POTR #13 Nawlins

Peace On The Road
Nawlans
April 14, 2005

From some of the feedback I have gotten some of you must think we have lost our minds to buy a farm. This actually goes back many years ago. In 2000 or perhaps even before, we were on vacation in Kansas somewhere. I think we were going to a tractor show in Bird City, Kansas. There was a postcard in a shop that showed an old house that was totally falling down. The roof was mostly gone, doors falling off, all the windows gone, weeds and brush growing rampant. The caption said, “ONE MORE PAYMENT AND ITS OURS.” In Texas we saw the equivalent house. Erma quipped, “One more payment and its ours.” I stated that it would be perfect if there were some old farm equipment with it. A few miles down the road was the tractor and planter set at the end of a farmer’s lane. I took some pictures. Shortly Helen said I needed some weird animals on the farm. It was not ten minutes before were in Aransas Wildlife Preserve and the Javelinas were there to be photographed. So it was almost as if it was predestined to fall together and be written. Hope you enjoyed the reading as much as I enjoyed the writing.

BEADS IN THE STREET AT THE ST. PATRICK’S DAY PARADE

Last Sunday we went to New Orleans to attend church with old bible college friends. After church we went to a restaurant with our friends and a few other church members. These other people from the church said that we needed to be sure to see a St. Patrick’s Day Parade. The parades are different in the fact that the people on the floats throw the vegetables that are needed to make an Irish stew, in addition to beads. It was stated that the cost to ride on a float could run anywhere from $400 to $1500 plus the cost of whatever beads or vegetables are thrown per person. It was also said that people save money up for years ahead of time to pay the cost. One woman said that when she rode on a float the beads she threw had been collected from other parades and beads that were collected by herself and her neighbors from years past.

THOWRING CABBAGE, POTATOES, CARROTS AND BEADS FROM A FLOAT

We were heading out of New Orleans towards Abita Springs around the east end of Lake Pontchartrain. We figured that we about an hour from Abita Springs. We were on a highway, which was a four-lane road with a wide divider between the eastbound and westbound lanes. We came upon an area where people were parked along all sides of the street and lots of people in chairs in the median. There were lots of beads, carrots, onions, potatoes, oranges, bananas and just general trash on the street. We also saw people with large bags of vegetables that they had collected and were taking to their vehicles. The further we went the more stuff there was on the street and the more people there were that were just sitting around. While it was obvious that a St. Patrick’s Day parade had just passed through it seemed very strange that the people were still sitting around. When any parade I have ever seen was past the watching people left also. We figured out later that the parade went along the eastbound side and turned around and then went back on the westbound side. In a half-mile or so we caught up with the back of the parade and we were sort of in the parade. As we got closer to the parade the number of beads lying in the street increased dramatically. We could not get off the street. There were cars blocking every driveway and street. There were streets that had three layers of cars blocking the street. Being stuck we just followed the parade and watched it going back on the other side of the median. It was really rather neat for a while.

I say for a while it was neat. I started hearing a metallic squeak like squeaking brakes. I thought the car next to me was making the noise. Every time I heard the noise it was moving and with the Jeep so new I knew that it was not making the noise. After a bit Erma said that we seemed to be making the noise and that it was getting worse. In a block or so the street changed to a one lane and I was by myself in line. The squeal had become a SCREAM every time I moved, but I still could not get off the street. By this people stopped watching the parade and started watching us. We heard shouts of, “Get a brake job!, Your brakes need replacing!, Check your brakes!,” and other comments about the noise we were making. I got out and looked to see if I could see any thing wrong and of course I could not. Finally at an intersection there was a truck that was trying to get out of the parade route. After fifteen minutes at least he got a hole through the cars blocking the street and was able to leave the parade route. I followed him. I found a place to pull off to the side of the street and looked under the Jeep. With Erma moving the Jeep forward and backward all I could determine was that the noise was coming from the right front wheel. I drove another block into a closed business and took the wheel off. Wrapped up in the brake rotor and the rotor dust cover was a strand of green Mardi Gras beads. Those things are a lot harder than you would expect. I pulled them out and the brakes became quiet. Unfortunately we still needed to get to the other side of the highway to connect to the highway going north. We had a difficult finding a way around the parade. Without the navigation system on the Jeep I think we might have been stuck until after dark. There were so many streets that did not go anywhere except into the parade that is was tough finding a clear route. Finally about the time we got past the parade route the people were leaving in their cars and it was like traffic after a major football game lets out. It took us almost three and a half hours to get home.

Bourbon Street in the French Quarter in New Orleans is quite a place. First of all it is a very narrow street with spots that are just big enough to drive comfortablely through when there are any delivery trucks along the side. There are restaurants and bars and shops of many descriptions on both sides of the street. At any place there may be buskers performing their acts. There is so much talent that is spread through this area that it is impossible to imagine. There are people wandering across the street without looking for traffic or walking down the middle of the street like it was a pedestrian walkway. This is only a normal day. I can only imagine what it was like during Madi Gras. My guess is that the streets were simply closed to non-pedestrian traffic. There would not have been room to walk. Most of the buildings have at least one wrought iron balcony, and many have as many as four balconies. A lot of the balconies run the complete length of the building, and most of them are loaded with potted plants. There were strands of beads hanging from nearly all the balconies and lampposts and absolutely any trees that there were. I have never seen so many beads in my life. We were in New Orleans several times and every time we went to the French Quarter, drove along Bourbon Street and enjoyed the views. There were so many musicians playing in the streets that it was hard to listen to any individual player. In addition to the players on the outside of the restaurants there were bands in nearly every one of them on the inside. Of course the music on the outside was only a teaser to the talent that was to be found inside. Most of the music was some type of jazz, but there was some more contemporary types being played also. The shops on the street also sell just about anything that you can imagine. There are many shops that sell the beads that are hanging everywhere. They don’t have to have a supplier, during the off hours they can just go out and harvest the trees, balconies and light poles.

TYPICAL BALCONY OF BOURBON STREET

In this part of Louisiana very long bridges are very common. The causeway that goes across Lake Pontchartrain is 24 miles long. We crossed a swamp that had a bridge that was over 18 miles long. The transition from Interstate 55 to Interstate 10 on the west side of Lake Pontchartrain is on a bridge for perhaps 15 miles on each side. As we were driving along Interstate 55 we saw a lot of homes that did not have any road to them. They were totally surrounded by swamp and the only access was by water. I am sure that for everyone we saw there are a thousand that we did not see. As much as I have driven cars in my lifetime it is hard to imagine living without one. I wonder if there is the equivalent of a school bus that travels the water.

We are in Abita Springs, Louisiana, at least until the 23rd. This is the land of many flowering shrubs, trees, and plants. The azaleas are in full bloom along with many flowers that none of us have any name for. There are many trees that are covered with long “Old Mans Beard” or Spanish moss. It is interesting that some trees are totally covered with moss and others do not seem to have any moss at all. We have even seen growths of Spanish moss hanging from power lines and they seem to be doing just fine. . I would think that it would not be good to allow plants to grow in the wall, but down here it is common. Many walls had ferns and other kinds of plants growing out of cracks or any opening in the wall. Down in the French Quarter especially we have seen plants growing from cracks in the walls of buildings. while I know that plants grow anywhere they can get started and have enough moisture to sustain life. Somehow a crack in a wall thirty foot up the side of a building does not seem like a place that would support life. However the buildings in this area can prove that plants grow where they want to grow.

SPANISH MOSS COVERED TREE

FERNS AND PLANTS GROWING FROM A WALL

When in New Orleans we visited an above ground cemetery. They have been called Cities Of the Dead because they look like small cities. I have heard that places that have a high water table, like I am sure New Orleans has, often bury the deceased above ground. One time from the elevated in New York City we saw a similar cemetery. Most of the tombs have a door on the front with the vital statistics of the persons interred within. A caretaker told me that all the tombs have two crypts and a basement behind the door. A deceased is placed in one of the crypts and left for a minimum of a year and one day. At that time or when the crypt is needed for someone else the bones are put into a body bag, labeled with the vital information, and placed in the basement along with any that preceded them. While it was not stated I am sure that before the discovery of plastic the body bag was not made of durable material and therefore are no longer discreet from each other. In counting the names on the front doors I saw many that had five or six people within. One had twenty-seven names on the door. The oldest I saw had been born in 17??. The inscription was not legible for the last two digits. It was evident that some people had a sense of humor about the eventual end of us all. On the door of one tomb was the inscriptions concerning the parents of a gentleman, at least two of his brothers, his wife, and “LASTLY MYSELF.” Personally I cannot help but have a special feeling for people that see the humor in their own death. My own mother cracked a joke about joining my father when she died. Since it was between the funeral service and the interment of my father I was startled for a couple of seconds. When her comment sunk in after a moment I was actually rather proud of her.

CITY OF THE DEAD AN ABOVE GROUND CEMETARY IN NEW ORLEANS

One thing I would ask any of you that receive this to do. I made a royal goof in all of these I have sent out so far. I did not include the e-mail address of a person I had promised to include. If you know of anyone that I have missed please tell me. Or give them my e-mail address and have them write me and say, “PUT ME ON YOUR LIST.” I am sending this to thirty some people and I can send to thirty more just as easily.

We will leave Abita Springs, Louisiana tomorrow, March 23, 2005. We do not know where we are going exactly. I think we will at least get to Mississippi on our way to Florida. In three weeks I need to be in Ft. Lauderdale to meet a friend for breakfast. I wish you could see the funny looks I get when I say that to the people that ask, “Where are you going next.”

One last bit of information. While we were here in Abita Springs the microwave/convection oven got fixed. It is so nice to be able to cook something somewhere besides on top the stove. Now if it will just keep working I will be satisfied.

Till Later This Is Doug Of
PEACE ON THE ROAD