Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Shitty Endings and Blues Music....


St. Roch #1 is in a pretty shitty area of New Orleans - it is about two blocks down St. Roch Street, just off of Claiborne Street - deep in the heart of the part of New Orleans that was not very dry, not very sage, and not very happy during Katrina - but it is also where my real grandmother is buried - in one of those mystic New Orleans graveyards that have old Cajun and German and French names, where the Jewish and Catholic and Lutherans and Baptist all get interred above ground - only to have their bones crushed and compacted in a few years to add another one to the family tomb...my grandmother comes from the Heckmann line- there is not really too much about them in New Orleans history - a typical family, with a typical history, and some blood from Kenner to St. Bernard, and just about everywhere else.  I don't know much about this part of my life, except to say that she died when my Dad was five or six years old of Tuberculosis, if I remember correctly, in the St. James Infirmary, but my Dad would know better than I would - we talked after I placed some new flowers, and swept off the dust, and rearranged some of the plants that had died or dried up - I am sure my PaPa (prounced Paw Paw) would have been proud of me, and I know that my Dad probably called Uncle Freddy and let him know that little George stopped and gave Milieu a kiss...

New Orleans is a great place to start over or to just end up - there were plenty of folks doing a little bit of both - some were obviously not going anywhere else - they just ended up there, and had nothing on their plate except to eventually die a pauper somewhere in the quarter or holed up in a shit smelling alley - those folks mingled in with those who were there to breathe in excess in every shape of the word - and New Orleans unabashedly provides both - you can go there to die - nobody cares, and you can go there to live without fear of reprisal - nobody cares - family runs deep in New Orleans - and always will - I am glad that this is part of my heritage, and I am glad that I went back to see it.

I have been thinking of places to establish a residence - places far away from Jacksonville, but close enough that I can get back to see Soccer Games and Dad/Daughter Dances - and New Orleans would not be too bad of a choice.  I could rent some second floor apartment in one of the older buildings in the CBD - it would not be too much, and would be enough for me to have a place to be away from a town that I have grown to hate.  Let me rephrase that, I don't necessarily hate Jacksonville- I hate the circle that I used to run in - why - because that is what they are - and all they will ever be - and I chose to be a part of that - I actually aspired to be highly thought of in that circle - and to my surprise, it would have taken a hell of alot more to break in, but better yet, it took a hell of alot less to be free of it...

My ex-wife sent an apology card to Cadence this week- that's the Jacksonville I know - where you shit on people, you talk behind their backs, you carry on as if God granted you immunity for transgressions, and you follow it up with a bullshit apology.  I have had just about enough lip service from those folks as I can take, and the best thing about New Orleans - is that they don't care - they will tell you that you are an idiot - but will also let you know that they sing the blues for you....it was nice to be asked where I was from, and why i drove down into the quarter - that city holds a true personality for me - it is made up of good people - mostly poor, many undereducated, but for the most part, overwhelmingly good.  I wish Jacksonville could say the same...

Why so down on Jacksonville - last week was a shitty ending to a pretty shitty marriage.  I used to say that we were the only ones of Christy's friends that survived - and now I know I was lying - Christy and her friends are the only ones who survived - they surrounded themselves with their walled in communities and private school functions and Daddy is going to save me - and let their mothers convince them that they were good and wholesome - I was just a vehicle for that - and apparently, according to my ex, pretty anatomically challenged - (hell, I guess I should tell the story, I find it pretty funny now, and hey, it's true!)

So the daughter was running a fever - and I don't know about you other fathers out there who spend more time on the road than you did a home (not a pleasant commentary - I know I missed a lot more than I should have as a Dad, but I am trying to make up for lost time - the only good piece of advice my father-in-law ever gave me was that life is not a dress rehearsal - so I use that sometimes, and try to make up for past transgressions...)  Well, anyway, 102 degrees, complaining of a headache, and with the son just having the H1N1, and my daughter bawling, I called - and she talked, but somewhere in between beer number three or four - she hung up on her - and my daughter could not understand it - so I tried back - and after the third time, sent a text that would get her attention - and it did'nt  -not until 11:15 - and that's when the fun really began.

I get this call - and was on speakerphone, while she and her friends laughed and caroused at making me the ass of their jokes - it was a simple enough prank - shallow, empty, and pretty well thought of considering the group of folks it came from - it was like being back in high school - I had just signed the papers - was dealing pretty well with my day, and BAM - she and her Jax buddies thought it would be fun to gig me a few times - I give them an A for effort, but certainly, they win the "Talk Out of Both Side of Your Mouth Award" and the empty wishes of "I just want you to get to a happy place" seem to waft above the room like a stale boiled peanut fart (for those of you who have not experienced one of these, please do it by yourself...) - but that was not a big deal - I sent the obligatory emails to the attorneys, the parents, the friends - you see, I never put anyone's business in the streets - and I really don't have too much of a problem with mine being out there - but after Tuesday night, the revolving door zipper joke that I heard in Starbucks about my ex - or the jokes about Cougars on Prowl - looking for horsemeat, or the lack of appetite, or whatever became fair game - now I am taking the high road here - I could go into more detail - but refrain, for the sake of dragging up stupid shit that is not worth blogging about...

So the best part - we have a two hour Skype conference call with the girl that I am seeing now, and for once, for just a brief instant, it was nice to have someone else listen to the inane craziness that I listened to for twenty years - sure, I have made an ass out of myself - many times, and most times I am a little ashamed of it, a little embarrassed - but I have never lied about it - what you see is what you get - but now the reality of the situation is out there - I meant it when I said I have nothing to hide - but some people do - and cannot stay behind that veil of perfection and blame forever.  It was nice to get that closure, just simple, pure victory in a battle where no one really wins - you just try to walk off the battlefield with a little bit of dignity and at least an ounce of respect for yourself...glad to say that through all of this - I gained more dignity and a hell of an amount of respect - the truth will set you free - hell, I would go into everything that was said on the call - but the best part had to be...

Well, I will let you guess what was said - it is probably better that way - on to my next post...New Orleans and New Beginnings..

Until then -

George

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