|I haven't lived in New Orleans long enough to be considered an antique. I've probably moved to late to gain that cachet.|
When the driver found out my plan to be dropped off in Lee Circle rather than at Hotel Le Cirque, he just took me to my street instead so I wouldn't have to walk so far. We discussed recent news in the Times-Picayune. He brought me up to speed since I've only been reading hotel copies of USA Today and the Wall Street Journal. I love to read the WSJ, which I milked for information every day this past week. USA Today takes about ten minutes to finish for anything of interest.
I spoke with a professional body painter who is in town for a workshop. I was polite enough not to ask if that is a real career. We talked about the recent body painting work at the last White Linen Night, which she knew all about. New Orleans: where body painters come to perfect their craft. Who knew? We do now.
She had never been here and she said she had dreamed about a visit for years. Me too. She is coming down in March for three weeks with her husband to celebrate her birthday. He is originally from Slidell.
When the van driver learned I have lived here for a little over three months (!) he welcomed me and said everyone appreciates having new citizens in the city. I promised to be the best citizen I can be. I don't know how I am going to accomplish this yet, but it has always been my intention. The road to New Orleans is paved with good intentions. I arrived here by motorcycle on all back roads from Boston. I think I am qualified to comment on the road to New Orleans.
There are many ways to the same nirvana.