January 2017

9 February 2017

The first month of 2017 was dead. Deader than a doornail.

 

It started with the bang of a hundred amateur fireworks in New Orleans and ended quietly in Schenectady. January always seemed to move quick. Although short-lived, the month was amok with activity and change, as these were my final days working in Louisiana.

 

I finally visited the WWII Museum and learned how little I knew about the War. The establishment was impressive–architecturally staggering, historically rich, and crafted to elicit the immensity of events in the not-so-distant past. The displays walked you through countless stories and the theatre left you in awe. To say the least, my perspective on contemporary American life changed after the visit. As much as I hate prescribing “must do” activities, the WWII Museum is certainly a must do in New Orleans.

 

In my last month, I also made several trips across the river. One with family to eat at a restaurant. One alone to bike around. One to hand-deliver a t-shirt I sold on Etsy. And another with a friend. The last trip was the last ride of the night, and we got trapped in Algiers. The bridge was inaccessible to walkers, sadly, and we had to get a Uber.

 

When this same friend was visiting, we took a day trip to Biloxi, MS to swim in the Gulf. The water was surprisingly warm (for Michiganders), and seagulls and contraband littered the beach. We almost stepped on a syringe.

 

The tailgate of my truck had rusted beyond repair, so I buried it in a dumpster. It was oddly sad leaving it behind–felt as though I was abandoning a piece of me, like a severed arm. I imagine that if my arm was ever chopped off, I’d like to keep it. Seeing that it’s not a renewable resource, like hair or fingernails, it would be weird to throw it away forever. Nonetheless, the severed tailgate made reversing my truck easier.