me just a little bit.