I took Jack out for a ride this afternoon, and it felt so, so good. It was either a little bit cooler or I’ve acclimated, and that made biking around town much more pleasant.  I planned to ride down to the Marigny hoping to find the bike shop open for a payday treat, but got sidetracked Uptown, watching a movie shoot. I asked a guy on the sidewalk if there were any famous people in it. He said, “Do you know Sylvester Stallone?” I explained that although I did not know him personally, I was indeed familiar with his work. Surprisingly, there is more on the way. (Today, though, it was Jason Statham on a Ducati…) When I finally made it to the Marigny, the bike shop was closed, so I just continued down Frenchman to Galvez and then took a right. I haven’t spent much time biking around the 7th ward. It is so different from the Marigny-side of St. Claude. And by different, I mean decimated. Flood lines aren’t visible on buildings, but you can still see them as you travel through neighborhoods. This part of town feels so empty, though the occasional porch hosts large groups of folks who clearly still call this place home. I stopped to snap this picture of the Oliver train station at Galvez and St. Ferdinand. It looks like a train graveyard, but it’s not–these trains were moving ever-so slowly down the tracks. This is, after all, one of the busiest ports in the country, and stuff still goes by train. The place might look broken down and beyond recovery, but that just depends on how you look at it, and what you choose to see.

Rhoda’s got a flat and I need a wrench to free her wheel, so Jack and I went looking for a hardware store.  I headed down to the bike shop ISO tools and maybe a present or two; A. is in the market for a bike, so I rang her up and told her to meet me there for some test riding.  As I rode in to the CBD, I noticed all these tanks and military vehicles parked around the National World War II museum on Magazine, along with people dressed as soldiers showing folks around.  The display was commemorating the 65th anniversary of the invasion of Normandy.  I was struck by the sight because this town has certainly seen its share of military vehicles in the street.  I remember after we all came back from the Gustav evacuations; there were military vehicles and National Guard soldiers all over, especially in the CBD.  But that didn’t feel welcoming, or like a day at the museum, or an educational program.  That felt like being in a police state.  Yep, context matters.  Today it was a family-friendly affair, a chance for people to learn and remember, but usually when the tanks roll in, it’s a sign of complex layers of state and state-sanctioned violence.  I wonder how these two very different appearances of tanks are related, because they most surely are.

I took Jack to the bike shoppe today for her first check up–she’s growing up so fast!  On my walk to the coffee shop to wait for Jack’s return I snapped a picture of this wall that clearly used to advertise all kinds of things, but has recently been cleaned off.  The thing is covered with staples and old bits of paper.  Many, many events have clearly been promoted here, and I’m guessing it won’t be too terribly long before it’s covered again.  It got me thinking about public space and who can post what where.  Where I work, for example, any sign must be approved by somebody in an office, each one individually stamped.  Sure, you can put up unapproved signs, but they’ll be taken down quickly.  Probably.  In most coffee shops around town signs need to be approved, though I’m not at all sure how if they notice or care what folks post.  I often see people plastering phone and light poles with signs, so I guess that’s not considered graffiti.  Or if it is, maybe the city just doesn’t care or have the resources to scrub the poles.  Lord knows there are bigger problems in New Orleans than excessive signage.  Of course, if you’ve got the money, you can buy whatever space you want and say pretty much anything.  But this particular space doesn’t seem to be for sale, and I like it that way.  I just hope somebody fills it soon–I want to know who’s playing where, and somebody please cover up that hole.

I got up this morning with a gleam in my eye. Because today, my dear friend K., picked up her new bike. And she wanted to spend the day riding all over town, stretching her legs and her new chain. Well, I’m certainly up for using my sunny Saturday afternoon like that, so I met her at the bike shop in the Quarter. We then rode through the Marigny to the Bywater, where I had a quick brunch while K. zipped around. Then we hopped on the St. Claude bike lane over through Mid-City and along Bayou St. John, and then back through Broadmoor to Uptown for yet another New Orleans festival. Lovely. I stopped to snap this picture of an abandoned Albertson’s grocery store at Jeff and Tulane Avenue. Like many buildings in town, this one feels almost ghostly, as if one day the life just disappeared. And I guess that’s sort of what happened. I stopped to take this photo, though, because it was so strange to see an Albertson’s in this context. I’m from Boise, Idaho, home of the very first Albertson’s. That was my grocery store for my entire childhood. I remember when the tore that first one down. And rebuilt it on the other side of the parking lot. But I didn’t think the store made it all the way down here! But it’s closed now, just like many of the Albertson’s stores in the west, sold to Key Foods, I think. What do we do with the stuff–the buildings, the gas pumps, the land covered over with concrete–when things change and the stuff isn’t needed anymore? I want more gardens.

Today was positive beautiful, sunny and warm, but not too warm, and I decided to make today the day to take the plunge and get myself a road bike. Don’t get me wrong–Rhoda is wonderful. She is big and heavy and a clunker for these pitted New Orleans roads. And even more, she’s fashionable, what with her pink frame covered with stickers and her Christmas lights and handy basket on the front. But riding her as much as I do has made me want to ride more, faster, farther. And for that I need something else: a road bike. I decided to go with a steel touring bike that I have a feeling will last me a really, really long time. I felt anxious heading in to the bike shop, especially because I still feel like such a newcomer to this whole bike riding thing. But I know what I want, and it is to take this blog on the road. I snapped this picture of Bicycle Michael’s as I left. I love this shop. It is on Frenchman Street with the music clubs and cafes and bookstores and tattoo parlors. You’d never know walking by how much bike knowledge was stocked in that place. But the people are mad friendly. And three of them ride the bike I’ll be getting by next weekend. I have a feeling I’ll be spending a lot of time in this shop. Sweet!