Last year my Mom and Dad and two of my brothers went to a fancy restaurant in New Orleans with a well known (but not celebrity) chef. While dining, in walks a famous chef and family and, of course, the owner of the fancy restaurant comes out to greet the famous chef.
So far so good with this story; it sounds like a minor local celebrity sighting, proving that you were eating in a well respected spot…but then it got odd.
My Dad says, “then I knew we were in for it.” And I ask, “what does that mean?” repeatedly. Finally it comes out, my Dad knows that fancy chef will comp famous chef and family’s meal.
OK, so what?
My Dad is convinced that to recoup the loss that fancy chef then spreads the cost of that meal to all other diners eating in the fancy restaurant that night. I said, “Weren’t there prices on the menu? Couldn’t you compare the items on the bill to be sure?” My father informed me that I was missing the point about how business is done.
I think my Dad is crazy.
I just finished an article about Jerusalem syndrome in Wired. It also mentioned two similar afflictions, Paris syndrome and Stendahl syndrome. Basically tourists become overwhelmed by the cities of Jerusalem or Paris or Florence and take a bit of a mental break.
It made me think that maybe tourists visiting New Orleans have a similar reaction. It would explain some of their behavior, certainly.
And maybe those of us who live here (either native born or transplant) are so inured to the crazy that we just don’t notice.
My fabulous birthday present from E.
Birthday King Cake!
Wonder what’s inside?!
Please note the McKenzie’s traditional sprinkle/cherry slice. Also, I will be partaking of this king cake a day early.
The birds, they’re up to something…
The racket was going on for a couple of minutes before I started recording and although the sharp noises are the birds knocking stuff out of the trees onto my roof. And then whoosh, they were done. And they haven’t been back.
Video shot with my phone (sorry about the quality) on 11/14/11 mid-morning.
I’m extra in love with New Orleans today. Sure the Saints kicked Bears butt. And that’s only as it should be. But last night, I had one of those bizarro world NOLA evenings that I can’t really imagine happening anywhere else.
I went to the Kajun Pub on St. Claude for karaoke, except the karaoke was delayed since Petronius (the oldest gay krewe) was having a fundraiser bake sale at the bar. The emcee for the event was a drag queen, of course. And between auction items there were lipsynch performances. I sampled a yummy cupcake, praline topped cookies, and even bought an apple pie. We enjoyed the apple pie during the game today and it was delish and not too sweet.
When the karaoke started it lurched from earnest/ironic singers of country to 60s R&B to hair metal to TV theme shows. Meanwhile the bar was populated with the last drag queen standing, random sketchy characters from the neighborhood, old drunks, hipsters, stylish folk, and me.
My city has the best random in the world.
It’s not just that NOLA is so completely interconnected…the rest of my world’s are converging too.
On vacation (grownup summer camp!) I met a couple from England…and, of course, I know one of their best friends (and godfather to one of their girls) because I served on a committee with him at work. My MiL knows the friend AND his father, naturally.
We also made best friends with seriously the cutest 6 year old boy EVER. Turns out, one of E’s friends is the substitute nanny for the family in Virginia.
AND one of the other couples were best friends with E’s aunt & uncle in Baton Rouge.
C’mon y’know we always suspected that Richard Simmons liked to drag it up…but dressed as Ann Landers?
Thanks Awful Library Books!