Just wow.

Glen and I returned to Molly’s Rise and Shine for breakfast this morning. It’s a ways out Magazine toward the Garden District in a nice little neighborhood. It’s a definite Uber ride for us to get there. Glen loves their biscuits and gravy; I love their fried chicken biscuit sandwich. Whew. Today it was spicy.

Our outgoing Uber driver was talkative and interesting. He’s from Florida and retired from the Navy. (Another side-hustler.) BUT OUR RETURN UBER DRIVER WAS A STORY UNTO ITSELF!

We get into the small Nissan Versa and before we were half a block away, our middle-aged driver said that he had just “met his daughter”. Hmm…He told us that his wife had died and a year later he spent a short time with a woman. They both agreed to go their separate ways. What he didn’t know was that she was pregnant.

So wiping his eyes, he continued to tell us that this morning, he had picked up a female rider before us. As she got in the back seat of his car, she said that he looked familiar and he replied that she looked familiar, too. Somehow they sorted out that she was his daughter. Her mother had died in childbirth and she was raised by her two aunties. It turns out that her mother was the woman he had had a short relationship with so many years ago. He never knew that the woman was pregnant or that she had died. He definitely never knew that he was a father for a second time. (He has a daughter by his deceased wife.)

We traveled through the streets of New Orleans listening to this man pour out his heart. He told us that they had hugged, exchanged contact information and promised to get together to talk more. He repeatedly told us that he told her if there was “ever anything he could do for her…just let him know”. Imagine starting your work day like that!

As we continued our drive home, he kept talking and told us that he was thinking of quitting his other job (Uber is a side-hustle for him) and as we neared our house, he said that he had just needed to “tell somebody” his news…and there we were on the corner of Magazine and First just waiting to listen. Glen shared that we have learned so much about New Orleans and its people by meeting our Uber drivers and he told us that he never came to “this side of the river” until he started driving. He loves it. He says the people are beautiful and different. He called it “diversity of love”.

We felt honored to be the recipient of his emotional news and though we likely won’t run into him again, we will always hold a place for him and his two daughters in our hearts.

Diversity of love. Carry it forward.

GAT = THAT DOESN’T HAPPEN EVERY DAY!!

With my new tendency in hand, I headed out for a wander. My body resisted.

Yesterday, we went to Preservation Hall. The iconic site of music we had never enjoyed. It was quite hot and humid, the dog days of summer are approaching. And I had an “extended” episode. I love this term; it is one used by my Grandma to describe a wide variety of occurrences, usually by family members. While these episodes are almost always uncomfortable (the real definition of an episode) for all parties involved. Mine was both quite predictable, yet completely unexpected. I regularly experience significant neck / back pain and brief dizziness. These are the intersection of two things; massive radiation in the head and neck area (cancer treatment) along with Orthostatic Hypotension (OH). I’ve had OH since my earliest recollection of my early teens. I’ve learned this Autonomic condition was exacerbated by the chemo (cancer treatment) administered. CANCER – THE GIFT THAT KEEPS GIVING!

As I headed out my body was off. A bit of neck and back pain, yet no dizziness. I trudged outward. Thoughts come streaming into my head during most recent wanders. Not this AM. Nothing was going to be easy. Progress for me in this area is not forcing it, just letting it come. It almost always does. AND this AM, that process tendency revised, it came in spades!

I love, admire and am a bit envious about the way JDT experiences our adventures and documents, quite beautifully, in a way that brings me by her side. I started thinking about yesterday and the extended episode. Again, my normal tendency would be to think about it in a scarce way. Nope, not choosing to do that. How could I do it differently? My mind shifted to Joan (no, not Jane!) Didion. Huh. I have written of my recent “crush” on Joan and her writings. Included in the Netflix “documentary” on Joan is a conversation suggests that she uses her writings as a form of self therapy. Of self improvement. CATHARSIS!

I wandered in the direction of Louis Armstrong Park. My new found tendency is to walk as NOLA is waking. This seems to help avoid those pesky episodes. AND it really feels like NOLA mostly wakes hungover from its perpetual party. Mostly LAP isn’t open yet. Its many gates are chained and locked tighter than a drum. Going “inside” to the comfort of its “embrace” mostly isn’t an option. This morning LAP was open earlier than usual. I resisted the comforting embrace and stayed outside.

My role at TYS (the baby I birthed) has evolved to include the opportunity to coach members of its emerging leadership team. I am really loving our interactions. I’ve always believed one attribute that made me different (boy did I value being different) was my willingness, or even need, to learn to be comfortable with being uncomfortable. This attribute was a key element of my professional evolution. I have always had a low sensitivity to safety. THANK YOU MOM! I have just never valued safety. While my early coaching charged into the comfortable with being uncomfortable charge with little regard for safety, I’ve learned its value. THANK YOU TIM SHORTSLEEVE!! Today I coach differently. I honor the value of safety. I use a four step process that seems to be quite effective. Think of teaching a child to cross a busy intersection. The very initial efforts literally involve holding their hand. The final stage is to watch from a distance as they CONFIDENTLY cross themselves. VENN DIAGRAM!

So, I think (perhaps too much?!?) about my posts. I think about – What is my greatest hope? What is my aspiration? WHAT IS MY DREAM? I spent most of my life literally fearful of exploring the unknown recesses of my mind. I worried about what I would find. I once said to Dr. Czezak, “will I like myself when I get there?” She explained, there is no “there”, there is only journey. Hmmm? I rarely felt safe on this journey. Dr. Czezak first held my hand . . . My dream is to share with you, in as vulnerable way as my courage allows, my journey. I do not have photos to share. I only have my words and my experiences.

I’LL DO MY BEST TO BE A GOOD COMPANION.

As we all know, Glen loves to take public transportation. He loves the process of “figuring it out” and I agree, there may be no better way to get a sense of the soul of a city. However, I think that there is an equally interesting research project out there to be had by studying Uber drivers. It’s an education!

Yesterday, I took a walking tour of Treme. I’ll likely write about what I learned later. The guide mentioned that throughout its history, the non-white inhabitants of New Orleans have always had a “side-hustle” in order to survive. Seems that most Uber drivers use this method of gaining income as their second income. And boy do they have stories to tell!

Here are a few stories from NOLA…

There was the crazy driver. I really didn’t feel safe in his car. He spent the entire drive looking at Glen in the back seat. He kept stopping at stop signs and would not get started again until he had finished his topic. Mostly he was telling us about how messed up the City government is in NOLA. He definitely told us that during Katrina, the levies were intentionally broken to save the garden district at the expense of the 9th Ward and other neighborhoods.

Then there’s the driver who was such a large man driving his mega truck (4 door) with his seat was pushed so far back and reclined to such a degree that anyone 1/2″ taller than me wouldn’t be able to get in the seat. He lives 80 miles away and his wife works in banking in NOLA. He drives her into the city every day and then stays to drive for Uber. They are both retired military. He told us the story of how he retired from his second or third career and then started driving for Uber.

He loves fishing and he and his buddies like to go fishing on the lakes for nice long days. But there was that one time when the day got away from him (likely he was hooking too many fish) and he was late to pick up his wife from work…It was his last day fishing. Can’t you just hear the conversation?

His wife still wanted him to stay busy so she “gave” him the Uber app. He resisted because he really didn’t want to work anymore and he was mad about the end of his weekday fishing trips. When he finally listened to her and started driving, he realized that he could make $3000 a week and he was hooked…just wasn’t hooking any fish!

There’s the young driver whose car was so dirty that Glen didn’t leave a tip (for the first time ever).

There’s the guy who took us to The Turkey and the Wolf (best fried bologna sandwich EVER…can’t wait to go back!) who talked endlessly about sports with Glen. There was a pause in the conversation and I asked him, “Who is your favorite poet?”. That was a conversation stopper. Then he switched the topic and we learned about his four sons, their jobs, his grandkids, the one who lives at home because why would he move out when his mom does his laundry?

But my all time favorite was on a ride with Randy and Allison to the airport to pick up a rental car. I’ll just call her “Grandma Gone Wild”! She was HILARIOUS! She had been out the night before with her gaggle of friends and they had stayed out way too late “dancing till our knees hurt”. She said that she took a “shot at home and smoked a cigarette” to think through this night out. She told us about the famous “host” on Bourbon Street. Her name is “Concretia” (pronounced Con-cree-sha). She’s the woman who greets you at the beginning of the evening (or morning because it is Bourbon Street, after all) and plies you with shots until you meet her at the end of your foray with your face planted on the…concrete of Bourbon Street. Sounded like “Grandma Gone Wild” had met Concretia a few times.

I hope that this post doesn’t end here. I’m sure there is more to learn about the soul of New Orleans through its “side-hustlers”.

BELOW ADDED BY GAT!

First, a couple of general comments – Uber is much more predictable and safe. AND at my best I resist both and opt for the uber-unpredictable (clever?) and often uncomfortable (unsafe? not really) world of public transport. When I am picked up by someone like me, I mostly go quiet or go to info gathering mode. When picked up by someone different than me, I go to questions targeted at experiences. I so enjoy gaining their perspective.

Now, to specifics –

Unsafe Dude (UD) – nope. He knew what he was doing. Was he distracted? Yep. Did my “low-safety” self feel unsafe? Nope. And UD did ultimately spout comments that even caused me unease, the early part of our discussion was really insightful. We went through Treme and he told us his take on the neighborhood. He also shared with us a history lesson or two of Jazz Fest. While the ride was “memorable” . . .

James – he of the largeness that provided JDT minimal back seat space. Factually I do not have anything to add. Context? A bit. This was a return ride from lunch on Friday that was in Mid City. It was a stark contrast to our outbound ride (more below). I am the keeper of UBER in our relationship. So, among other things, I get some Uber information on the driver. First name, car make and license number, route to get there, Uber rating, etc. It also gives the number of Uber trips (this is the contrast with below). James was 7,099. That, in my experience is quite a lot. So, shortly after identifying ourselves (an Uber thing), I quipped – James, you’ve given 7,099 Uber rides. (JDT said, you mean we are number 8,000? Just another reminder JDT’s brain works so wonderfully different than mine.) I love it when these opening quips “work”. They led to us learning an OG’s (likely our age) experience (how less in common could we share?) in the gig economy (my speculation is JDT is not familiar with the economic term for “side hustle” – BTW “side hustle” is generationally better for me). JDT’s omission for me was the whole discussion of “Wifey”. I use this term guardedly. Another generational term that James used as part of the self-identification / introductions – “Hello Glen; hello “Wifey”. And while we have very little in common with James and Wifey, I don’t sense it is nil. Wifey, it seems, continues to work while they have financial independence. You say, huh. How do I know this? James spent 30+ years in the military; Wifey 25+. And wifey has been working her current career (bank leadership) for 10+ years. Financial independence? Certainly! I wish Wifey were on the ride with us. I just know she would teach me ABOUT THE STRUGGLE!

Gregory – he of the outbound Uber ride. (How do I get these names? They are part of my Uber history). I believe we may have been one of Gregory’s first 100 rides. Gregory was also a part of the gig economy. He had a talk station on his radio. I noted early in our ride that it had a “business” sense to it. A local discussion of the side hustle. AND this was so generationally appropriate. AND THE MORE THINGS CHANGE, THE MORE THEY STAY THE SAME. While quite comfortable with James (we are two OGs), I’m not as comfortable with young black men like Gregory. Frankly, I don’t trust myself to not to say something completely offensive. It wouldn’t be intentional. It would however still be real and come from something perhaps worse – the stark contrast in our experiences with privilege. And it is incredibly comforting to see a culture that nourishes its young ambitious constituents.

Kerry – local college and high school basketball referee. Do you get a sense that sports are, at a minimum, a support culture to the primary cultures of music, food, etc. in NOLA? It is one of my attractions to the South. Kerry taught me about the looming unresolved conflict in LA in sports between the public and private (mostly Catholic) schools. The system is but one further piece of evidence of the growing divide created by outdated and thoroughly TIRED government and economic policies.

It is wonderful to discover treasures in unexpected places.

I’ve been mulling over this post for a few days. And I’m still not exactly sure what I want to say. So I should just dive in…

Last year while in Brooklyn, I’m pretty sure I wrote about the importance of relationships in my life. In many ways…relationships are the most important thing that we have. During times of trouble, illness, sadness, and happiness, I’ve found great comfort, support, and joy as I was “wrapped” in the arms of people who are important to me and who helped carry me through the challenges and who cheered with me during celebrations.

As I entered retirement, I remember thinking that I’d have to be more proactive in creating and maintaining relationships as I wouldn’t have the obvious daily interaction with people. Also, remember when you had young kids at home and our lives centered around their lives? Many of our friends came from the sidelines of the soccer field and basketball court. We spent hours with other parents cheering for our kids and many of my friendships were forged during those years. Sadly, that courtside friendship-creating ship sailed a long time ago.

As an educator, I always felt that my first job was to create positive relationships with my colleagues, with students and their families. I enjoyed that aspect of the work and I think that I was mostly successful. I have many friends who came from my work family and many of us stay in touch regularly though we rarely see each other in person.

And then retirement…and even more drastically…the opportunity to spend months away from all those important people (don’t even talk about a pandemic and how it affected relationships). My thought was…how will I maintain these relationships and create new ones in these new, temporary settings? Without elaboration, I’ll just say that it was easier in Brooklyn than it has been here. Glen alluded to it when he talked about “polite vs friendly”.

I can feel that this post is rambling and will drivel into nothingness so let me get to the point. One way that we’ve stayed connected while we travel is by having visitors. I wrote last fall about the renewed connection we had made with my “long lost) Los Gatos cousins. We met up with a couple of them and their wives when we were in Brooklyn. We had a blast and said that we looked forward to our next meet up.

Well, last week Randy and Allison were in NOLA for the second weekend of Jazz Fest. (They were with a group of friends going all the way back to Randy’s Chico days. Another example of where we create relationships.) They stayed with us for a couple nights and we had a blast again! But what I really want to say is that you know that experience where you meet someone and you just feel like you’ve known them all your life? That’s the connection I felt with Allison. While we’ve met a couple times and I’ve always enjoyed her company, it was just awesome to spend more time with her and get to know her better. And the really weird-not-weird thing is that we found that we had SO MANY things in common – from our childhoods in LA, to loving American Idol, to not considering ourselves caretakers, to the same iPad case, to our values, our interests (e.g. books), our need to go, go, go, FOMO, etc. etc. etc. Seriously. It feels like she’s my long-lost sister. (No offense, Chris!)

AND we both love the Dubs! Now I love them in a casual sports fanatic way (I know that’s an oxymoron) and I believe Allison does, too. The last night they were here was Game 4 and that was a nail biter. Our internet was problematic and we kept sitting there waiting for it to reboot…beyond frustrating. Nevertheless, we won (the internet and the game) and we enjoyed watching it together. Then came Game 5 after they had returned to the Bay and we shared a couple WTH? texts during the game…and then last night! I think “torture” was the word…until it wasn’t! Turns out Randy and Allison were watching the game a bit behind live action and had to ask me to kindly stop text-reacting! I went to bed and woke up to their joyful reaction! Something like “We did it!” and “Phfwew!” How fun to have this new connection.

So back to there time here in NOLA with us…I’m happy to say that when Glen and I were describing our upcoming summer/fall trip to Randy and Allison, she said, “We’ll be in New York when you’re there!” We all agreed that that will be our next meet up! Allison also kiddingly said that wherever we were going next is now where they’ll go so they can follow us! I can only hope so!

Here’s to sisterhood and relationships and connections!

PS Randy and Allison are WAY more traveled than us so we should really be following them!

PPS I can’t believe we didn’t take one picture of the two/four of us. Darn it!

I know many of you are sports fans, while at least a few are repulsed by the very notion of sports (BTW, I distinguish between sport and sports – thank you Dr. Harry Edwards). My post this beautiful May NOLA morning is intended to question not state. So, here goes.

My earliest sports memory is a San Francisco Giants game I believe to be Saturday, August 24, 1963. I was 5. I really don’t recall who else attended in our group. I am almost certain Dad took us – he always did. I do know it was against the Reds and on the field that day I was incredibly fortunate to see six, YES six future Hall of Famers (Willie Mays, Willie McCovey, Frank Robinson, Orlando Cepeda, Gaylord Perry (SP) AND Pete Rose). AND there were many other notable players (Harvey Kuehn, Vada Pinson, Jose Pagan, Leo Cardenas to name but four). Did Dad know? It is but one of the many questions that replays in my head of conversations lost with Dad.

I’ve posted prior about my love of all things Oakland. Yes, it comes warts and all. AND not despite them, but largely because of them. I see myself in Oakland; I see Oakland in me. This love of all things sports Oakland was solidified in the early 70s. Oakland was, in my mind, the first City of Champions. The A’s, Raiders and Warriors (Dubs) ALL won “world” championships. Look it up!

My earliest Dubs memory was of a Dub named Lee. David Lee? No! Clyde Lee. Drafted in 1966 out of Vanderbilt he was mostly a journeyman NBA player. Unfortunately for Clyde, he was traded before the Dubs won their first championship in Oakland. So, why Clyde Lee? I’m reasonably certain it wasn’t a conscious decision on my part. After all, as kids, we just like who we like. I think now it was his journeyman status, his immense hustle, his very struggle to carve out an existence. AND I really don’t think this is revisionist history?!?

I love the intersection of things. I love the concept of the Venn Diagram and when things nearly virtually overlay on each other . . . NEARLY. Yes, sports stars in todays world (didn’t used to – OG!) in many ways live a life I couldn’t imagine. Yet! The rational and analytic side of me loves data, loves statistics, loves the predictability over a large sample size. I’ve made a career of this. Hell, I could argue I have made a life out of this simple concept. The emotional side of me is a fan. AND HERE IS WHERE THE CHALLENGE AND STRUGGLE LIES.

Last night I went to bed to read and fall asleep before the end of the first quarter of what ended up being the Dubs series clinching game 6 victory. Yes, I did miss the sheer joy of the W (get the Dub thing?). Yes, I did miss the phenomenon that is Game 6 Klay. Yes, I did miss Draymond being Draymond, Steph being Steph AND Looney being Hakeem the Dream! Why? Struggle! Struggle? My rational side was completely disconnected from my emotional side. To the point where I become quite challenging to be around . . . EVEN FOR ME! I just haven’t grown (or matured?) enough.

So, the title of this post? I would complete it this way . . an Amazingly Wonderful Performance Wrapped By Incredible Frustration. He is the poster child for the 2021-2022 Dubs. I hope to be able to open the Dub present – live.

THE STRUGGLE (LIFE’S ESSENCE?) CONTINUES!!

First, I want to commend Glen for his new “tendency” to go out and WANDER in the morning! My wanders often bring me the greatest joy of my day because…you just never know what you will find along the way. So below you will find some photos from today. I set out to Bywater Bakery to pick up some morning bagels (only on Fridays) and pastries. You may remember Saraghina Bakery in Brooklyn. It was a short 3 block walk and so I made that trip frequently. Bywater Bakery is a full 1.5 miles away and it’s hot and muggy even at 8:30 am so it’s a bit more of a trek…but worth it in so many ways! Happy Friday! Enjoy!

I woke up in the 5 AM hour this morning. Quite normal, actually progress. I discovered I was out of half & half. A requirement for me – mostly my stomach. I went to the couch, and this wasn’t going to work. I can’t recall the last time I didn’t have a caffeine “fix” within 20 minutes of waking. I tried to listen to my body – it was not buying into this new phenomenon. We have a 24/7 “corner market” – Verte Marte (I’m really hoping JDT will blog on them as she has a wonderful story to tell). I recall getting half & half there the Sunday late afternoon we arrived. It was one of the two requirements to supplement our bringings – the other being ice. Threw on my gym shorts and sneakers and after 20 minutes more was enjoying my fix.

The above threw off my routine. Normally, I would use this “reason” to sink into the couch and “sink” into my day. NO! I was 100% prepared (at least other than mentally) to have my third straight day of my morning wandering. I was calling them walks. I like the wandering term better. And following my current strive to break tendencies, I headed left this time. You see, the first two were to the right. And while right was new for the first, it was now becoming a tendency with the third. Blah, blah, blah!

I really fought the urge to return to the couch. I pushed “out”. The conversation in my head (yes, at least two protagonists) debated and agreed I’d wander out for ten minutes, then wander back. Fighting the good fight (need for the familiar v. the desire for the new) along the way I found myself on the corner of Dauphine & Frenchman. Yes, that Frenchman of the famous music street in NOLA (We are located some 6 or 7 blocks away). I enjoy seeing construction in my wanderings. I think they mostly represent positive change for me – especially commercial construction. I’m drawn to it. At the corner of Dauphine & Frenchman is a remodel (everything here is a remodel – a special kind of progress). I stopped and read the signs on the front door and gazed inside. It’s going to be a new coffee shop. The signs told of what to do with deliveries, the employment opportunities, etc. It communicated to me a welcomingness. I noted a door open a bit further up the building. Me being me, I stuck my head inside and gave a hearty “morning y’all”. A young woman appeared with the most welcoming smile. I asked a few questions and I was back on my way.

Yesterday I made a short post with a simple title and image. When I look at the image, at best it raises in me a sadness about lost opportunity and at worst rage. THIS IS NOT WHO WE ARE, YET IT IS WHAT WE HAVE BECOME!

Very shortly after the new business discovery I came upon the location where I took the above photo. RE-SET GLEN! And the thing I really love most about this? It is not “completely” welcoming. It is nuanced. It is complicated. AND it represents to me NOLA’s version of welcoming.

I would have 0% of these last few days experiences (borderline adventures) without JDT’s influence. Good? Bad? Yes to both, and fully emotive. JDT has written quite beautifully (she’s a liberal arts “person” while I am but a simple accountant after all) about our vast differences. While I work very hard at being direct or intentional, JDT’s personality is different. I struggle with simple leading by example. JDT excels. I fully believe my body listened to JDT before it spoke to me. So, are the differences good? Bad? Neither really for me. Magic. Yes! One only knows how much “stuff” the vast differences create. Yet, when I get out of my own head, magic occurs.

18 more glorious days!

PROGRESS!

I promised to share photos of the rest of my morning yesterday. I don’t usually add lots of captions, but here the captions tell the story. Here you go…

And I’m still pondering if I’m going to tell that embarrassing story…