0630 US3251 BDL PHL 0530 0646 E75 3F

Cruelty of cruelties, I got my buddy Dave to take me
to the airport at 4:30; the place was surprisingly
hopping, and they had to open a second line at security
(which as usual these days took seconds). The Club doesn't
open until 5:30, what good is that.

Loaded up in orderly fashion. Two FAs on this quite full
express flight, one quite sullen though model-gorgeous,
the other somewhat more cheery though much less pretty.

I had an empty next to me, until the last pax boarded. A
POS, spilling out into my seat, but apologetic. Turns out
she gets panic attacks. I helped her as best I could, giving
pep-talks, advice, whatever a violist can do. Exhausting.
We switched midflight (the fact that the seat belt sign was
still on threatened to give her yet another attack) so she
could lean against the side of the aircraft and zone out.

A fairly bumpy flight; we landed about 6:35 or 40, but as
our gate was occupied, we sat around until a little after 7,
which annoyed a nonzero number of passengers, including me.

I'd told Miss Panic Attack that I'd try to get her a better
seat on her next flight - she'd been assigned aisles,
whereas she prefers huddling against the window, but as we
docked a bit late, there was no time to do anything. I hope
she's okay.

Being guilty of guilt, when I got to my gate and discovered
it not boarding yet, I went back to try to keep track of the
pax just described. Couldn't find her, and by the time I
gave up, it was boarding time (zone 3) for my next flight.

Oh. There was a bright orange apparently abandoned bag at
the end of the moving walkway nearest the US Airways Club.
I was in a hurry and didn't investigate further and didn't
bother to call anyone. I figure that anybody wanting to
disrupt an airport could just abandon bright orange bags
and then phone in sightings. Closed airports could cost
almost as much as exploded airports with much less risk
and investment. Anyhow, haven't all the bags been screened
already?

US1143 PHL MSY 0740 0952 734 2C

My seatmate was grumpy and self-important. He expanded his
personal space, using as much armrest space and underseat
storage as he could get away with and otherwise bored me.
No further information available.

A fairly okay flight, but instead of breakfast, we got the
standard snack basket. No problems there, as we had Biscoffs
and cranberry-nut mix. We landed very close to on time.

The E2 bus costs only $1.60 and takes 45 minutes to
Tulane and Loyola, whereas the shared van costs $30 and
might take anywhere between 30 and 60 minutes, and a cab,
who knows. Of course, there's a mile walk at the end of
the line, but wandering through the Quarter isn't such a
great tragedy.

Lunch at Cafe Madea's on Common St. a few blocks north of
the Pere Marquette. This is a most unprepossessing tiny
storefront that when I walked by had really appetizing
smells coming out of it. The special was red beans and rice
with fried chicken or pork chops; I got the chicken, which
was atypically not extremely crispy - it had been floured
lightly and garlicked and was very tasty. Three drumsticks.
The red beans and rice was lovely, the beans done all
creamy and soft, the rice somewhat below average, what there
was that you could find under the beans. A big chunk of
smoked pork riblets gave lots of flavor. With this I had a
can of some local pineapple soda, Big Shot or Top Hat or
something, which was nasty and gave me a 200 Calorie hit
of HFCS.

The other offering of the day was the turkey wing with
cabbage - this smelled pretty good. There are I believe a
la carte offerings as well, but I get the feeling that to
order any of them would put the help out - there appeared to
be only two of them, and they were very busy.

Stayed at Bienville House, 320 Decatur St., a funky (in both
good and less good senses) place right near Jackson Park. A
better location could not be had. The complaints about this
place tend to revolve around noisiness (it's the Quarter,
duh), so I got a cheap windowless room by choice, and it was
lovely. The room was nicely appointed, with two comfy double
beds and sturdy, fairly okay furniture; and as the a/c runs
continuously, there was no mustiness problem. Wi-fi is $10
extra, but there's a computer in the lobby that can be used
for small lookups and chores (10-min limit), so that's what
I did. Some cheap stuff branded Gilchrist & Soames, giving
one a false sense of anticipation, in the bathroom; it was
average at best.

I was welcomed like family, despite the fact that the only
reason I was there was because it was Monday, and
Galatoire's (where I used to have a favorite waiter, back in
the last millennium) was closed. I got the first table in
the dining room, and they tried to seat me with my back to
the entrance, so with mild peevishness I demurred, getting
the seat 90deg to the right, much more satisfactory. Why, I
wonder, do men hate to be seated with their backs to the
entrance? Fear of being shot down, or what.

The place was about 1/4 full at 6:30; by 7:30 there wasn't
a seat to be had.

My waitstaff gradually diminished in stature as it became
clear that I was an easy customer. First, a captain; then a
guy who had been there probably since before Katrina; then a
cutish young lady, probably there just since the hurricane;
finally, some kid who didn't, by his looks, know his bottom
from his elbow. All turned out to be fine.

A Sazerac cocktail was impossibly sweet; on inquiry it was
discovered that instead of absinthe, herbsaint is now used.
Actually, it tasted as though they'd put in the cheapest
available anisette. I chugged it and asked for a slice of
lemon to ream out my palate. The only Sazerac I'd ever had
before was made with absinthe from Pernod, vintage 1922.
This one was a huge disappointment. I'd ordered it because
Arnaud's is reputed to be the originator of the drink.

Oysters Arnaud - this is one each of five varieties - the
name is said to come from a request by Bette Midler for one
of each from the menu; the chef demurred, whereupon the
waiter invented the name and the sampler on the spot and
prevailed on the cook to dish it up. The story is belied by
the fact that all these kinds are made up in bulk probably
the day of, if not before. The five were arranged

Bienville - mushrooms and shrimp in white wine cream: quite
delicate and pleasing, and the only preparation that didn't
overwhelm the very mild Gulf oysters;

Kathryn - minced artichokes (canned), garlic, Parmesan: not
bad at all, but I didn't think it did much for the oysters;

Suzette - bacon, red pepper, green pepper, scallions: quite
savory but really overpowered;

Ohan - eggplant and andouille: also rather nice, I think
second best to the Bienville, but I really do like eggplant;

Rockefeller - the usual spinach and anise production, though
I thought blander than Antoine's or Galatoire's or even the
ones in fancy restaurants out east.

The order of eating, in my opinion, should be Bienville,
Rockefeller, Kathryn, Ohan, Suzette, delicate to robust
in order.

I told the waiter that I was in a sampler mood, so he
said, of course, you want the veal Wohl (he was right) -
it turns out to be three minis of regular menu items:

A crab cake was full of filler and not very attractive at
all; I could console myself because I didn't have a full
order, just this little tasteless taster;

veal Chantal - brown sauce with cream and mushrooms, was
the dish of the day, the veal about 3 oz from the end of
the filet, done medium, in a lovely sauce;

crawfish O'Connor - tomatoes and brandy, served on a
puff pastry thingy; this was quite palatable, the crawfish
somewhat overcooked (read: precooked a long time ago) but
native or at least not the nasty Chinese things they try to
pawn off on you these days. The puff pastry, soaked in
tomato cream, was of course dead soggy.

Desserts looked boring, so I had an order of shrimp Arnaud
(in a very mustardy, sour remoulade) instead to finish off
the bottle of wine with. Which was

Macon Villages (Drouhin) 06 - this was pretty much the
bargain of the list at $26. A standard Chardonnay with not
much character, but it sure beat sucking down cheap stuff
out of a jug at $9 to 12 a glass. I varied my drinking habit
to see what would happen: if my glass was empty, I expected
it to be filled within a minute. The first time I did this,
the waiter took 58 seconds to refill my glass. The next
couple times, I'd been handed off to the blonde waitress,
and she filled my glass in 6 and 10 seconds respectively,
even though she wasn't overtly hovering or monitoring. Most
impressive. The last couple times, it was the green kid, and
he took round about 20-30 seconds.

Lunch at Acme: a dozen large plump silky grays, kind of
bland in the way that Gulf oysters often are this time of
year, but a problem I had never encountered before here.
Usually Abita amber is a good foil to the oysters. Today,
it dominated. So instead of a second dozen, I got a second
beer. The place is somewhat homogenized and pasteurized
since Katrina: the floors and restrooms are clean, and
there's no more monument to gluttony (the plaque with names
of people who have eaten more than 15 dozen at a sitting).

=

Papa Joe's BBQ, Canal St.: I asked for a rib sandwich plus
a side of RBR. The counterman suggested that I get the rib
dinner, which comes with two sides, for about the same cost.
So that's what I did. What comes: a couple spareribs; a
couple baby backs; a big chunk of rib tips. These are done
in the parboiled style, so the flavor is relatively bland;
the sauce is sweetish but inoffensive; it doesn't have
anything awful like HFCS or fake smoke. The ribs were pretty
decent otherwise; the rib tips were tough as nails, and I
couldn't figure out how that happened. My sides were double
red beans and rice; these, though enhanced with the sweetish
BBQ sauce, were quite good.

=

Things done, in addition to the usual wander about the
Quarter and buy the occasional beer or fancy drink:

Jean Lafitte National Historical Park - actually, it's just
the visitor center that is here; the actual attractions are
spread out across the whole southern part of the state. But
there are interpretive exhibits that can easily take an hour
or two of your time.

New Orleans Jazz National Historical Park - while at the
former, I met a college classmate, who put in a pitch for
this: turns out it's a rather bare room with a stage on one
end, a projection booth, and a ranger. Also, there are short
photoessays on major and minor New Orleans jazz figures on
the walls. Integral to the experience is the walking tours
of the city, for which brochures are available here.

I'd thought about taking the Natchez on a sightseeing tour,
but then either parsimony or my allergy to hokey tourist
things spake, and I took a riverfront walk on my own
instead.

=

Checkout of the hotel is noon. I got up at 6:45 and went
down to the breakfast room to load up on carbs so I could
zone out until checkout time. Poured myself a glass of
juice and went to take a sticky bun. Some waitress person
came out and said, oh, no, it's not open until 7 (not noted
in the hotel literature or by the front desk); I said, well,
I'll just steal this roll and take it back to the room. I
think her literalness was marginally satisfied. Not so my
appetite. It was about the worst sticky bun I'd ever had,
rivalled in unwholesomeness by the age-raddled things you
get wrapped in cellophane in convenience stores and vending
machines, where you can hardly tell where the plastic stops
and the pastry begins.

Did manage to snooze for a while before checking out.

Took the bus back; it took 40 minutes, just 10 more than a
cab would have at this time of day. Another $1.60.

Lunch at Acme at the airport. The oysters are a buck less
per dozen than downtown; they were also, surprise, somewhat
better. The kicker: a MGD was $5.70++. Down by the gate you
can get a Heineken for $5.20++. Let this be a warning.

Wi-fi is free, though. If I'd known, I'd have come here an
hour earlier. As it was, I just had time to do my FT
routine minus part of the United forum, before boarding was
called. New Orleans has an impressive array of gate lice.
It was hard to fight my way through from the next gate, and
by the time I got through, they'd called zone 2 (and none of
the madding crowd moved even then).

0701 US1888 MSY PHL 1450 1845 319 2A

My seatmate was another of those business types, but this
one was polite and didn't ooze beyond his space. Quite
attentive though poker-faced FA. Glenlivets plus working
Empower made the flight go quickly. Again, no meal but the
usual snack basket. Hey US AIR, why did you substitute the
nasty sour cream and onion Sun Chips for the Cape Cod potato
chips? Even reduced-fat potato chips beat Sun Chips cold.

US 777 PHL BOS 1930 2103 319 2A

Same aircraft as the previous flight. I decided not to trek
to the club for half an hour, instead spending the time
looking for a working electric outlet. On my tenth try I
found one, by gate 16. None of the others in nearby gates
have any juice. Boarded up on time; same crew as last time,
so the FA poured me my first Glenlivet before I got around
to asking for it. Though there was a sizable line waiting
for takeoff, there were no significant glitches, so we
ended up landing quite early.