No place like home...

Back in New Jersey, the number one thing people like to complain about is New Jersey. Too crowded, too expensive, too corrupt, too hectic. If you interrupt their tirade about how Jersey sucks to ask them why don't they move they respond "What?? Leave Jersey?" Residents there have a dysfunctional relation ship with their abusive state spouse. Don't let another state make a joke about it, no matter how true it may be.

When I first moved down here a year ago, I was pretty much jobless, penniless and homeless. Still I felt more at home, more at ease and happier in New Orleans than if I had been given a mansion back in the Garden State.  I have yet to hear a resident here bad mouth the Bid Easy, instead you hear everyone rave about their love of the city like newlywed on a honeymoon.

A new Facebook friend who is serving in the military overseas has been sharing his love story with New Orleans with me. He sent me this Mark Twain quote:
It has been said that a Scotchman has not seen the world until he has seen Edinburgh; and I think that I may say that an American has not seen the United States until he has seen Mardi-Gras in New Orleans.
- Letter to Pamela Moffett, 9 and 11 March 1859 

Well I hope I don't make him too homesick, but I'll send him a little Dr. John in return. Stay safe Franklin, I'll treat you to a beer when you get back home.

The view from work

 Pontalba building

I spent the past week or so working on an apartment in this very historic building. From the balcony I was literally a stone's throw from the Cabildo building where they signed the Louisiana purchase. During my smoke breaks I could walk out on the balcony and listen to the musicians as tourists milled about below me.

Beats driving a cab in Jersey.

 The Pontalba Buildings form two sides of Jackson Square in the French Quarter.

These are matching red-brick block long 4‑story buildings built in the 1840s by the Baroness Micaela Almonester Pontalba. The ground floors house shops and restaurants; the upper floors are apartments that are the oldest continuously rented such apartments in the United States.

In the short story Hidden Gardens, Truman Capote describes the Pontalba Buildings as "...the oldest, in some ways most somberly elegant, apartment houses in America, the Pontalba Buildings."

They were declared a National Historic Landmark in 1974

The Upper and Lower Pontalba Buildings, which line the St. Ann and St. Peter Street sides of Jackson Square, were built in 1850 by the Baroness Micaela Almonester de Pontalba, the daughter of Don Andres Almonester y Roxas, the Spanish colonial landowner associated with the neighboring Cabildo, Cathedral and Presbytere. Inspired by the imposing Parisian architecture the Baroness favored, the distinctive rowhouses were intended to serve as both elegant residences and fine retail establishments. In 1921 the Pontalba family sold the Lower Pontalba Building to philanthropist William Ratcliff Irby who subsequently, in 1927, bequeathed it to the State Museum.

We finished up the apartment. Yesterday early start, long lunch then worked until 4 am. I slept for a couple of hours on a pile of drop cloths on the balcony over looking Jackson square. 

A lone saxophonist down by the river sung me to sleep in the moon light. Homeless guys fighting over the last swig woke me up.

Bourbon Street Parade

A year ago I rolled into this town in a 95 Ford Escort with less than $75 in my pocket, no job lined up and only Waffle’s floor to crash on. At least I was out of New Jersey. I never felt at home in Jersey, regardless of what town I lived in. The first morning that I woke up in New Orleans and strolled down Magazine Street in search of coffee and smokes it felt right. I can’t explain it other than it felt like I was home. There has been a lot of rough times in the past year, but never once did I ever consider returning to Jersey. A few times I did consider cashing in my chips off of the Crescent City Bridge.

New Orleans talked me out of it. The reputation of this city through out the world is one of indulgence and debauchery, a decadent drunken harlot catering to carnal pleasure. Babylon on the Mississippi. Like the proverbial hooker with a heart of gold she welcomes the creative, the outcast and those who feel at home nowhere else. That has been her turbulent history. The flags of Spain, England, France, America and the Confederacy have flown over her, yet she is still individual and defiant.

Cajun refugees from Canada made their way down the river to find a new home here. Slaves from Africa were forced to make New Orleans their new home and Pirates had their mail forwarded here. Vietnamese refugees have come here as boat people only to become some of the finest fisherman in the world. Where else could Pirates become heroes and descendants of slaves become celebrities. A city whose not known for making steel or autos, not seen as a center of financial power or commerce. Instead is associated world wide for music, food, writing, art and individualism. Perhaps this is why I immediately felt at home here.

Today, a year later I am working as a house painter and optimistic. I took a break from painting French doors in a former slave’s quarter on Esplanade turned into a condo. I walked up Bourbon Street to a strip club to collect money for artwork I did. There is a change in my life, walking out of a strip club with more money than I walked in with. On the way to the club I stopped and jotted down a phone number to an affordable apartment on Bourbon for rent.

Kicking back down Bourbon Street I glanced into a window of Skully’s record shop. Posted in the window was a poster for “Bourbon Street and Beyond, illustrated by Eric T Styles” On the counter sat several copies of the book I worked on for the past few months. With a stupid grin on my face walking back to Esplanade I spoke to myself “A year ago I rolled into this town in a 95 Ford Escort with less than $75 in my pocket, no job lined up and only Waffle’s floor to crash on…”

Vince Vance

Down in New Orleans

They got music
It's always playin'
Start in the day time,
go all through the night

When you hear that music playin'
Hear what I'm saying,
it make you feel alright

Dr John

A Classic

I dunno why this tune was going through my head today. Enjoy.

16 Parkside Lane

Twenty plus years ago I fell in love with this song the first time I heard it. Many years later I found myself driving cab at night. Despite dealing with people all night long, it's an extremely lonely job.

NOTE: In this song the writer sings about "taking tips and getting stoned" The smoking of the cannabis while on duty would not only be a criminal act but reckless and irresponsible and is not endorsed by this blog. Thank you.  ;)

A Thanksgiving dinner that couldn't be beat...

For some people Thanksgiving wouldn't be Thanksgiving without binge eating on turkey, parades, football games or family dramas.  Well, the only tradition some of us hold dear is Arlo. 

For all of the players out there

Here is some graphic work that I just finished. My very good friend John Tuttle back in New Jersey sent me a simple graphic of a player piano and asked if I could animate it for him. John is the man when it comes to player pianos. It's been a passion of his for decades. PLAYER-CARE.com is the leading on line source for anything dealing with these delicate old instruments. Player Care is the on line epicenter for components, information, scrolls and materials. 

original graphic

Decades ago he was scoffed at by some when he decided that he would make repairing player pianos his  profession. John is one of the brightest men I have ever met, and if I learn nothing else from him it's to believe in myself and follow my heart. He has time and time again been there for me and is always in my corner. Countless accounts from his life that will make a great novel someday. It was a pleasure to do this animated GIF (below) for his web site.

Even if you don't own a player piano, check out his web site PLAYER-CARE.com to learn more about the rare and classic form of entertainment.

Green Lantern

BS

I still don't like his politics.

I'll sit this one out...

Halloween is a big deal down here. Everything is as long as they can dress up and drink heavily to it. Look how fun New Orleans can make a funeral.  The city is recent years with the help of Blaine Kern's float den has been promoting NOLA for the pagan ritual. The infrastructure is here, the coolest cemeteries, the most haunted houses, vampires, voodoo rituals and bars.

I always dug Halloween driving cab.  It broke up the monotony, naughty little girls in Catholic school girl uniforms flashing you at 2 am because they need a cab. Tonight I was invited to hang with Waffle. Remember Waffle? He's the one who talked me into moving to New Orleans. I'm feeling under the weather lately. As much as I would love to enjoy the city wide freak out between Halloween and the Steelers being in town, I am not up for it.




I'm old, I need to pace myself in this town, or I won't make it to see my first Mardi Gras.

Don't you want to be in that number.....

A little background work is starting to come in. The film industry slows down every year from August to about late October. Hurricane season. No producer wants to get half way through filming a project and then have to evacuate. His set might be gone when he returns. Tonight I did a "REVEL" down at the Roosevelt Hotel.

A convention was being held and to make it in true New Orleans style, a brass jazz band marches into the room and a parade starts. The band played loud and sharp as we reveled in behind them in our costumes. We met the guests at the end of cocktail hour and paraded them through the grand lobby of the Roosevelt Hotel to dinner.

THE ROOSEVELT

Great fun for everyone. Colorful costumes flinging beads at drunk optometrists. We paraded the party downstairs and thru a magnificent grand lobby and back upstairs to the dinning room. In the lobby were two of my friends wearing big heads. Sweating their asses off to pose for hundreds of cell phone pictures.

Yep, it's considered a job down here. It was the first Revel for my friend Bobby from Philadelphia. He did great, he has a Mummer background.

 I just can't get "When the Saints go marching in" out of my head now.

Street performing ain't easy....

I keep saying that I am going to get back over to the Quarter on a regular basis to juggle. Hats off to those guys, it takes balls to do this everyday for a living. A lot of the musicians hawk DVDs for $10 and play clubs at night. Get hassled by asshole drunken tourists. Just like driving a cab at night on the Jersey Shore.

Only one time did I ever have a problem with another performer. A balloon bender claimed I was on HIS corner. I replied "AND?...) Even I'm not afraid of a guy with a balloon poodle on his head.

For the record I AM NOT A MIME, I am a juggler.

Someday....

My goal is once I get settled with steady income and a few bucks ahead, is to move to the French Quarter.  There is something supernatural about it. I'm not one given into new agey paranormal feelings.  This town has such a rich history of both positive and negative energy that almost trips you on the sidewalk. Royal Street is fantastic, art galleries and street performers populate the street with the ghosts of pirates.

Recently a few residents have squawked about the street musicians who make their living from performing on Royal. It's like the people who move next to the airport and try to get the airplanes to "come in from the other direction."  I can think of worst sounds to wake up with a hangover to.  Erika Lewis is one of my favorites to catch singing on the corner.

Local girl

Coming from New Jersey I realize that my home state has a certain arrogance about natives who make it good. I've made the observation that the rest of the country isn't nearly as impressed by Bruce Springsteen as a Jerseyite is. Nj can boast of a few important names.  Bruce Willis, Danny DeVito, Susan Sarandon, Frank Sinatra,  Jack Nicholson, Meryl Streep, Kirsten Dunst, Bruce Springsteen, James Gandolfini, Ed Harris, Queen Latifah, Abbot and Costello, Ray Liotta, Joe Pesci, John Travolta,  Jon Bon Jovi, Christina Ricci, Brooke Shields and Tom Cruise, (ok, no one in Jersey ever boasts about Tom Cruise.) 


Down here in Louisiana the locals are proud of the great contributions to the music industry that their state has made over the centuries.  Anytime my friend Russell mentions a favorite actor I'll point out "Yo, he's from Jersey, Exit 117."  He will be quick to point out Britney Spears. Ok, I'll give you that one.  


Ms Spears hails from the small town of  Kentwood Louisiana.  Sure she's had her highs and lows. (Lows resulting from highs.) I never really listened to her music, not my kind of tunes. I think now that I'm a Louisianian I should take more of an interest in her career. 

Does anybody know if her mom is single? Once I get my teeth fixed I might start dating again. Yo, you guys back in Jersey, check out my step daughter....