The Lower Ninth

I wasn’t sure what I expected as we drove up and over the bridge that spanned the mighty Mississippi, into the lower ninth ward of New Orleans. To me, it seems like ages ago that Katrina flooded this city. I remember hearing about it for weeks afterwards on the news, and seeing the wake of destruction on the front page of newspapers and on evening news broadcasts. But then, just like everything else, it eventually becomes old news and gets filed away.

As we drove through the sparse and barren blocks where homes and community once thrived, I was engulfed in this strange feeling. The scene struck a chord with me, a dissonant one. I didn’t feel right pulling out my camera as we drove along, I couldn’t bare to think how I would feel if it was my house or my neighborhood, that was washed away and some tourists were driving along taking pictures of it (to make matters worse, we were sitting in the car eating a bag of beignets. Note to self: don’t attempt to eat powdered donuts in the car. Powdered sugar will always win).

The rebuilding projects are quite remarkable (yet seem to be very slow in progress). The homes are modern marvels of sleek design. Just last week I read an article about the houses that Frank Gehry built for the relief effort, and was pleased that we actually found it. We also saw the house that Mike Holmes built during his time down here.

It was a depressing site, but I’m glad we took the time to check it out. The drive back to our trailer was a quiet one, with Terry Reid’s Brave New Awakening playing softly – it was quite fitting.

Today we’re packing up, once again, and headed to Memphis. We’ve got a gig on Saturday afternoon, which I’m really looking forward to. New Orleans has been a bit of a dry city for us, with regards to gig opportunities.

We’ll see you further down the road,

-a.

p.s. If we had a tow-hitch on the back of the trailer, we would have definitely been bringing this little guy back with us.

New Orleans: A Love Story

All it took was half of a block, and I knew I was head over heels for this city. Enter Amy, holding a boom box over her head.

To tell the truth, I never really thought much about visiting New Orleans. Sure, the option always popped to mind whilst daydreaming about being anywhere other than my cubicle, but it was never a serious thing. However, while studying the road map that would eventually lead us back home, all the signs were pointing us to the Big Easy.

Yesterday we devoted the afternoon to exploring the French Quarter. It didn’t seem fair to try and cram everything that Nawlins has to offer into one day. Needless to say, this will be part one of a mini-series.

The bearded one on Bourbon Street. 

Drinking while strolling. Seriously, all cities should adopt this policy.

Fried cat-fish po-boy. It was gone in 3 minutes. Ya, I'm a lady.

 Who ate all my beignets?

Things I learned about the French Quarter:

1) Order more beignets than you think is reasonable. Trust me.

2) A can of Pabst is only $0.92 at the grocery store across from Café Du Monde (but on Bourbon St it’s $2.75).

3) Devour that fried-catfish po-boy like it’s your job (even if you’re gluten-intolerant gut tells you otherwise)

4) Look up, it’s amazing.

Due North

Last Saturday morning we said our goodbyes and packed up from our little plot in Mission and headed north, making the 7 hour drive to Houston. We've settled in (for a few days) just north of the city in an area called the Woodlands. 

The weather is noticeably cooler up here, and I find myself missing the heat (neither Brad nor Hank are complaining). We're only here for a few days and then we plan on heading east towards New Orleans.

Yesterday we played the tourist game and headed out to Old Town Spring for some meandering and such.

The sun was warm and we stuffed our faces with pulled pork nachos, beer and some deep-fried Reese cups. Brad was a satisfied man.

Last night we had the chance to play on one of the coolest stages I have ever seen – The Doesy Doe Music Cafe. 

Tonight we're heading downtown Houston in pursuit of some open mics. Hopefully lady luck will grace us with her presence a few more times.

Hey lady, you need some drugs?

Last week we took a day trip across the boarder into Progresso, Mexico. We parked the car on the US side and simply walked over the bridge. The town doesn't seem to cater to the '30-something' (much like the whole Rio Grande Valley for that matter), but it was still on our list of things to check out. 

The main street is lined with pharmacies, dentists, liquor stores and nail salons. Craft vendors with their carts cluttered the narrow sidewalks, selling everything from straw hats and souvenirs to baby goats and bicycles. Every couple of steps, men and women would pop out of doors holding up signs and shouting "Hey lady, you need any prescription drugs?", "Lady, you need to see dentist?", "Pedicure, Manicure, five dolla!". The key to Progresso's thriving economic stability is to offer cheap (generic) prescription drugs and affordable dentistry to Americans, and it seems to work. Each dentist office that we passed had a full waiting room, and generic Viagara was cheap and plentiful (if you're willing to take a gamble).

As we walked further down the main drag, we saw a small sign that advertised 'one dolla beers'. So down the ivy-lined alley we went and plopped ourselves on a rickety set of patio chairs, and a portly Mexican fellow hustled over with a few bottles of chilled Dos Equis. I was in heaven. The first beers went down easy, so we stayed for another round. Another man was making the rounds with a basket of fresh churros, which we hastily bought up. Fresh, warm churros and $1 beers, this was seriously my utopia.

After cocktail hour, we ducked into a fancy restaurant to grab some authentic Mexican-fare for lunch, and then headed back outside to try and track down the churro man again. Coming up empty-handed, we walked back over the bridge, and made our way home. And that, in a nutshell, was our trip to Mexico. Thrilling to say the least.

* The first 2 photos are evidence of what happens when a Winter Texan, who clearly has never used an iPhone, offers to take your photo - Brad and I crack up every time we look at it. Plus, the fellow in the back shares an uncanny resemblance to grandpa Munster, no?

It's a gripping life we lead

Another week has come and gone, and I’m still surprised at how fast they fly by. I was catching up on facebook yesterday and saw all your posts about the weather back home. Tons of snow and freezing temperatures, and down here, we were hunkered down inside Paul & Sue’s mobile with the air conditioning buzzing – yesterday was a warm one, 92°.

Last Friday night we had our gig at Jitterz Coffee Bar. Overall it was a successful night. Our neighbors and a few others from the park came out to support “the young Canadian kids”. We have been invited back again this Friday, so that’s where we’ll be – singing our Blue Rodeo cover tunes and cracking up the audience every time we say “eh”.

I wish I had more exciting news, but the truth of the matter is that I don’t, lol. We keep it pretty low key these days and have managed to fall into a fairly regular routine. Winnie usually has me up at 7:30am, and then I hit the computer to see if I’ve got any new work for the day (I’ve been lucky to have found a few freelance opportunities since we’ve been here). Brad usually rolls out of bed by 8:30am and starts breakfast – either oatmeal or gits. By 10:30-ish we lace up our sneakers and get a 5K run in (with Winnie in-tow), and we’re usually back at the trailer just at the heat really starts to set in. It’s at this time that some of the crucial decisions are made – sit by the pool with a beer or sit by the pool with a grapefruit fizz (my newest and most favorite-ist drink of choice – I feel a tutorial will be in the works soon).  The other possible option is to trek to the grocery store to stock up on supplies (ie. ice cream and/or beer). The afternoons move at a snails-pace due to the heat, and by 5:30-6pm we try and get dinner underway. Some nights we head out to listen to Paul’s band, other nights we stay in. It really is a gripping life.

The other afternoon, we decided to change things up and ventured to a local flea market. We gorged on fresh tacos and fried pie, scoped out some pretty sweet deals and managed to blend in with the visor-wearing, fanny-pack sporting Winter Texans.

This week we’re hoping to take a day-trip into Mexico and hopefully that will lead to an interesting story or two.

Hope you’re all keeping warm and well.

A+B