Today, I’m back at Coliseum Square Park in New Orleans, where I often spend lunch hours strolling the grounds, borrowing shade from live oaks, coveting surrounding mansions and trying not to look like a creep on a park bench. Across the...
This morning, my wife, Lisa, did not forget I promised to go with her to see The Bean while we were in downtown Chicago. The large, mirror-surface, popular work of public art watches the entrance of Millennium Park, a few blocks from our hotel. I...
My New Orleans street smarts are keeping me out of trouble while playing tourist in downtown Chicago. Yesterday morning, I was discovered nosing around the entrance of a restricted area under East Lower Wacker by an employee of the city auto...
At the Art Institute of Chicago, the special exhibit “America After the Fall: Painting in the 1930s” is worth a visit. It offers nostalgic visions, realistic yet often overly optimistic, and fanciful renderings of a . . .
I am exploring downtown Chicago – the prettiest, wealthiest, most touristy part of the city. The part where visitors snap photos and report to folks back home that the city is wonderful. And why not? Vacations are for fantasy – for living, for a...
A swath of longleaf pine, live oak and cape myrtle endures the ages in low-rolling hills across Southeast Louisiana just north of Interstate 10. This rural place of small farms, sleepy villages and two-lane roads feels nearly . . .
Yesterday, just south of St. Francisville, La., a highway sign pointing to Port Hudson State Historic Site caught our eyes and we doubled back to have a look, having learned long ago to trust serendipity . . .
If you get to St. Charles Tavern before daybreak, the overnight people are still here. Service workers who showed up after 2 a.m. and hospital staff in scrubs, who just ended their shifts, occupy noisy tables in the middle of the room. Older...
I grew up in the Midwest, with real winters. I don’t miss shoveling snow, trudging mini-mountains of sludge or wading slush. Snow plows scraped up and down our street and past our driveway, installing hard-packed barricades of misery and...
Aunt Martha and Uncle Charles in Tallahassee have not felt up to the task of stringing lights on their fresh Christmas tree, which you can smell throughout the small house. Since Lisa and I are visiting them we are happily doing that holiday...
I’m sitting in St. Charles Tavern, pre-dawn, drinking coffee and listening to a mustachioed, 50ish guy dressed in a plaid shirt and a ball cap, deep of throat and shallow of content, loudly and with great passion explain to a young couple the...
5:30 p.m. Monday. Can’t get generator to run. Been working on it for two days. Hurricane coming tomorrow night. 6 p.m. Monday. We make last minute run to Home Depot. Will they still be open? Will they have any generators . . .
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