Did not realize

I did not realize how much time has slipped away since I updated this blog. Things are hectic, crazy. The tour I had as a school teacher is over, apparently the numbers here in New Orleans have died, and other execs need raises and jobs more than I do. This is on a day that we put a bid on another house (picture pending).

Feels like an opportunity and perhaps all those colorful characters that made my porch like a novel will return with a vengeance. Lazy days with drinks and afternoon stories. Waiting for that parade of storms that comes but once a year, tossing throws of winds and tin roofs about the city.

Speaking of which, we do fear the next season. It has been a lofty mild and breezy winter. Perhaps five coat days total. That just is not enough to warm the gulf at all, it looks bad for us. With another dragon chain of Lilith tempests coming through.

Wish us luck, we may need it. Those structures still standing may not survive.

Returned and Why I'm not Rich.

Did I mention I am back, back on this porch on a midsummer's January. Turns out that we are getting days and days of heat, and the trouble is that the gulf is not managing to cool off. That could mean a rather difficult and evacuating summer.

New Orleans is returning, despite what Nagin and LaGasse say about it. Cannot understand why they would put their foot in their mouths and say such idiotic things. 'Chocolate City' indeed! What was the man thinking! Plans are going up, stores are opening. You no longer go to the restaurant and eat off of paper plates. But details can still be tiring.

Sitting on the porch in these oddly hot days, the dominoes shift and shuffle about. The rum is still the same and stories are as boring as ever. Looking about the palisade of the porch remains the same shadowed fun. Though we do not get as smashed as we once did. Good thing is that there are no one on the streets and not many have jobs, so the portal is always full.

I have always believed that the reason why I am not rich is that I would throw so many parties in house, porch, balcony, and yard that I would severely alter the economic and social structure of wherever I am. Mayor and officials, cops and bankers would call their offices in sick. I guess the gods just do not want it at all. For I and my pitiful entourage would dissolve all those vital reality strings that took them so long to implement.

Been out but back

Alright alright, been back for a while fixing my house and fixing my life. Like the whole city. The porch is rather sad, all the old regulars are gone or going. Even Yayabo (the man who once shared Papa Rellenas with me). Times are tough in this old town, think I lost my job because it dwelled far to close to the levees and the dreaded 9th ward. However, like the Yi Jing told me, enjoy the time and drink. That I have been doing- incredibly. I have a friend over that is a monster connoisser and he has gotten me into drinking wine, specifically spanish wines.

Now a heavy rum drinker like me, it is tough to drink wine. I mean you by a bottle of rum do not expect to finish it, at all. You buy a bottle of wine, and you could thunder right through it. Yet slowly my palate seems to be adjusting. Plus what the man has provided with it. Yesterday he made a sazon of onions, garlic and olive oil then threw in two huge chorizos (Spanish blood sausage that makes everything around it the color of Safron) and had a sort of fondu in the cast iron with French bread (pictures pending). Drank two bottles had a wonderful time and calming walk about the neighborhood afterwards.

Sometimes the deluge brings new beginnings

Countdown to Home

Looks like we are leaving back to the Crescent in a few days. All reports state that we are fine, our area is dry. The porch has continued in exile long enough, now it is time to return to the homeland. I want to go home purely for health reasons. Last couple of days been gulping the rum and ice, eating the fried out pork fat, congri, yucca at later and later hours in the day. Cramming odd Latin foods down my gullet at stranger and stranger times. That is fine if I was a Latin Jazz band leader with Machito or Tito Puente, but little old me, I am sorry. Never passed gas like this before.

So now the mad Hispanic family dash is on! The relative are leaving. For reasons that I cannot understand, no one comes to see me. Everyone wants us to come over there, a lechon here, a mojito there, pampero in Hialeah, dominoes in Kendall. Next time I either will visit Miami clandestinely, like a Communist, or wait for cloning technology to be perfected. It is impossible!

So I sit here on the virtual porch burping and farting, waiting for another invitation to calories that I have no way of burning, as my liver works like an old air conditioner in South Florida- as in barely functioning!

KaRita

Alright comon, someone has a problem with me somewhere. Here in Miami, chilling all is well, with the family, porching and drinking and having a lovely time. The nights have been filled with immense amounts of Cuban food and rum. Bad news is that unlike my native town, you cannot buy liquor in any supermarket like you can in Louisiana (Catholics are such pleasant alcoholics)

(By the way Miami is odd in the way of porching, not only do houses not have porches exactly, but the people hardly use them. You see everyone in this town seemed to have been born in a very cold hospital. Air conditioning is in their blood, it permeates them. Every house in city, well the
new ones, are nothing but refridgerated boxes. Gone are the high ceilings, narrow windows, and courtyards of classical tropical architexture. No everything is made to maximize the air conditioning seal. They cannot live without it. Only problem is that it is contagious- you will note the examples I have provided. Try porching on that laboratory slide).

Then out of nowhere comes this other THING called Rita, I swear it seems like I am watching a hurricane parade during Mardi Gras. Well there is a good idea that will be put to no use, a Carnival parade of hurricanes. Just like to see the people that find humor in that!

Now Rita is battering Key West, and is probably going to turn to at least threaten New Orleans. The mayor even cancelled the repopulation. Besides, what am I going to do? Return to the city and wait for the thing to hit me right in the face? I think not. I will just simply wait here, stearing at my family's one billion movie channels on satellite and enjoy the back patio.

Oh wait those movies depend on electricity right?