We have had a flurry of new subscribers all of a sudden. Either tourists are reading the business cards I pass out or someone has shared a link to my page. Whoever did that, thank you. I need all the help I can get building this audience. The story of my life in New Orleans does not exactly have mass appeal unless you have all the time in the world.
A tip of my fedora to our new free subscribers, welcome to the club. Happiness loves company. A an extra tip of my fedora to the two new paid subscribers. I love paid subscribers. Mrs. King needs a new pair of shoes and if this does not work, I will need a new career.
Because I have an urgent need for pin money, I am thinking of being a tooth gem installer. It is an unlicensed profession for now so I may as well get in on the ground floor while the getting is easy. Remember earlier this year when I got those gems glued to my teeth? I went to the young lady’s apartment where I-10 crosses on the drainage canals. That neighborhood was like a visit to Purgatory for me, but I came out okay, as most souls in Purgatory do. I had some dental bling to show for it.
Do you see what you have been missing? Paid subscribers can read about this saga in the archives. I am sure it lasted a couple of weeks. Time moves in slow motion in New Orleans.
There are angels in the details.
My tooth gems fell off soon after my trip to Birmingham in July. That was fine. All I needed was for them to last until my trip to Birmingham. Katherine never believes anything I say so I wanted to show her the proof. Katherine still never believes anything I say. I do live an improbable life. I live in New Orleans. To people who know New Orleans, everything I say makes perfect sense. I have gone native.
There is a place around the corner from my house, in the 7th Ward. It is on North Galvez Street, right before Elysian Fields Avenue. A lady installs tooth gems and she teaches people how to do it and sells the equipment. I have to make an appointment to meet with her and investigate my options. It will be cheaper than medical school and quicker, too.
My new career will either involve sparkly things, I am the Rhinestone Dandy, or I will buy a cotton candy machine. When was the last time you tasted fresh cotton candy? Mmmm...
I asked Python Lady when the last time it was that she had cotton candy. It was five years ago. She had a little bit during Carnival. Her cousin owns a machine.
I just took a poll of young people. Most of them have never had fresh cotton candy, only the kind out of plastic supermarket bags. I have never had that kind. The idea factory cotton candy repels me.
Nobody I have talked to today has tasted fresh cotton candy in less than five years, and, even then, Python only had a bite. But, whenever they start thinking about the flavor of fresh cotton candy, they smile fondly with a faraway look. Good memories.
Traditionally, blue cotton candy is raspberry-flavored, hence the name blue raspberry. Pink cotton candy is traditionally vanilla-flavored, or, alternatively, pink bubblegum flavor, which is the same thing.
Vanilla contains some of the same esters as breast milk. That is why it is such a popular flavor. What’s not to like about vanilla ice cream?
Now, I am going to tell you about New Orleans’ curious connection to cotton candy. More in a moment.