Around Town

Thursday's long levee ride felt fast but was otherwise uneventful. I got back to the house hot and thirsty, and then after a shower and bite to eat I stepped out onto the sidewalk with the commuting bike. The sun was already beating down on the city, and I was glad that half of my commute is, not accidentally, on streets shaded by nice old Oaks. The worst part is the mile along Broad Street where I have to go over the long Broad St. overpass that crosses the Interstate, the railroad tracks, and a number of other streets. For some reason the drivers seem to think this overpass is the local version of the Autobahn, and I routinely get passed by cars going 50 mph (the speed limit is 35). The Wife refuses to ride over this overpass unless absolutely necessary, preferring to take her chances on the Jeff. Davis overpass with its bike path paved in broken glass.

So after a long day at work I thought that since we were both on our bikes we might stop off at the Ogden Museum for their regular "Ogden After Hours" and have a beer while listening to one of the local musicians. Today they had local artist Linzzi Zoarski, who does this fun 1940s style stuff that somebody referred to as "Frenchman Street Jazz." The only problem with these things at the Ogden is that the acoustics are worse than terrible. Like most museums, the place is all glass and marble, so it's like trying to listen to music from inside a tin can. On the other hand, the nice thing is that they always feature a little informal interview with the artist that is always interesting. So I had a beer and we bought one of her CD, and headed toward home the long way along Magazine street.

Well let me tell you that riding your bike down Magazine St. around 7 pm when you're already hungry smells delicious. There are tons of restaurants along Magazine, and it quickly became irresitable. So we stopped at Semolina's Bistro Italia, across the street from the Bulldog and next-door to Rocky's, where I had a nice glass of porter and some excellent pasta marinara out on the sidewalk. As we were sitting there I thought "I'll bet I spot Kenny Bellau before we leave," because I think I've seen him almost every time I've been there. Well, right on cue Kenny (who is giving a free criterium clinic tomorrow after the Giro Ride) wanders by with a couple of friends trying to decide on where to eat dinner. I think they ended up walking down to the sushi place since one of them was some kind of Catholic-style Vegan who doesn't eat mammals or birds but does eat fish -- raw. A couple of tables down was a police officer having his dinner. I often see police officers on foot patrol around this area. As we're sitting there I hear a few fireworks go off just down the block, and the police officer jumps up and starts running down the street. I think he gave the moron who did it a good little lecture, and then returned to his dinner.

Anyway, by the time we ate it was starting to get dark, which made the rest of the ride home through the upper garden district, uptown, and Audubon park quite pleasant. Or maybe they were the two beers that made it so pleasant. These are the kinds of things that make living in New Orleans so interesting, even after all these years.