Anti-freeze, New Orleans-Style.
Someone left a sofa on the sidewalk.
I am in Storyville. It is crowded in here. It is cold outside. Where the sofa is, it is 57 degrees Fahrenheit. It is so busy that people are outside in the cold, waiting for a table to open up. It could be awhile.
An old farmer from Monroe, Louisiana is here visiting his fey grandson who is attending UNO. Pronounce it like you are in New Orleans, not like you are playing cards. The old farmer is with his grandson, getting drinks for while they wait for a table to open up.
I am thinking about that article I am still working my way through, The Beautiful Future of Work. This kid looks like he is going to start whimpering. If he was born when his grandfather was, he would be toughened up by now, part of the family business, a farmer, like his father before him and his grandfather before him, or, he would dead.
Instead, he is here asking for a latté and he is disappointed that there is no espresso machine. The grandfather, who has just ordered a double old fashioned, light on the sugar and ice, says, “Buck up, Scottie! It’s cold out there, you need some anti-freeze. Order yourself a real drink! It’s on me.”
“Do you have any coffee drinks?” Scottie asked Boggington. “It’s cold outside,” he pipped.
He waited for a pot of coffee to be brewed for his Irish coffee. The old farmer from Monroe insisted that the kid’s drink have a little “anti-freeze,” as he put it. The kid is probably 27.
There was no hot coffee at the moment because this is not a coffee shop. Who drinks coffee at noon?
Now, I am watching a mother and daughter share a crawfish beignet, which Mrs. King always orders. They, like Mrs. King, say it is delicious. It is basically a calzone full of boiled crawfish mixed with cheddar, mozzarella, jalapeños, carmelized onions. The whole shebang is artfully draped with a jalapeño aioli sauce. Everyone
Father Seelos is in the air. I have talked to two different people in this past hour about him. They told me about miracles. Good things come in threes.
I saw my third person in a wheelchair today. It was overdue. This time, the wheelchair was not self-propelled. A guy was pushing another guy in a wheelchair. The guy in the wheelchair was all twisted out of shape. They parked their wheelchair next to my Vespa, so we chatted a bit before I came indoors.
Okay, I’ve got something to talk about behind the paywall. The reason I mention it every day is that paid subscribers cannot see it. This is my way of telling them that what follows is the good stuff, such as it is.