The Big Easy Going

A handful of us had found shelter under a long wooden overhang that allowed for precious few dry spots between the drips. A man walked by, enjoying a brief respite from the downpour. "If you don't like the weather, wait five minutes," he reassured us. We waited ten. The rain came down even harder, though that hadn't really seemed possible.

There are lots of things to love about New Orleans. Passersby always say hello, and astonishingly well-behaved dogs walk by without even bothering to sneak a sniff. One gentleman under the overhang offered to share his umbrella. Another offered to buy me a coffee. I was content to wait it out, enjoy Mother Nature's show for a while. Anyway, in New Orleans, you're never too far from a warm and cozy place to take a load off. In this case, in fact, only about six inches.

Another love-worthy thing about New Orleans -- the mouth-watering Wifi passwords. Croissant. Strawberry. They even tell you what it is immediately, no need to beg. A virtual warm welcome, topping off the sweet aromas that manage to sustain my feelings of hunger no matter how many meals I eat here. The rain stopped long before I finished my snack; I was dry and sated, just in time for lunch with my daughter.

Though my wanderings through New Orleans have taken me past a fair mix of mansions and shanties, I know there are broken down sections that somehow escape the eye of an average, self-indulgent tourist like me. Still, there is an aura here, a content-to-be-alive kind of aura, where endless hours of porch sitting on a brutally hot day seem downright productive and fulfilling. Even the alligators in the bayou appeared to have a keen appreciation for just being, gliding peacefully through the muck as we humans winced at the stinging rain drops and the roar of our airboat's motor.

This morning, before I head back north to a reality of harsh self-judgment and unrealistic goal-setting and days of pointless referenda on the inadequacy of my existence, my daughter and I will tour an old cemetery and cap it off with some beignets. A mix of inspiring epitaphs of lives well lived and a delectable reminder of how to do just that.