freebie

This story takes place in New Orleans. For those of you who haven’t been, New Orleans is a stunning stage play set in a different time. It feels much like getting lost in Europe, only slightly more velvet to the touch. Almost makes me wish I was born a half a century earlier - but then this is happening now and I am happening with it.. The word soul comes to mind. The streets whisper stories, pulsate with music, and every footfall plays into the rhythm of the city’s thumping heartbeat.

It was this that I was walking through on a chilly, but sunny Shabbat afternoon. I had not a penny in my pocket and my phone was locked safely in our hotel suite. There is no real way to describe the smells, sounds, and colors of a New Orleans street - so you’re just going to have to trust me until you get the chance to be there for yourself. It was something.

I passed a group of three poets pecking away at their typewriters. You know those ones who write you those little sonnets right on the spot? Morning birds catching dreams type thing. I stopped to watch the letters become words and words become meaning. Fingers to letter, ink to paper, tck tck tck. I thought of Vonnegut.

“You want a poem?”

“I just like watching - and I don’t have any money, but thank you.”
“I am writing you a poem.”

There was a flower in his pocket. His glasses were pink. His beard tickled the flower.

tck, tck, tck

He wrote this:

              freebie

every nown then
  cleanse the palette
      do something for no reason

   why you’re standing here
       why i followed a school bus
             1,000 miles with nothing
     for a muggy trial by fire

come stand, let us dissolve the
 rules of the game
      it’s all i can do         

         for basya  new orleans 12-30-117

He pulls the sheet out from the folds of it’s birthplace. He peels a carbon copy from it’s back. He opens a folder with a neat stack of many other poems born that day, he puts one copy in the folder. He reads the other aloud and hands it to me.

It was something.  




New Orleans was our last stop, but my first blog post in the Great American Road Trip (G.A.R.T.) series. Here are a few more photos of NOLA to convince you to head there and get dancing for yourself:






NOLA after dark: 













Our sweet hotel, French Quarter Suites (Nicest management ever - and private living rooms and kitchens if you're traveling with food like us. Thank-you, Peter!): 



Cemetery: 




Music Box Village: 



Out and Around: 






Waffles on Maple (Kosher and Cholov Yisroel!): 





The French Market: 












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