This is the last picture in this series. I think.
Yes. It’s that good old blue hour again. Trust me. You’d be bored with the picture if I took it at noon, or some time around there. In fact, I probably wouldn’t have taken it.
As far the French Quarter goes, I’m pretty sure that visitors get confused when the get to this corner. As they drive down the street they are looking at the cathedral and Jackson Square. But, the square is a walking plaza so they have to make a turn. A left turn.
Uh oh. Now what?
The trick is to get away from the heavily touristy area and park in a more residential area of the Quarter. Even then, be aware of the curbside parking signs, and drive ways, and if you park on a corner — stay 20 feet back from the corner. Usually, they are marked with yellow triangle. But, not always. Our traffic police seem to have radar or missile guidance systems something. If they find any car that is even close to breaking the rules, you’re in trouble. If you are lucky, you get a ticket. If you aren’t so lucky, you get the boot. Or, even worse, your car gets towed. You can go from free parking, to $25 to $270 to around $400 in a matter of minutes.
For most of my guests, if they insist on driving, I tell them just to pay for parking in a lot. I suggest that they don’t even use the meters on the street. Five minutes late and blammo. What I really suggest is they walk to the corner, catch the streetcar and ride it to the last stop on Canal Street, walk across the street and they are in the Quarter. It’s more fun — even for us who live here — and there are no parking issues.
Then there are the smart guys. The ones who hope you don’t notice. Here’s an example. One day I was walking back to my car. When I saw it. The bright orange envelope. What? I thought. I was parked legally, by just about every possible definition. I know the rules. Sheesh. Parking tickets are this city’s big source or revenue. Well, that and $7 billion dollars last year that y’all spent coming here. Luckily, I had the presence of mind to look at the ticket… Yep, the license plate numbers didn’t match. In fact, whoever stuck that envelope on my car was from Texas. It wasn’t for my car. I just threw the ticket away. If I hadn’t looked I might have paid it. The guy who stuck the ticket there would have gotten away with it. But, I didn’t pay it. Texas and Louisiana reciprocate on legal issues. Heh, heh, heh.
The picture. I guess I should say something about that. Kind of F8 and be there. Wait for the moment and hope. If you look closely, the little red SUV pointed at me is in the sharpest focus. That was a good target. The rest falls off just slightly as it should. I did open up the shadows some because I really like the contrasting red against the blue sky.