back in October, I spent a week in New Orleans and each day I managed to write down what can roughly be called a ‘blog entry’ but was really just my head vomiting in the general direction of a text editor.. while it will mostly likely mean nothing to you, for me it’s a time-machine.
(you have to read it at 2x pace to get it…yeah.)
Sunday, 3, October, 2009: wake up before the alarm, time changed last night and the clock-gods have given me an extra hour to pack and hang out with BusterTheDog. Not sure I’ve ever spent a week away from him. That will be weird. Go over to my sister’s place and drop off Buster, he’s my best buddy. We drive to Ontario Intl Airport.
During the drive my sister and I talk about life and career choices. She listens differently than anyone else I know. Talking with her feels like talking to myself but only with objectivity, rationality and intelligence. Must remember to do this more often.
Get to the airport, ONT is barely awake with travellers. Stop at a place to grab a bite to eat. No booze, just food and water. Told the cute waitress I was a vegetarian and she brought me out a fruit platter suitable for someone with more resources than myself. I tip her 100% and wish that every airport-food-service-employee cared as much.
Board the plane.
Spend three hours at 30k feet while travelling to Dallas Fort Worth Intl. The flight has WiFI and I can do whatever the deuce I want. Have a video chat with stonebraker and talk about how we lived long enough to see the future. If flying 700 mph at 30,000 feet and having a video conversation isn’t the future then I don’t know what is. Land in DFW and attempt to navigate the maze of an airport. The place is too fuck big. Have to take a 10 minute shuttle ride to make my connector flight. Before I leave I stop by an airport bar that has been made up to look like an old time country saloon. Order two double whiskey’s. Pay $10 for WiFi. For the record, WiFi at 30k feet is free, but back on earth it costs ten bucks. Watch the locals cheer on their local NFL team as they beat up on my Seattle Seahawks. Fuckers.
Hop on board a smaller plane and spend an hour flying to New Orleans.
Arrive at 12:30am local time. The airport is barren. Follow the pack to luggage claim and board the shuttle to my hotel. Ride for 20mins through abject poverty. Church parking lots filled with homeless covered under sleeping bags, homes deserted with haunting Katrina-era spray paint on the doors. 3 found dead here, 2 here, none at another. We drive into downtown. I find out where the money is being spent. Downtown looks whole and is “open for business”, almost surely on the backs of the poorest of the poor. Unload my bag from the back of the shuttle, give the driver a five-dollar bill and a fist bump.
The hotel is beyond nice and I whisper a thank you to hotels.com for a sweet deal. Check in. Scrub hands under steamy hot water. Apply ethanol gel liberally. Repeat steamy scrub. Collapse in bed.
The sheets are some sort heavy silk and I feel like I’m sleeping under a lead-xray apron. By the end of the week I won’t even notice.
It’s now Monday morning and I’m alive in New Orleans, LA.
