Crashbox

What a week.

Old phone died, brand new replacement phone would not hold a charge for some reason. Transmission is going in the 145, which, being our daily driver presents the nasty reality that we do currently have a reliable source of transportation. AC is sick. Super-sick. And of course, her illness flared up only hours after I left for New Orleans to be gone for four days. Had to be in Louisiana for a wedding, which cost a lot more than anticipated, though I'm not going to say I regret going; it was pretty awesome overall, except for knowledge that my wife was miserable back at home. These things will sort themselves out to be sure, but for the moment, I am allowing myself a brief grumble. On a positive note, the weather has finally turned from frustrating and nearly unbearable heat to a hint of real Fall crispness, and that is aspirin for my tired soul.

What did I think of New Orleans? Well, the French Quarter was very enjoyable and interesting by day---but after a night on Bourbon St. for a bachelor party (not my idea), I found myself thinking: there are a lot of ways to find one's self on a fast track to the Abyss, and this has got to be one of the more effective ones. In a word, I was disgusted with what I saw. I did however encounter some cool fixed gear bikes, but being a slow and clumsy photographer I missed the girl riding a hot converted mixte up and down the cobble-stones. The bright blue one with the riser bars beside the fifty-story office building made me smile at the thought of a young professional confounding his bosses when he pedals up in the morning in his tie and clipless shoes, grinning and sweaty. Too bad I didn't get a shot of that one either. Overall, I would like to return to New Orleans someday, but I wasn't impressed as much as I had expected to be. Apologies to anyone who finds my review narrow or offensive...I guess I must be a little too Yankee.