The American Countess was tied to two saplings at Natchez. I was a little surprised that two little trees could stop that big boat from moving but they did. Gordon and I had breakfast in the main dining room. Our pancakes and omelets took forever, of course, but the food was quite good. I appreciated the fact that the portions were kept small. We ate three times a day so I was never hungry but I didn’t gain weight either. I was also pleased that I actually got refills on my coffee without pitching a fit. Things were looking up.
We checked out bikes after breakfast. Gordon asked if he should adjust my seat but I didn’t want to waste the time. I should have wasted the time. The seat was so high I couldn’t put a foot down when I stopped, I went into a controlled fall. But I muddled along. We walked the bikes through Under Natchez which, in earlier days, was the home of brothels and bars. We climbed a steep hill to Upper Natchez where the rich folks lived. We had to be careful at the top because we had to share the narrow sidewalk with pedestrians. I didn’t hit anybody or impale myself on the picturesque wrought-iron fences but I was glad when we hit the street. Natchez is a charming town but the pandemic took a toll. Lots of For Rent signs. We rode for an hour then went back to the boat. The trip downhill was much faster and a lot more fun.
We went back to the boat and enjoyed the sunset from the top deck. We took a few laps around the third deck to work up an appetite. I was told seven laps made a mile. I’ll take their word for it. There were quite a few of us doing laps. We had lots of time because the gangplank on the ship broke. The American Countess is new construction and they’re still working out all the bugs. We watched two HUGE cranes trying to lift the thing so they could fix the rigging but couldn’t watch the resolution. It was time to eat.
Dinner was a little less aggravating. I’d learned that our server’s name was Francesca so when she sailed by with buns or wine I called out, “Francesca, can I have (whatever she had)?” She apologized for ignoring us but we got our wine and buns (with butter!) in a timely manner. So the only problem left was Horrible Henry. He was pontificating and and I disagreed with him at one point. He pointed at me and said, “Well, I’m going to tell you…” And I snapped back, “You have nothing to say that I’m interested in hearing.” And I continued my conversation with the Falls Church lady. That stopped the idiot dead. We all continued out conversations without him interrupting and monopolizing. Even his wife ignored him. Thus ended the reign of Horrible Henry. He modified his tone with us although he bullied poor Francesca. He insisted in ordering off the menu. He didn’t want duck or shrimp creole, he wanted a cheeseburger “because I have diabetes”. So they brought him a cheeseburger and french fries–which he bitched about. Poor Francesca. She started ignoring him too. Too bad he got his bun and wine with the rest of us. Wish I could have excluded him.
We went to the show with the trio and back-up band. They did a medley of 70s tunes. They had a good handle on their geriatric crowd. But dammit, we had music then. Kids today…
We skipped the bar again. I much preferred spending time on the top deck or our private veranda. The lights on the barge traffic were soothing. And it was quiet…
We went to the small cafe on the second deck for breakfast instead of fighting for food in the Main Dining Room. We thought it might be easier. All I wanted was an English muffin and coffee. They brought me a muffin but when I asked for butter and jam (always a Butter Battle!) they assured me it was on the way, then promptly forgot about me. I begged for butter three times before they finally brought it. Then I had to repeatedly beg for jam. The muffin was stone cold at this point. And I hadn’t even gotten to asking for a refill on the coffee. The manager finally noticed that I was getting increasingly unpleasant so we brought a fresh muffin WITH BUTTER AND JAM! Hallelujah! I was so worn out I didn’t even ask for more coffee. There was a room called Perks that provided coffee, cookies (sometimes) and soft serve ice cream. I always got my coffee there.
We toured St. Franceville later that morning. Actually, we just drove through it but we got to see some lovely period churches and homes. We drove past sugar can fields on the way to the next mansion. The guide explained that these fields were only a few months old so the cane was short. In 3 to 5 years the cane would be over my head and ready to be harvested. I’d seen mature cane fields on Maui so this was new to me. The guide also explained where the term Cajun came from. Acadia in Eastern Canada was taken over by the British and the French Acadians refused to turn Protestant. They stayed Catholic so the Brits booted them. They wandered around until they landed in what became Louisiana. They were called Acadians, Acajuns, and finally just Cajuns. They had their own version of French which was taken away; the guvmint insisted they learn English. Cajun French is now being taught in school to keep it alive.
The mansion we toured was called Rosedown. It was built in the 1830s and stayed in the family until the 1950s. It was a beautiful place but the story was sad. The daughters inherited the property and lived in a few rooms on the ground floor. They had an outdoor pump for water. No indoor plumbing or kitchen. The story reminded of the Beauvoir women living in Gray Gardens (is that right?) on Long Island. Grand house but living in poverty. The Rosedown sisters sold eggs to pay the taxes but the house decayed around them. The mansion has been restored and is lovely. Nice tour. We skipped the tour of Angola Prison. I’m sure it was educational but I didn’t want to spend $150 to go to prison. We listened to a lecture on the boat by the “Riverlorian” (his word). He gave an hour lecture about the Mississippi River. Interesting. We took a short nap, then fought the dinner battle. Not only was being served a problem, they expected us to sit at the same tables every night. I enjoyed the two ladies from Falls Church but Horrible Henry from Florida was a trial. We thought we lost him after two nights because he found another table but he showed up like a bad penny the last two evenings. We got really good at ignoring him but I didn’t like being stuck in the same place. Gordon prefers meeting new people and I prefer avoiding people like Horrible Henry. The only good thing about being stuck is they had Gordon’s glass of milk waiting by his plate every evening. I couldn’t get butter to save my life but Gordon always had milk. I should have made HIM ask for butter; we’d probably have gotten it. Anyway, we finished up the evening in the theater. The staff did an hour of Broadway show tunes. They were really good. We skipped going to the bar afterward. Gordon doesn’t drink and I was tired of people.
For some reason the boat didn’t stop at Baton Rouge. We went directly to Natchez. I’ll talk about that later. I’ve written enough.
Gordon and I had to re-schedule our Baltic cruise (again) but we were tired of being locked down in California so we booked a Mississippi cruise. We flew into New Orleans at 3 on a Saturday afternoon. The airport looked brand new and I suppose it had to be re-built after Hurricane Katrina. We took the shuttle to the Hilton and got a running commentary from the driver about how high the water had gotten during Katrina. Recovery from Katrina is still a big topic, especially with the tourists. We all watched it play out on TV. If the USA had a Walk of Disasters, Katrina would probably be included. Anyway, we got to our hotel and checked in with the tour company. We had to take one more COVID test (had to take one three days before the cruise started, I thought all the testing was redundant but the company was probably trying to avoid lawsuits). We took our nap and tried to find someplace for dinner. We tried to get into the Commodore’s Palace in the Garden District but they were booked. Most of the best places were booked because it was graduation weekend and everybody wanted to celebrate. Gordon got on Yelp and we finally managed to get into a highly recommended restaurant called ReBirth. And it was only four blocks from the hotel. We had to eat at the bar but that was fine; I’m more comfortable at a bar. We had four people with us watching the bartender burn something to make a drink. I almost got holes in my shirt but it was interesting. And I’m glad we couldn’t get into the other places because the food was spectacular. We shared gumbo and a salad then we each got our own fish entree. Delicious. I’ll go back if we ever get to NOLA again. We took a short stroll by the river on the way back to the hotel then died. It’d been a long day. The company fed us at the hotel the next morning but then Gordon and I took off on our own. We walked the five blocks to the Cafe du Monde for beignets but the crowd was blocks long. We checked three other beignet places in the French Quarter but all the lines were too long. Even the line in Starbucks on Canal Street was long. We gave up. We took a riding tour of New Orleans at noon. They took us to one of the above-ground graveyards and explained how the plots worked. I’d never seen anything like it. They took us to Lake Pontchartrain and showed where the levee failed. I didn’t know that the levee to the Gulf of Mexico did it’s job, it was the levee to the lake that failed and flooded the town. It’s a huge lake. Looked like an ocean to me. They drove us through the Garden District so we could enjoy the houses. Then they took us to the city park. I’d never heard of it but it’s full of art installations and family attractions. And they took us to a Cafe du Monde without a line! We finally got our cafe au laits and beignets. And they were delicious. The bus got us back in time to catch our boat, the American Countess. We’d been in New Orleans 24 hours and it felt like a month. The boat looked liked a paddlewheel. I don’t think they got much propulsion from the paddle but it looked great. We practiced an emergency drill then they let us go for dinner. And that began my Battle of the Butter. The food was good, the wine selections were great, but they were understaffed And the CDC had some bizarre serving rules that made what staff there were work harder. We were always the last served (seemed like) and nothing came when it should have. If we managed to snag a bun we couldn’t get any butter. I went through a week of begging for butter for my bun. Oh well, it gave me something to bitch about. We skipped the entertainment that night; we were tired. We sat on our veranda and played Huck Finn, watching the river drift by in the moonlight. It was neat.
It’s that time of year again. That’s right: awards season. I’ve started watching films and these are my comments.
Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom. The actor’s are all wonderful. I barely recognized Viola Davis as Ma Rainey. My problem is with the script. Like they could improve on August Wilson! They cut Toledo’s part and changed the ending. Toledo is the older man who seems to be the only one with common sense. I remember one of his speeches where he suggests that a young band member quit blaming everything on white people. It seemed to be a message of personal responsibility. That speech got cut. Most of his speeches were cut. They also changed the ending. I know it’s Black History month but changing the play to fit a narrative? Leave Wilson’s words alone. He writes powerful, thoughtful plays. The play was not improved by their fiddling.
A better film, in my opinion, was One Night in Miami. It’s about an epic night when Malcom X, Sam Cooke, Jim Brown, and Mohammed Ali get together. to talk about where they’ve come from and where they’re going. I can’t break this down into an elevator pitch but I recommend it highly. Thought-provoking and moving. And the actors are brilliant.
I was really looking forward to Mank. It’s the story of how Citizen Kane was made with political commentary included. I know it’s popular to trash Republicans and the writer really enjoys it. But the political shenanigans in the 30s he deplores are the tactics used by the Democrats now. The game’s the same; only the names have changed. Maybe that’s what he was trying to point out. I read that Sartre had to write for the Nazis amusement when he was in a concentration camp. So he used his words to mock them and they never caught on. Whatever. Gary Oldman is excellent as usual but I didn’t particularly enjoy the film. No heroes. Maybe that was the intent.
Watched the first two episodes of Ted Lasso. The plot is lifted almost entirely from Major League–except it’s not funny. They take a shot at American imperialism–evil military!–so we know they’re politically correct but that was the only shot. I just didn’t think it was funny. But I’m not their demographic.
Barb: We’re running late but finally got our exterior Christmas decorating done. We had a string of lighted snowflakes that I loved but they died. Actually, they were so tacky even Walmart doesn’t carry them, so we bought some icicle type thingies. More tasteful but less fun. Also had to find a replacement for the Santa on a Ladder. I thought it would be amusing but Santa looked like we lynched him over the porch. Not a good idea for this PC age. I finally found a copy of our old Santa light on Amazon. Cost too much but at least our house doesn’t look like Klan headquarters.
The pandemic stopped our usual activities. No theater, no symphony, can’t go out to eat, can’t travel. Our May Baltic cruise got postponed, all the family and class reunions were cancelled, so we have airfare credits up the wazoo. We’ll use them eventually, but we’re bored. And twitchy. The guvmint tried shutting down the parks so Angeleno’s would be well and truly trapped but we know all the back trails; we took our hikes anyway. We went on a trip in September just to get out of the house—and California. We flew into Denver and stayed at the Brown Palace which is situated in the middle of the city. It was strange going from the 19th century grandeur of the Palace to the surrounding skyscrapers. After dinner and a tour to read about the history of the hotel we went to bed early because there wasn’t anything else to do.
Next day we started early for Wyoming. We had to schlep our suitcases to the parking garage a block away. We thought we’d gotten such a good deal on the hotel, but management made up for that by charging $50 to park. Also got dinged for Wi-Fi. Hampton Inn lets you have it for free. I guess rich people don’t think about this stuff but a schlub like me notices. Anyway, back to Wyoming. I’d forgotten about wide open spaces. It was refreshing after being cooped up in Los Angeles. We stopped to look at the dinosaur exhibits and get info. A lovely little old lady—I should be careful; she was probably my age—told us the best place to eat was at an historic hotel in Cheyenne. I’d been to Cheyenne once 45 years ago during the Frontier Days rodeo. My only memory was getting into a brawl at the Mayflower Bar when a drunk cowboy grabbed me. I went screeching up one side of him and down the other. I think I scared him. Turns out it’s a lovely little town. The referred restaurant was crappy but picturesque. We toured the train depot which houses a museum, a portion of which is dedicated to frontier women. They’re proud that Wyoming was the first state to grant women suffrage. Must have been a bunch of tough women. You’ d have to be to be a pioneer. Gordon found a park with a HUGE train engine, so he was in hog heaven. Then we drove four hours to Devil’s Tower. It’s impressive but we reacted the same way we did to the Grand Canyon. We gazed in awe for five minutes then looked at each other and said, “That was nice. What’s next?” We have short attention spans. We got to Spearfish in two hours, had dinner, and died. It had been a long day.
Next day we relived my youth. We toured Mt. Rushmore and I showed Gordon the back ways where the employee dorms were. We visited the Crazy Horse Monument, and I confessed how we’d sneak up the back way and drink beer in Crazy Horse’s armpit. The Park Rangers would chase us off, and we’d giggle at the “Tree Pigs” as we ran. I’m surprised I got through my youth without an arrest record. Chalk it up to SoDak forbearance. I was delighted at all the wildlife we saw from Needles Highway; buffalo, antelope, deer, big-horn sheep, chipmunks…all the critters I didn’t see in Alaska last year. I was surprised at the traffic. I thought everybody would be home because school was in session. Oh, that’s right—no school. And South Dakota was one of the few places still open for business, so tourists flocked. We wore our masks when requested but other than that we weren’t inconvenienced. And the businesses weren’t going broke.
We visited an old friend in Rapid City (band buddy of Gordon’s, theater buddy of mine) then drove across the state enjoying the public art. We stopped at Chamberlin to get a picture of Dignity and tour the Lewis & Clark museum, then drove to Mitchell to see the Corn Palace. We finally ended up in Brookings where we relived our college days and did a tombstone tour to say “hi” to the relatives. We spent a day in Sioux Falls looking at art and visiting old friends before flying out of Omaha. And we’ve been trapped in our house ever since. We managed to enjoy outdoor dining at favorite restaurants for our anniversary and birthdays, but it’s been quiet. Baseball season is over (the Dodgers won! Yay!) and there’s nothing I like on TV except Masterpiece Theater. I hate most of what I’ve seen on Spectrum and Amazon Prime. I’m ready for this pandemic to be over.
One good thing: I won a National Indie Excellence Award for my second novel, Marianne Moves On. That’ll be great for advertising if I can ever figure out how to do that. I took a class but it’s a discouraging process. Lots of books out there—but I’ve got a gold star! Hope that’s worth something.
The cats are fine. George is fat and 15 but he still manages to keep the critters out of the house. He stopped a coyote who was sniffing at the cat door last night. Good George! He’s like Horatio at the bridge. Grace is 4 and as slim as George is fat. She was brave after the fight. She fluffed up and snarled even though the coyote was gone. She brings in birds, mice, and lizards then lets them go. It’s Gordon’s job to evict the critters. We have an oven mitt dedicated for that purpose.
As usual, I’m in Gordon’s space so I’ll close and have a glass of wine. Maybe that’ll cheer me up. Couldn’t hoit. Have a Happy and a Merry and a ho ho ho.
Gordon: The holidays have been coming and going almost unnoticed, except for all the wonderful things coming out of Barb’s kitchen. With no gotta-do jobs in the pipeline, my LA Conservancy tours shut down and LA on lockdown (again, again – make up your minds, folks), the days tend to blend into one another. Hope I haven’t missed too many Zoom meetings because I forgot to check my calendar in the morning.
I’ve discovered that I’m not an 8-hour sleeper – my circadian rhythms knock me for a loop at about 2 pm for an hour or so, and I’m missing lots of prime-time shows as I go out from 9- 11 pm. Then I’m up for a few hours, sleep about 4, and wake up in time to do my daily walks in the dark around 4 am. Which means I have Elysian Park to myself, aside from the assorted skunk or coyote, and I can carry a mask in case I see anyone within 100 feet. Most mornings, I don’t need it.
Barb’s already covered our one trip, and aside from that, we haven’t done much except look at each other and complain about being bored. We did do a couple of whale watching trips on days when it hit 100 degrees, just to get out of the heat. So far, we’ve seen lots of dolphins and sea lions, but after four trips we still haven’t seen a real whale.
Christmas is looking a lot like Halloween, Thanksgiving, and our birthdays – we’ll eat too much, most of it cooked by Barb or picked up and eaten here. We’re old enough that it’s hard to buy presents that surprise the other, so aside from decorating the tree with all the souvenir ornaments we’ve picked up on our travels and hanging the lights on the house to cheer the neighbors up, we just put the Amazon booty under the tree and don’t bother to wrap it. Not wasting all that wrapping paper sort of offsets the recycling needed for the Amazon boxes, I think…
Our Ocean Cruise is now scheduled for May 2021, and various other reunions/family get-togethers and other functions will probably surface next year, so we can look forward to a vaccinated and (hopefully) reopened year. We hope your year has been healthy, and remind you that this too shall pass. Best wishes for 2021, and keep the faith.
Dignity. They don’t make anything small in South DakotaGordon at Mt. RushmoreDevil’s Tower
