I really miss my dad. Don’t get me wrong. – I’ve missed him nearly every day of the 17 years he’s been gone but being here has made it much more acute. My dad was a huge jazz fan and I credit him with what ever musical appreciation I have. Not that I’m anywhere close to the aficionado that he was. I don’t know if he ever visited New Orleans – we certainly never did as a family  – but I know he would have loved this place. From a National Park to performers on every street corner, the music is everywhere.  

 

We started day two of the birthday weekend with a common activity for such trips: a visit to the local cathedral. The St. Louis cathedral is listed as the oldest cathedral in North America built on the site of a parish church built in 1720. One of the interesting things is that along one side of the nave are all the flags of the countries that have claimed New Orleans – and there are a few!   The stained glass was nothing exceptional so I lit a candle for my mom (old habits die hard) and we headed on. 

 

The only scheduled activity for the day was a walking tour on jazz history lead by one of the park rangers at the New Orleans Jazz National Historical Park (http://www.nps.gov/jazz/). It’s the only national park dedicated to an art form and the ranger went over the history of jazz and New Orleans as the two are inextricably linked. We learned about Storyville, Louis Armstrong and how Hugh Hefner helped the civil rights movement. Absolutely fascinating! Now I need to learn about the history of jazz in KC – I’ve been woefully neglectful of the art form in my own back yard. 

The rest of the day was spent exploring the French market , where the annual Foodfest is also taking place. Yum. Grabbing a cup of coffee while a jazz trio plays. (But not at Cafe du Monde. I don’t care it it’s a “must do” – I can’t eat the beignets and no cup of coffee is worth waiting in that line especially one with chicory in it!) wandering through the stalls with everything from alligator heads to voodoo dolls. Snarfing down gourmet fries with fresh thyme and goat Gouda. All accompanied by a tasty frozen beverage. 

We wandered all over town hitting the warehouse art district – like our crossroads district in KC- and even taking the ferry across the mighty Mississippi to Algiers. It was a eerily quiet little town but we walked along the levee wondering how well it would hold back the churning muddy water and enjoyed the views of the New Orleans skyline. 

 

A quick trip back to the B&B to drop of the purchases from the French market and then it was happy hour in a neighborhood establishment.  Very different vibe here – no frozen drinks of unnatural hues served in kitchy plastic cups shaped like fishbowls or hand grenades. This was a serious watering hole that understood how to really make a tall Tito’s and tonic and which had a single malt collection that even impressed Frank. 

Off to dinner back in the craziness of the French quarter – Red Fish grill on Bourbon Street. Thank goodness for my OpenTable app or we never would have gotten a seat. The food was outstanding, the service excellent and the GF cheesecake for dessert was to die for. We then wove our way down Royal street back to Frenchman Street to Maison for more music. We encountered three street bands and one parade along the way. A couple of sets by the Smoking Time Jazz Club band and it was time to call it a day – a tiring (12 more miles clocked by the fitbit) but musical day. Hope dad enjoyed it too –  I’m pretty sure he was along for the ride.