Come Monday, it’ll be alright. Jimmy Buffet lyrics have long been the soundtrack for those ready for a pitcher of margaritas and a cheeseburger in Paradise! (It’s five o’clock, somewhere!) As a Florida native, there was no escape from Jimmy Buffet songs on the beach–played by those tourists covered in oil. (I am the one to blame for the fact that my dermatologist always wants a piece of me now as I eschewed sunscreen then so I wouldn’t smell like a tourist!)
Katrina hit New Orleans ten years after we’d moved away. So many stories, videos and songs followed but Jimmy Buffet’s Breathe In, Breathe Out, Move On was one I gravitated towards and played often. (I keep meaning to find myself a watch “that always just says now!”)
I never made it to Margaritaville when it opened in New Orleans in Storyville. But I’d heard the stories of New Orleans giving Jimmy Buffet his start.You can always stumble across live music in New Orleans and once upon a time, Jimmy was one of those musicians playing on Bourbon Street. Recently, when you and I were not the only ones missing Mardi Gras in 2021, I enjoyed nola.com’s Mardi Gras for All Y’all! Particularly, this segment where they asked Jimmy what New Orleans meant to him.
I’ve not yet read one of his many books. It is simple to find a plethora of Jimmy Buffet quotes online but today, I’m going back to an old , simple favorite.
Don’t try to explain it, just bow your head Breathe in, breathe out, move on.
I was lucky enough to take an impromptu trip down, this summer with friends and some of our kids. The city feeds my soul! I’m always looking for a way to get back to New Orleans. I set the novel I’m trying to finish in the Crescent City. so I can still “travel” there, mentally while I’m in the story! Actually traveling there is much more fun! A few days back in the city was enough to re-energize, enjoy a frozen daiquiri or three and to get the creative juices flowing! It was a nostalgic trip down memory lane while reaffirming that it isn’t the place we want to live at this moment. (Especially in July!)
Also known as “The City that Care Forgot.” New Orleans is as much a city full of poverty, crime and decomposition as it is mansions, parades and rebirth. It’s a city that can be both thrilling and terrifying, haunting and humorous, cultured and crass. I talked about some of that decomposition in my last post. As entertaining as a stroll through the French Quarter is, I couldn’t argue with my young friend who complained “this street stinks!” (The complex aroma of sweat, pot, urine, incense, body odor, cigarettes mixed with seafood cooking smacks you in the nose on a soggy July day!)
Many years ago, a local friend remarked, “New Orleans is a small town that thinks it is a big city.” You can easily turn a corner and run into someone you know–or at least someone who knows someone you know! (Southern hospitality is real, too! I’d asked if I could stay with her one of the nights during my visit. She immediately said yes but that they had a fundraiser/gala to attend that night so I should come along! I ended up at a lovely cocktail reception with my friends, enjoyed meeting more of their friends while we spied several well-known individuals, including the then-mayor of New Orleans! Walking back to the car after the party, we ran into a friend of hers who asked about the family; we ran into another two blocks later!) During my most recent visit, as the teens in our group flipped through vintage vinyl albums in The Louisiana Music Factory, I struck up a conversation with a man behind the counter. I mentioned that I’ve long since parted with the vinyl records I used to own as well as cassettes I listened to when I lived in New Orleans; he mentioned it’s a shame as those albums are hard to find and worth quite a bit! We quickly discovered we shared an alma mater, though we both attended Loyola University in different decades.
The historic mansions in the Garden District and grandiose mansions lining St. Charles still stand, as do the ancient live oaks in Audubon Park. Lafayette Cemetery No. 1 is closed to the public. The Rink looks different than I remember. I recall sipping coffee and writing with a view of the cemetery but the bookstore is there, along with boutiques and a larger coffee shop. Neither the Chopin nor Scheinuk florist shops remain on St. Charles Avenue. Several homes I remember as looking decrepit years ago have been beautifully renovated! It has always been a city were decay abuts growth; you can find something shiny and new adjacent to brokenness and disrepair. In the early 90’s, I’d often walk from my apartment to Loyola and pass exquisite homes beside deteriorating buildings. A couple of years later, one of those buildings was beautifully transformed into luxury apartments. (I was able to see the gorgeous interior after one of my bosses at the time moved in!) There have been obvious changes every time I’ve been back but I took special note of many uptown, this visit as I tried to show friends places I’d lived in the area.
We were only there for a few days, not enough time to visit enough of the amazing restaurants but I did enjoy some new places ! On our last evening in town, we were in Audubon Park and in the mood for Italian. Vincent’s Italian was close and had good reviews, so off we went! The place felt familiar but I was sure I hadn’t been there. (I had–when it was Compagno’s!) I was thrilled to see soft shell crab on the menu! I always hope for soft shell crab when I visit but am often disappointed. That meal made my visit complete and I can’t wait to go back, again!
New Orleans is no longer home but I miss it, each night and day!
Perseverance Hall is just gone. It has been a year since I read about the “jazz incubator’s” fall. I was editing a separate yet related post, when I realized that this one has been sitting in my drafts folder for a full year. (Both the date on the nola.com article and my initial draft of this post were August 24, 2022. Whoops!) But as it’s been exactly a year, it seemed fitting to post this one, today.
It was not the first culturally, musically and historically significant location to be “just gone,” but one of the most recent. As Paul Murphy mentions in that article, several jazz pioneers including Buddy Bolden, Sidney Bechet and King Oliver played there.
I was reminded of something that Davis said in an episode of the series Treme. I went in search of that remark online, but found a different scene, first. While not the “It’s a laundromat. Clearly,” line I was looking for, it is a scene featuring Perseverance Hall! I’m more familiar with King Oliver than Buddy Bolden but he is the one Davis was excited about, here!
I took a jazz history course as an undergrad at Loyola but Buddy Bolden does not stand out in my memory. I will have to find out more about him and I’ll come back here to let you know what I learn!
The line I was looked for comes during another stop in Davis’s music tour, in that same episode: As they view a laundromat that was once a recording studio, he explains that New Orleans does not preserve their history. There is much truth to this. There are obviously a plethora of plaques throughout the city detailing an event or someone who lived or died in a particular mansion. In a city that is over 300 years old however, there are many significant spots that have not been preserved.
I had her haircut(s). I had her albums. I bought Tiger Beat, Teen Beat, Just Seventeen and People magazines and kept a scrapbook of clippings featuring Olivia Newton-John posing with other celebrities, riding horses on her ranch or listing her favorite beauty tips. Posters of her face stared back from my walls. Having received an autographed photo in response to a fan letter I’d written, it was easy for my nine-year-old self to believe that I was, in fact, her biggest fan! (When I was 11, I met my Aunt’s future husband and recognized immediately that he was special when I learned that he not only owned a LaserDisc of one of her concerts, but had actually seen her in concert! He had the program to prove it and gave it to me, so it was easy to believe I was still the bigger fan else he’d have kept it, right?)
My favorite number has always been 8, so it was bittersweet that my childhood idol passed away on 8/8. I had to take that as a good sign–that this woman who tried to bring a little light to the world had certainly entered into a brighter one. My Facebook feed was flooded with tributes, memories and old video clips. I didn’t know that I had anything new or different to say that wasn’t being said. So I’m scheduling this to post on her birthday, to say in writing that this fan still hopes to meet her, one day! Meanwhile, perhaps I’ll be able to find a bottle of Koala Blue wine to raise a glass.
Today I’m revising a novel that deals with faith, love, music and magic. I’ve thrown in a bit of this and a pinch of that but if this book is a gumbo, the roux is music and magic. Olivia’s music pairs perfectly.
Sitting still is not exactly a workout. Crafting fiction is a bit of a mental workout; is that why it makes me so hungry? As soon as I set a word count goal or come up with what I believe to be an intriguing twist, all I can think about is what I am going to eat next!
I type rapidly but unfortunately, I don’t think my fingers are burning many calories. Most of the jobs I’ve held in my life involved some amount of typing and while I looked forward to lunch, it wasn’t my prime focus. I played piano for years but don’t recall that making my stomach grumble. It’s not my fingers. Sitting down to write however, entails taking a mental tour of the contents of my refrigerator and deciding which items I can eat whilst on the computer. I doubt this phenomenon was the origin of the term “starving artist” but my brain seems to believe otherwise!
I took a look just to see, assuming it couldn’t just be me! (It isn’t). Cool. While composing this post, I ate a sandwich and learned something new. I’ve yet to finish editing the chapter I sat down to work on. (Perhaps the conversation I am editing should not be taking place at the dinner table!)
I am old enough to know better. I should at least be old enough not to let fear get in the way of what I want to do but maybe I’m still young at heart! After launching this blog last year, I deleted every subsequent post. I was writing but I wasn’t posting–making it more of a diary than a blog.
I wrote about instances where I could feel God helping, pushing me, to write certain articles and finish this book. Then I’d decide no one wanted to read about that. There is an article, hiding safely in a saved drafts folder about how the Devil constantly tells us we are not good enough and how we listen. That piece is waiting to be pitched, somewhere!
Meanwhile, I am cleaning up the novel, today. It is storming outside. I love a good thunderstorm but it makes me want to curl up on the couch with a book, not edit mine. One of my main characters has a sister–a hippie writer who writes fantastical stories about river mermaids. So I am viewing this as a gift, an opportunity to imagine whether or not mermaids enjoy thunderstorms! I do not think they fear them. I’ll be back to let you know what I learn.
I am moving, virtually! I’m trying this site on for size; we’ll see if it fits! This is a bit like buying a new house. As I set up this new space, much of my writing style (furniture) will be the same as in the old site but I have more room to arrange things differently.
My original blog bears my childhood nickname. It was as much about parenting young children as it was about learning to craft fiction. The first blog needs renovations and updates which are a bit overwhelming. I haven’t sold the house and I’m sure I’ll move a few elements into this new space.
Meanwhile, those young children have grown as has my perspective and my writing. I’m exploring more styles and places to write. It is time for a more mature space bearing my grown-up name!
This site is a true work-in-progress! I am painting the walls and arranging the furniture. As I settle in, I’ll figure out where to hang the photos and have a virtual house-warming party!
I am looking forward to meeting my new neighbors! Feel free to say hi!
Lorayne Cupero 