Vacation of the Century

Photo Op #1 - Strike a Pose

Hey, fellas, stand in front of this window.

Y'all don't look too happy.

Come on, you can at least smile.

Better but let's see some life.

Come on. You can do it..

Strike a pose.

That's what I'm saying.

Now we're talking.

Whatever you call it, it's AMAZING. When I stepped foot into the French Quarter for the first time as an adult 10 years ago, I felt the history of this place wash over me like the ripples radiating from a stone dropped in a quiet lake. As I walked the slate sidewalks, I thought of how many thousands, hundreds of thousands, maybe millions of feet had walked in this same space, perhaps on these same tiles. Blew my mind.

After eating that fabulous food at Pierre Maspero's, we struck out through the Quarter. This place assaults the senses. The sound of the wedding parade marching down the streets outside the restaurant. The colorful scenes everywhere you look. People from absolutely EVERY socioeconomic level in this country. Narrow streets where cars fight with horse-drawn carriages and pedestrians to make headway. Those poor UPS and FedEx drivers haven't got a chance. I won't even mention the smells because, other than an occasional olfactory glimpse of food, the fragrances wafting their way through these streets aren't anywhere near delightful. But that doesn't seem to diminish the attraction of this unique place.

Pierre Maspero's - Cuisine Extraordinaire (that's French)

Our first stop in the Quarter was Pierre Maspero's at the insistence of Anna and Amber. They were spot on with this suggestion. The pic to the left was just the beginning of a food orgy that left us very happy. BBQ shrimp (pictured), crab cakes, jambalaya, etouffee, fried shrimp, bread pudding and cheesecake.. I think I may have even left something out. I've never seen such plump shrimp in all my years of eating shrimp in Houston. The bread pudding was almost a spiritual experience. Nuf said.

Lunch with the Blues Brothers.

One straw wasn't enough for Alicia.

Swamp Man

The closest Armando had ever come to a swamp was some reality show about the folks that live there. So, we pulled over on the shoulder of I-10 in Louisiana and he ventured into a swamp.

This is him fighting off the insects that quickly found this human intruder in their domain. He got his fill of that pretty fast.

The Mighty Mississippi

The furthest east Armando has ever been is the Louisiana State Highway 44 cut off for Kinder, Louisiana, to go gamble at the Coushatta Casino. I was excited for him to get to cross the Mississippi River for the first time. This American icon brings to mind so much that is Americana for me. The romantic figure of the paddle wheel steamships ferrying riverboat gamblers and the fine-dressed women that would naturally follow such worldly types. The images conjured up by Mark Twain. The Mississippi River that wound past antebellum homes appreciated for their charming grandeur before we developed a national conscience about the sad state of affairs that allowed them to thrive.

Oops, before I get off into a swamp of political controversy, I'd better get back to the task at hand, describing this wonderful vacation. As I was saying, there's just something about the energy of this magnificent, moving body of water that moves me, as well. Watching that huge river make its way towards the Gulf of Mexico, taking the northernmost parts of this country and depositing them further south, one grain of sediment at a time, is mind boggling to me. So, it's a great day for any American when they first cross this great waterway that pours from the very heart of this land.

When Armando crossed it the first time, we were fighting traffic in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, midday on Saturday of Father's Day weekend. Traffic was a bear and there was nowhere we could stop to record this momentous occasion for posterity. So, after I snapped the first pic above, I literally threw the camera to Armando and began shouting instructions for taking selfies on an iPhone (he's an Android guy). "Click up here to reverse the lens! Click down here to take the shot! Get the river in the shot!! Don't quit clicking the button!!! Hold it up higher!!!!! Higher!!!!!!" By the time I had whipped him into a selfie frenzy, my iPhone camera sounded like a string of firecrackers on New Years Eve. We had two dozen pics without a single clear shot of the actual river. Of course, that was the fault of the back light and not the fault of the picture taker or picture-taking director. You'll have to take my word for it that below the railing shown in this pic, indeed, flows the Mighty Mississippi.

One More Pic and We're Off

While Dad finishes loading the car, Alicia and I take one pic for the road. We're about to set off in two cars: Alicia, her dad, and I in one and Anna (daughter #2), her son, and Amber (daughter #3)* in the other. I will be traveling the furthest I've been from home in TOO long. I am very excited and ready to get going.

*Numbers refer to birth order as I love all my children the same. ;)

There's That Moon Again

There's that full moon again keeping an eye on us as we get packed up for my first vacation of this century. I remember another vacation in another time in what seems like another world. Well, at my age, the teenage years are another world, verdad?

Yep, I was in junior high school and I had been "going" with this cute, guitar-playing folk singer for a couple of weeks. He was fine (our word for hot) with his 12-string guitar, Madras plaid shirts, singing Michael, Row the Boat Ashore. I suppose I suspected the tenuous nature of our relationship as I faced a couple of weeks out of the summer church activities that gave rise to our budding romance.

To calm my fears, I asked my best friend to keep an eye on him. Oh, that Jezebel kept an eye on him alright. When I returned to town to get a report on how things went, I was shocked that she felt really bad that she had to tell me that they were now going together. I never made that mistake again.