This Day

All the junk that fits.

On a day like this one. Back in 1953. At 10pm. I made my appearance. Here I am in 2020, one of the worst years in at least a century, still going.

I’ve pretty much lost any sense of time. The calendar means very little. Clocks keep turning. The only sense of time that I seem to have is what occurs in nature.

Nature never slips up. She knows what she is doing. Even during the worst catastrophes, she knows. Fires, floods, hurricanes, and now a pandemic. She knows. She’s telling us. Mend your ways. Don’t make me come up there and destroy your home.

She will. Just to get rid of whatever annoys her. She doesn’t care. She seeks stasis.

Into the beginning of this current world I was born. In 1953. On today’s date. I guess that I have some sense of time. Or, Facebook told me. I could have sworn that I removed my birthday from my personal information. But, Facebook knows. So does Google. Ans, Amazon.


We could have a discussion of privacy. But, I don’t feel like it.

You know why.

Broken stuff city. I could be talking about New Orleans in general. But, I’m not. I’m not working that broadly.

I’m just talking about a truck that I saw loaded with broken bikes and parts.

It’s in my nature. I’m drawn to these things.

I let my inner self make this picture. Then, I tinkered with it.

WordPress helped by compressing it to the point where it has no highlights. I really wish all these digital companies would turn off the AI. You’d be amazed at some of the words I don’t type. That I fix when I edit the stories.


Enjoy the junk

Stay safe. Wear your mask. Wash your hands. Look after each other. Enjoy all the cake.

And, Then There Was…

One moment of many.

… This Day. What a day.

Louis Armstrong’s birthday second line is a wonder to behold. Just about every cultural group sends somebody to represent them.

This is one of the rare occasions that you can see social and benevolent societies, brass bands, Mardi Gras Indians, Mardi Queens, a couple of Baby Doll krewes, a Catholic priest or two and a Japanese jazz musician who came from his homeland to play at The Satchmo Summer Fest and walk on our old streets… all at one time. In one place.

It was good. It was colorful. And, it was hot. And humid.  By the time I was done and home, my clothes were not a little moist. They were as wet as if I had stood in a rain storm. Even that felt good. That kind of sweat sort of makes me peaceful. Besides, that’s what washing machines, dryers and showers are for.

So, here’s the deal.

I’ll start with this picture of Mardi Gras Indian Queen Mirlene. That’s just for today. Over the course of the next couple of days, I’ll publish little portfolios of what I saw.

There are two reasons for this.

I’m tired. And, peaceful.

Once again technology is not my friend. Actually, it’s the latest upgrade of OnOne that’s not my friend. I’m pretty convinced that it is designed for the advanced hobbyist photographer who takes a bunch of pictures, develops a couple of them and works on them one at a time.

It isn’t for someone like me who needs to cull, develop, process maybe 50 or so large file images and do all the work of sizing, converting from one file to another and so on. My RAW files are 96 gigs. That’s not the biggest. But, big enough.

I know when I call the tech folks at OnOne tomorrow, they are going to disagree and suggest my computer is underpowered.


Near as I can tell, the only photo/design software that is built for industrial use is an Adobe product. Like Photoshop. Or, Lightroom.

I had a good take. I won’t be denied.

Satchmo Second Line (Number Two)

The Treme Brass Band
The Treme Brass Band

Golden Teeth
Golden Teeth

Satchmo Second Line dancers.
Satchmo Second Line dancers.

It was hot, so the umbrellas came out.
It was hot, so the umbrellas came out.

After a long walk the Treme  Brass Band looked tired and hot but still had a long way to go.
After a long walk the Treme Brass Band looked tired and hot but still had a long way to go.

Well. I promised, didn’t I? Here is part two from the Satchmo second line parade.  Just a few details to note… it appears that from looking at newer members of The Treme Brass Band, they are switching from captain’s hats to baseball caps. Whoops. There goes another tradition.

Then, there’s the woman with her gold teeth. That may look strange to people who are not from New Orleans. But, it’s common around here. What isn’t common — on women, at least — is her teardrop tattoo. See it? It’s up there by her eye. That’s usually a jailhouse bit of ink. I hate to say it, but it means “I killed somebody.”

See the woman in the blue and white outfit? She’s trying so hard not to smile for me. You know why? We know each other. Kind of. We’ve shared a stoop when I  need slightly higher ground to make a picture. We stood on a low balcony, and she hung on to my arm so I could lean out to make a picture. She calls me “baby” and “honey” in that southern way. But, until Sunday, I had never made a picture of her.

Finally, The Treme Brass Band looking so hot and so tired. They were only about two-thirds of the way through the parade at that point. How hot was it? Well, ground temperature was about 97 degrees. Combined with the humidity, there was a heat index of around 106 degrees at parade time. This high heat cycle isn’t going to break anytime soon. The last time this happened was August 2005. You know what happened that year. On August 29th.

That’s all I have. For now.

From the Musical Side.

Yesterday, I posted about a post-Isaac birthday party that I was lucky to attend. I showed you a look at the “subject of honor.” Today, I thought that I would give you a look at a couple of the musicians.

More Stories To Tell

Well. The winds blew and the rains fell and blew and fell and blew and fell. For 60 hours. Then the power went out. For six days. But, I’m lucky. I’m told. Some people in New Orleans won’t get their power restored for another week. No power equalled no blogging. As Neil Young once wrote , “Keep on blogging ’till the power goes out.” Well…

Anyway. It got hot. Real hot. Mind bending hot. A friend of mine came to the rescue. I stayed at her parents house. They had power. They live two and a half miles from me. I dunno. On the last day I stayed with them, their neighbors had a surprise mariachi birthday party for a birthday girl. They invited me. I took full advantage of that. I was tired of photographing storm-related stuff. So, I photographed this little neighborhood party. I must had a lot of pent-up something. I photographed as well as I ever have. I shot a 8 gig card. About 480 pictures. My first selection was 134 pictures. Normally for something like that, it’s around 20 or 30 pictures. This time, I have at least 10 portfolio candidates. I’m still amazed. I am never THAT productive. Or even close.

So. Here’s the picture. It’s the birthday girl and her dad. She’s wiping away tears of joy after she saw her big surprise. The mariachi band.