Observations, essays, ramblings, thoughts and more from a slightly reformed New Yorker who has returned home to Ohio. A spiritual person having a human experience, writer, photographer, and public safety professional.
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Welcome to my site and thank you for reading. After many times thinking, if only I had a blog, well-- here we are. This blog will feature writings on a variety of topics from roadside food, to leadership in the fire service; politics; culture- gay, straight, and indifferent, my experiences in Ohio, New York and beyond; and much much more. It's my hope that you will find it interesting and that it stirs at least some thought and discussion. I am certain you wont always agree, but that is what its all about right? Oh and one more thing:
The views expressed on this site are entirely my own. They do not reflect in anyway the views or positions of my employer (s) and should not taken as official policy of ANY organization with which I am associated. Reading or sharing any post from this site shall be taken as an indication that you have read this disclaimer and understand it.
Friday, September 16, 2011
From New Orleans
I have to say, at first thought, its kind of like every place I have ever been and liked, merged into one compact space with more than a few drunken tourists thrown in for good measure. Kind of like Buckeye Lake (ask someone from Ohio) meets Montreal. I have even met more than my usual show of characters-- ranging from an elderly lady on a streetcar who I am certain put a curse on me (more about that later, but how the hell do I know where the hospital is?) to a creature of the night that was an amalgamation of nearly every troubled soul I have ever dated in one sinewy frame. Don't worry kids, I am not moving him back to NYC to live with me.. I have learned something over these past few years.
But I have to say its a great town place. More inspiration than should be possible in such a small geographic area. Today I was not surprised when I gave birth to a fully formed poem somewhere near the french market, while having coffee at a sidewalk cafe watching this blend of tourists, and locals-- transients and thieves-- musicians and the deaf.
I leave you with these prophetic words.. uttered in the midst of a male review the likes of which would make Caligula or Bruce Vilanch quite proud: