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.

The weather reports promised thunderstorms today, but the sun was out, and despite a late night, I was up for another bike ride.  I rode down to the Quarter to see the crowds out for French Quarter Fest and hear a bit of music.  I, like lots of folks, can’t really afford Jazz Fest, so I really appreciate this free party.  I snapped this picture of the many people crowding in to Jackson Square, with the church and the Cabildo in the background.  Isn’t it beautiful?  It was incredibly sunny, so this photo really doesn’t do justice to the blue, blue sky.  I mean, it was ridiculous out there today.  The sun was warm, but not hot, the air was wet, but not soggy, and the people were tipsy, but not terrifically drunk.  Well, at least not the ones I saw inside the gates (Bourbon Street was another story…).  Inside were food booths, beer (I ponied up for one), and, of course, music.  I love the music in this place, and listening to it outside with a beer and dancing with a bunch of strangers…it doesn’t get much better than that.  After I took this picture I walked down the steps in front of the brass band playing below and played pedestrian Frogger across Decatur.  Cars were getting increasingly frustrated and agitated as people kept darting out.  Drunk folks aren’t the safest street-crossers, you see.  I was happy, as per usual, to have my bike with me.  I didn’t have to walk from the streetcar.  I didn’t have to sit in my car on Decatur, avoiding crazy death-seeking pedestrians, and I didn’t have to find a parking place.  Yep, still more points for the bike.  And it’s festival season–I’ll be enjoying the benefits of living here and riding my bikes for months.  Yeah, good times, very good times.

The weather predictors promised thunderstorms this afternoon and evening, but fortunately, upon checking the radar, I saw that I had a window of opportunity for a nice bike ride this evening.  The rain is pouring down as I write this, but it was warm and muggy and perfect when I headed out.  I took Jack, and went clipless, because I’ve got to get over the little niggling fear I have of being stuck to my bike.  I decided to ride down through the Quarter and over toward Bacchanal, a lovely wine spot in the Bywater, just to see what’s up with them.  They’re serving sandwiches now, all day, so I’ll have to add it back into my afternoon repertoire.  On my way there, though, I smelled coffee in the air, and noticed the PJ’s Coffee bean roasting place in this warehouse on Chartres, right after the join with N. Peters.  I’d smelled a lot of smells on my way to the Marigny.  It smelled like sewage where Constance met the Ponchartrain Expressway.  It smelled like garbage at Esplanade and N. Peters.  Oh–I almost forgot the urine smell on Decatur.  I’m used to the parts of the city that smell bad.  I lived in New York for years–I’m used to bad smells.  But I loved the good smell of this spot and stopped to smell and snap a picture.  The sky looked amazing with streaks of light coming through heavy clouds, and the train stopped on the levee looked like it was sweating, sitting there in the heavy air.  A beautiful late afternoon for a ride, totally worth all the smells.

Last night’s storms were crazy.  The sky was bright with lightening and the rain just poured down, coming dangerously close to my door.  I watched the storm, and storm coverage, and finally went to sleep.  So when I was invited out and about tonight, I was frankly a little bit nervous, since the weather reports promised similar storms tonight.  I finally decided to head out on the bike with an extra pair of shoes and raincoat.  I mean, I can get wet, and my bike has certainly seen its share of showers.  When I hit the Quarter, I was surprised by the darkness.  There was an underground fire at Iberville and Bourbon this afternoon, and power was out aon the Canal side of the Quarter.  It was eerie, seeing these streets usually so alive with light rendered dark.  People in fancy dress were walking up and down the streets, lit only by headlights.  I snapped this picture on my way home, at Decatur and Iberville.  The street was blocked by the fire truck putting off all this light, the only light on the street.  A car was going backwards up the street, clearly not seeing me on my bicycle.  Without light, I felt invisible.  I like that feeling, but tonight I felt a little unsafe.  It was just strange to be in the dark, even though it’s the light that’s artificial.  I hope the power’s back on soon, but tonight I enjoyed the quiet darkness of the usually busy streets.

It’s St. Patrick’s Day weekend here in New Orleans, and folks are already wearing green.  Tonight’s parade–which I missed in favor of a concert–took place here, at Molly’s On the Market on Decatur.  I saw people painting this flag and shamrock on the sidewalk a couple days ago, and already it looks like more than a parade has walked all over it.  It’s amazing how quickly a drunken crowd can take down some sidewalk art.  But I like that this town decorates.  For everything.  Even the sidewalks.  My bike ride tonight took me from Uptown, through the CBD and the Treme, over to Bayou St. John, and then back through the French Quarter.  It’s one of those rides where you really get to see how neighborhoods are organized and where home values are highest and lowest and the effects of these values on things like street and sidewalk quality, number of trees, streetlights, etc.  This part of the ride felt almost fake, with the highly orchestrated sense of celebration weaving its way through the Quarter.  But sometimes that orchestrated show is fun.  Tonight, though, I just wanted to fly on my bike through the cool air.  There’ll be more fun tomorrow–that’s right, there’s another parade.