• Riding in a car with a child.

    So there I was, holding a sealed container in the front passenger seat of our car, as my wife drove the last leg of our journey home. Supporting the bottom of the thin plastic container with both hands, I could feel the warm contents gently sloshing about to the rhythm of the highway. Just moments before, my daughter had gotten sick in the car, the second time she had such a bout of illness on this trip. My wife was frustrated, but I was just peachy. Why? Let me take you back one week. We were driving to New Orleans to visit my sister. We had just left when my daughter started coughing. I asked my daughter if she was o.k. and she said she was. But then she started gagging. I lunged for the plastic container we brought along, in the even that such a contingency should occur, and handed it to my daughter. She coughed a gagged for a few seconds before declaring that she was feeling o.k. She held out the container for me in her outstretched hands, and then proceeded to throw up between the newly created void between her arms and into her lap.

    Dear mother of all that is holy, what was she thinking?

    This is how I came to be happy about holding a warm, sealed container of car sickness in my hands on the final leg of our drive home from New Orleans.

  • Being lost without prior knowledge.

    At the risk of having to give up my key to the men’s room, I have something to admit. It turns out I didn’t have a friggin’ clue where I really was. It all started innocently enough. I was looking to improve on my last bicycle ride in New Orleans, which now holds the title “least scenic ride of my life.” I was also looking to ride a route I hadn’t taken before. One way was downtown, so that was out. Another direction was Audubon Park; but I had done that one twice already so that was out. Another direction was the river front, but I had done that one before too, and I wasn’t going to make that mistake again. That left one direction yet to be explored, so off I went. The direction of the day took me past a not entirely unpleasant mix of business and residential zoning. I was cruising along having a wonderful time and wondering when I would find what I was looking for, when I learned how Christopher Columbus must of felt when he learned he hadn’t been to India after all. There, right in front of me, was Xavier University. You see, I knew approximately where Xavier University was, I just didn’t think I was going in that direction. To think I was lost all of that time and didn’t know it! My lay of the land re-established, I was able to make an educated guess as to the proper route to take home. Why didn’t I just go back the way I came? You’ve never gone on a bicycle exploration with me, have you?

    No, it wasn’t the first time I’ve been a little lost on my bike; but hey, that’s half the fun.

  • A little real estate tip for New Orleans.

    If you are ever in the market for property in New Orleans, beware of the term “waterfront.” I’ve taken two lovely rides through uptown New Orleans so far this week. Riding under a canopy of old growth trees, past the old restored homes was absolutely fabulous. Having taken essentially the same route twice I was looking for a little variety, so I went off towards the river this morning. I knew there was a whole lot of industry on the river, but I figured in the hour I had given myself for the ride out I would find something pleasing to the eye. I was wrong. The Mississippi river in New Orleans is all business and no pleasure. The water is ugly and the shore is worse. You notice how folks often refer to the “mighty Mississippi”, and not the “mesmerizing Mississippi” or the “majestic Mississippi”? That’s because it has all the charm of a mud slide. For the return trip I took a detour through uptown again. At least half of the ride was cool – even if it was a repeat.