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.

What's the deal with flying?

I'm not talking about the delays or the upcharges or the overcrowding. Everyone hates that.

When I was a teenager I loved to fly. It was amazing. Get in a big metal tube and two to four hours later you were somewhere else. Along the way you got a view of another world up there. The clouds, the ground so far away. Crazy adventure. And then came cheap flights on discount airlines and it was even reasonably priced.

I can remember once flying somewhere and there were maybe 20 people on the flight. The flight attendants spent most of the trip in the back hanging out and talking to me about tattoos. I had about 10 rows to myself because everyone else crammed the front so they could get off quickly. But the flight was so empty that everyone got out quickly.

Now I dread it. Odds are good that I'll get motion sickness during takeoff and landing. Nothing like getting to your destination feeling ill. And with most flights having multiple connections anymore I'm likely to get multiple doses of nausea. Nice. I've tried eating and not eating before flying to try to deal. The only thing I've learned is that if I eat at least that way my stomach churn doesn't have heartburn too. But it does increase the feeling that I have something worth throwing up.

Beyond that I get sinus issues from all the pressure changes. Lucky me. I think I got it from my dad, he's got sinus problems. Something for me to look forward to as I age..

It's to the point now that just a whiff of that recycled airplane air leads to dread. I pray the little air jet will help. Part of me hopes that we deplane somewhere cold so the cool air is soothing for a little while. Last time I flew I went to Colorado which resulted in altitude sickness combined with the flight sickness. It took me a week to recover after I got back home.

Though if I being perfectly honest. The flight back from the job interview where I got my current teaching position was great. Maybe I was just to happy to notice anything else. Plus I had a really big seat right by the front door. So there is something to be said for getting out first.