Or so it seems like. Actually, this morning I rediscovered some of my favorite blogs (non-NOLA) are still active after all these years.
But I was just going over my NOLA area blogs and many of them have either closed shop or aren't actively blogging anymore.
There are a few left that update regularly:
BayouCreole's posts always delight me
Glen over at Bigezbear has me thinking and/or laughing all the time
Cliff is still sitting on his porch
Jeffrey over at Library Chronicles blogs several times a day
NOLA defender updates daily
New Orleans News Ladder can be counted on to update every day
Pistolette is still active and continues to entertain me
Chris over at Prytania Waterline has resumed blogging
Mark Folse blogs about returning to school and his views on everything on a regular basis
Varg's still kicking
Speaking from personal experience, Facebook is one reason I have slowed down blogging here myself. It's too damned addictive! But I'm making an effort to find things to blog about whilst perusing Facebook, Twitter, Google+ and others.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Wednesday, May 09, 2012
Pet Cemetery
This picture so aptly predicts the future of the woman in the foreground. She was Dorothy Thompson from Toca, Louisiana in St. Bernard Parish. The man standing over her - Brandon Nodier - has just been arrested for her murder....27 years after it happened.
NOLA.com published an in-depth article about the history of this case here. It's a great read and would make a fantastic movie. The story starts at the beginning of the 20th century and ends in 2012. I found it fascinating.
Excerpt:
It was estimated that about 5,000 pets were buried on its grounds, mostly dogs and cats, but also parakeets, parrots, myna birds, a cheetah, a hen, monkeys, rabbits -- even the boa constrictor named Serita who had performed on "The Tonight Show" in the 1960s and was afforded a funeral with a choir that sang "Goodnight, Irene."
Graves ranged from simple to very elaborate, costing as much as $2,000. A human-sized Buddhist statue topped one of a pet cat, and one woman's ashes were cemented in a large urn atop her dead dog's tombstone, as per her last wishes.
Thanks to Benjamin Alexander-Bloch from the Times Picayune.
Tuesday, May 08, 2012
Be Nice or Leave
From the Boston Globe
(I copied the whole article because I've seen how these things disappear after a while)
Written by Farah Stockman , this article strikes true to my heart, as I grew up just north of Boston and can relate to the Northeast stuffiness. Having lived in this area for 30+ years, I can relate and LOVE the fact that this is my home. Enjoy.
-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`
I just got back from New Orleans and I’ve been going through withdrawal. It’s been three days since a bartender called me “Sugar” or a stranger chatted me up in the street.
Don’t get me wrong. I love Boston. I have come to accept the arms-length way we show affection for each other. I understand that when the lady-with-the-dog-in-my-condo raises her eyebrow at me, it means: “Are you my new neighbor? Welcome to the building!” I know that the hair-trigger honk a millisecond after a light turns green is just the guy-behind-me’s way of saying hello.
But there is something refreshing about the shameless displays of friendliness in New Orleans. The crush of people waiting for barbecued shrimp at Jacques Imo’s bar are more likely to buy each other drinks than get snippy about who is seated next. No one gets testy with the waitress. A sign instructs them not to. It reads: “Be Nice or Leave.’’
The same sign hangs in Willie Mae’s Scotch House, where the fried chicken is so large it looks like pterodactyl. Back in 2005, the James Beard Foundation gave 89-year-old Willie Mae Seaton an award for making her restaurant a place where people don’t just eat; they belong. After Hurricane Katrina, chefs from around the city helped her rebuild. If that is not down-home friendliness, I don’t know what is.
In fact, those signs — “Be Nice or Leave” — hang all over the city. It’s an audacious mantra for a place that thrives on tourism. Although visitors are returning — 7.5 million came last year — it’s still less than the 10 million who came before the storm. Katrina brought this economy to its knees, yet people here still feel they can afford to demand friendliness from curmudgeonly outsiders. How could that be?
Julie Jackson, a lawyer who helps provides free legal services to artists, told me the signs mean that quality of life is more important than money. In the sharp-elbowed Northeast, it sometimes feels like it’s “be nice and you lose.” But in the Big Easy everyone is expected “to enjoy life without placing too many demands and to take the time to be ‘nice’ to those around you, whether they are strangers or not,” she said.
Connie Zeanah Atkinson, a professor at the University of New Orleans, said history might have something to do with it. Boston was founded by Puritans who shunned fancy clothes and idle chitchat. New Orleans was founded by French-speaking aristocrats who threw lavish costume balls and allowed taverns and gambling dens.
The “Be Nice or Leave’’ signs got popular after the hurricane, Atkinson said: “When we almost lost our beautiful, fragile, damaged city, people started saying ‘Treat her gentle.’ ”
Michael Mizell-Nelson, another historian, said the signs might have originated as a demand for dignity from a hardscrabble underclass whose music and food became the pride of the city.
Mizell-Nelson was one of 2,000 New Orleanian refugees who spent time in Massachusetts after Katrina. The culture shock was severe: Cold weather. Frowning faces. “Bars closing at a certain time,” he recalled. “People would tell me this is something that they really can’t fathom.”
The last stop on my quest was the “Be Nice or Leave” gallery, where an artist called Dr. Bob sells the signs for $35. The place resembles a junkyard that was attacked by a rainbow. Red driftwood with a devil’s face dangles from the ceiling.
Dr. Bob regaled me with tales of riding his motorized bicycle all the way to Biloxi, and an albino hermit called the Onion Man who is said to live in the woods around Lake Pontchartrain, and how a creature called the Honey Island Swamp Monster once briefly abducted his friends.
After 45 minutes, I told him I didn’t want to take too much of his time. I just wanted to know the origin of the signs. He looked deeply disappointed in me. Then told me he just saw one once, at an African-American backwoods bar, and started painting them.
Mystery solved. I’m back in Boston now, where it is considered creepy to make eye contact on the T; where taxi drivers barely pause their telephone conversations long enough to hear your destination. The lady-with-the-dog-in-my-condo didn’t even raise her eyebrow at me. But hey. That means she recognizes me. That I belong here. That I’m home.
(I copied the whole article because I've seen how these things disappear after a while)
Written by Farah Stockman , this article strikes true to my heart, as I grew up just north of Boston and can relate to the Northeast stuffiness. Having lived in this area for 30+ years, I can relate and LOVE the fact that this is my home. Enjoy.
-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`-`
I just got back from New Orleans and I’ve been going through withdrawal. It’s been three days since a bartender called me “Sugar” or a stranger chatted me up in the street.
Don’t get me wrong. I love Boston. I have come to accept the arms-length way we show affection for each other. I understand that when the lady-with-the-dog-in-my-condo raises her eyebrow at me, it means: “Are you my new neighbor? Welcome to the building!” I know that the hair-trigger honk a millisecond after a light turns green is just the guy-behind-me’s way of saying hello.
But there is something refreshing about the shameless displays of friendliness in New Orleans. The crush of people waiting for barbecued shrimp at Jacques Imo’s bar are more likely to buy each other drinks than get snippy about who is seated next. No one gets testy with the waitress. A sign instructs them not to. It reads: “Be Nice or Leave.’’
The same sign hangs in Willie Mae’s Scotch House, where the fried chicken is so large it looks like pterodactyl. Back in 2005, the James Beard Foundation gave 89-year-old Willie Mae Seaton an award for making her restaurant a place where people don’t just eat; they belong. After Hurricane Katrina, chefs from around the city helped her rebuild. If that is not down-home friendliness, I don’t know what is.
In fact, those signs — “Be Nice or Leave” — hang all over the city. It’s an audacious mantra for a place that thrives on tourism. Although visitors are returning — 7.5 million came last year — it’s still less than the 10 million who came before the storm. Katrina brought this economy to its knees, yet people here still feel they can afford to demand friendliness from curmudgeonly outsiders. How could that be?
Julie Jackson, a lawyer who helps provides free legal services to artists, told me the signs mean that quality of life is more important than money. In the sharp-elbowed Northeast, it sometimes feels like it’s “be nice and you lose.” But in the Big Easy everyone is expected “to enjoy life without placing too many demands and to take the time to be ‘nice’ to those around you, whether they are strangers or not,” she said.
Connie Zeanah Atkinson, a professor at the University of New Orleans, said history might have something to do with it. Boston was founded by Puritans who shunned fancy clothes and idle chitchat. New Orleans was founded by French-speaking aristocrats who threw lavish costume balls and allowed taverns and gambling dens.
The “Be Nice or Leave’’ signs got popular after the hurricane, Atkinson said: “When we almost lost our beautiful, fragile, damaged city, people started saying ‘Treat her gentle.’ ”
Michael Mizell-Nelson, another historian, said the signs might have originated as a demand for dignity from a hardscrabble underclass whose music and food became the pride of the city.
Mizell-Nelson was one of 2,000 New Orleanian refugees who spent time in Massachusetts after Katrina. The culture shock was severe: Cold weather. Frowning faces. “Bars closing at a certain time,” he recalled. “People would tell me this is something that they really can’t fathom.”
The last stop on my quest was the “Be Nice or Leave” gallery, where an artist called Dr. Bob sells the signs for $35. The place resembles a junkyard that was attacked by a rainbow. Red driftwood with a devil’s face dangles from the ceiling.
Dr. Bob regaled me with tales of riding his motorized bicycle all the way to Biloxi, and an albino hermit called the Onion Man who is said to live in the woods around Lake Pontchartrain, and how a creature called the Honey Island Swamp Monster once briefly abducted his friends.
After 45 minutes, I told him I didn’t want to take too much of his time. I just wanted to know the origin of the signs. He looked deeply disappointed in me. Then told me he just saw one once, at an African-American backwoods bar, and started painting them.
Mystery solved. I’m back in Boston now, where it is considered creepy to make eye contact on the T; where taxi drivers barely pause their telephone conversations long enough to hear your destination. The lady-with-the-dog-in-my-condo didn’t even raise her eyebrow at me. But hey. That means she recognizes me. That I belong here. That I’m home.
Monday, May 07, 2012
Sales Tax Holiday
Hurricane sales tax holiday set for May 26-27
BY: The Associated Press
BATON ROUGE — Stocking up on flashlights, batteries and other items to get ready for hurricane season this summer? You might want to wait until May 26 and 27, when the state holds a sales tax holiday for hurricane preparedness items.
That weekend, Louisiana residents won't have to pay the 4 percent state sales tax on a list of items such as flashlights and candles, weather radios, waterproof sheeting, gas or diesel fuel tanks, batteries and chargers, and storm shutter devices. The sales tax holiday exempts the first $1,500 of the purchase price.
Local sales taxes still apply unless the municipality exempted them.
Hurricane season begins June 1.
BY: The Associated Press
BATON ROUGE — Stocking up on flashlights, batteries and other items to get ready for hurricane season this summer? You might want to wait until May 26 and 27, when the state holds a sales tax holiday for hurricane preparedness items.
That weekend, Louisiana residents won't have to pay the 4 percent state sales tax on a list of items such as flashlights and candles, weather radios, waterproof sheeting, gas or diesel fuel tanks, batteries and chargers, and storm shutter devices. The sales tax holiday exempts the first $1,500 of the purchase price.
Local sales taxes still apply unless the municipality exempted them.
Hurricane season begins June 1.
interesting quote
The word 'listen' contains the same letters as the word 'silent.' "
--Alfred Brendel,
Austrian pianist
--Alfred Brendel,
Austrian pianist
Wednesday, May 02, 2012
Still Beautiful
Seen pre-Katrina at Fountainebleau State Park in Mandeville, LA.
It's still there, although much smaller
Monday, April 30, 2012
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Farewell, Mr. Helm
Levon Helm left us today at the age of 71.
He was awesome.
Here's a link to a short slideshow from the NYT website
http://www.nytimes.com/slideshow/2012/04/18/arts/20120418HELM.html
Monday, April 16, 2012
Pulitzer for Huffington Post
HuffPo receives its first Pulitzer
link: http://www.nytimes.com/2012/04/17/business/media/2012-pulitzer-prize-winners-announced.html?emc=na
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