Words That Follow A Random Inspiration

Paula writes about search terms, i.e. the obscure means by which unknown people find her blog. I've forgotten how to find those. Something to do with Sitemeter? OK, I remember. Except when I look on Sitemeter I don't see any references under Referrals to searches. Mostly a bunch of "unknown" by someone coming in on rr.com. I have no idea who or why and am confused by the possibility it might somehow matter to me. And what is rr.com? Rolls-Royce? Oh, no, not at all, just a nationwide cable provider's mobile thingie, ok, whew, nothing sinister, move along.

This past weekend, from three thirty in the morning Friday to about nine thirty last night, was spent on a visit to New Orleans. It was the third trip for us. Every trip gets better. Every trip feels like a honeymoon. We love that city, and we love, needless to say, the company that accompanies us.

Photo by BR Studios and Designs

Somehow my clearest image right now is of Derwin "Big D" Perkins' happy face as he leans back and plays that clear blues guitar. D was perched on a stool at stage right in the Maple Leaf Bar and was about the size of a big happy guitar-playing Volkswagen.

Another is of the ground and its collection of smashed plastic cups and stomping feet as I concentrated on keeping my balance while David Guetta had ten thousand people rocking their asses off, including the fine specimen perched on my shoulders. The youngsters around us kept looking at me, this guy their father's age, many of whom were kind enough to say I was a bad-ass; and I am, because I have long hair and a fiercely handsome face and was jumping up and down with the best of them but I was the ONLY one to do so with a woman on my shoulders. It's all in the mind, folks. The mind, and a strong back, and perhaps a kind of determination that your average twenty two year old has not yet learned to dredge up.

Photo © 2014 BUKU NOLA LLC

Yeah, we were pretty much the oldest people at this year's Buku Festival and had a great time with it. I don't know why we were, though. Many of our friends, people our age, are into that kind of music. It probably had to do with combinations of New Orleans and Spring Break and Burning Man and how the latter just doesn't coincide with the former two much, if ever at all. When we went down there to see Beats Antique a couple years ago we were about the only people who dressed like people dress when they see Beats in San Francisco -- and were right at the stage, and were bad-asses again, and some tall guy in his twenties said he wanted to be like me when he was my age.

Quite the contrast to my brother, who's my age or close enough, and has dedicated himself to caretaking for his partner of nearly forty years, his partner who's now bedridden. They have a very nice place Uptown but neglect and distraction have rendered it a hoarder's paradise that they hardly ever leave, with bad air and detritus in every corner, and though we love them, we really can't stay very long. There's an air of illness and alcoholism to their brilliant worldliness; but I feel it's a stage that my brother has chosen, and when the time comes for a major change, I will take some time off and go down to help him transition to a healthier and ultimately happier life ... or at least I hope so.

All words are an inspiration to more words. This poast could have branched off into dozens of directions. But no, jut the one that suddenly ends here.