The Deadbeat Dad of New Orleans…

We’ve all heard the term. Typically it’ll refer to a parent who ignores his children, leaves them behind, is aware of, but does little to nothing to care for those in his charge, regardless of consequence. Well, the city of New Orleans has one of the worst deadbeat dads in history and his name is Sheriff Marlin N Gusman and his charges all occupy New … Continue reading The Deadbeat Dad of New Orleans…

On Leaving San Francisco…Converse All Stars, High Rents and the Fillmore Jazz Fest

I was standing outside the Converse All Star Store on Market Street in San Francisco when it became clear to me it was again, time to leave this city.  The sign in the store window yelled, “SHOES ARE BORING! WEAR SNEAKERS!” in large, capitalized letters and behind this sign stood an equally loud, colorful scream of red sneakers, white sneakers and blue, all arranged on … Continue reading On Leaving San Francisco…Converse All Stars, High Rents and the Fillmore Jazz Fest

Reflecting on a show: Ani Difranco…

I saw Ani DiFranco two nights ago at the Fillmore in San Francisco…great show, some songs I’d never heard performed before like “School Night” or “Overlap,” and she was in fine form, striking the guitar so hard during “Napoleon” or “Shameless,” you’d think it might break, and performing new songs that thanks to Youtube, I knew by name already, “Careless Words,” “Genie,” and more…and none … Continue reading Reflecting on a show: Ani Difranco…

Knitting behind enemy lines…

Update: Saints win 23-20…Bwahahahaha…! This is the day I’ve been waiting for… New Orleans Saints vs. the San Francisco 49ers. A day that will live in infamy? The times that try men’s souls? How about it was the best of times, it was the worst of times? Fine, I’ll take the latter and in a few hours I’ll be sitting calmly in a bar in … Continue reading Knitting behind enemy lines…

Independence Day…

The 4th of July… Tis’ a holiday of conflict. Maybe it’s twenty plus years of social work that has done this to me. Or perhaps it’s simply a matter of giving a damn about people I’ve never met in towns I’ve never been to, concerns about whether they have enough to eat, a place to live, a sense of safety and hoping these random strangers … Continue reading Independence Day…

An open letter from a suspicious package…

Good morning. Please allow me to introduce myself, I’m a suspicious package. It would seem my brothers and I are causing a bit of a problem in the Crescent City these days. At the WWII Museum, at the Superdome, on Canal, on Poydras, on Rampart: though my first impulse might be to apologize for the actions of my wayward brothers, I can’t. I won’t. Not … Continue reading An open letter from a suspicious package…

It happened again last night…

Walking down Polk Street and taking a left onto Sutter, I passed the entrance to one of the many bars just as a rather rotund fellow came stumbling out. He said something to me, rather excitedly but I had ear phones on and couldn’t hear him. Again, we do that here so random strangers typically don’t try to talk to us, but he was insistent. … Continue reading It happened again last night…

An OPP Bedtime Story…

Once upon a time, there was a tween named Billy in New Orleans, not yet a teenager, but no longer a small boy. He’d been having a difficult life, but his mother taught him the best she could. Billy loved his mother and Billy loved his house. Billy loved his friends and Billy loved his faithful dog, Rex, more than anything. One day, after school, … Continue reading An OPP Bedtime Story…