When You're Lost, Everything's a Sign. That was the tag line for Self-Taught Art from The House of Blues Collection, an exhibit at The Ogden, the best damn thing my alma mater has ever done. With Alida and Shirley I wandered through the upper floors for that show and another of Eudora Welty photos from the thirties while the sounds of the gospel group performing on the first floor echoed up through the well of the building. I love that place. Now I am reading Eudora Welty stories, three a day to be exact.

I get on the bus in N.O. and there is a special place to sit next to the friendly driver for those who do not have exact change. I feed a dollar bill into a slot. Where to get off? How about Magazine at Jackson. Despite all my dreams involving transportation issues, I love driving in New Orleans, remembering old routes, figuring out new ones, doing paralyzed parking, processing a lot of info at once.

High tea at Windsor Court starts with a cocktail then many cups from a properly made pot of tea. Fried green tomato poboy at Mahoney's. Cruising the art on Julia Street and meeting George Schmitt (not fair, he gets to be an excellent painter and play in New Leviathan Foxtrot Orchestra too); what a story teller. And finish up the night and the vacation with coffee and beignets at the new Morning Call in city park. Roasted corn grits on the street in Lafayette and Jinx getting catfish combo to mean catfish with shrimp etoufee on top instead of fries, and Ville Platte like a trip to the past where "The Help" is still happening. Rabbit fettuccine at Rue 127 with Julie and Aimee and that deep roux gumbo, then across the street to Brocato's for cappuccinos.

Maine had some glorious weather for our re-entry, actually warmer than most of our days down south. Global weirding, I guess. In looking around for some part time work, I am thinking about how to combine my skills and interests into something that is not sitting at a computer all day writing code. Looking for the intersection of people, computers, books, non-profit environment. Libraries are one place where those all come together well. I am looking around for a library job of some sort, but given the shrinking budgets of local schools and towns, I may have to volunteer at first.

On the May mix, three Booker things in a row: Booker's live version of Eleanor Rigby, then two Booker tribute things by Tom McDermott and Henry Butler. Tom McDermott captures the key changing playfullness, but Henry Butler has more elaborate left hand stuff than anyone else. He is Booker with a master's degree. Creole Man by Davell Crawford is on it too. I bought Davell Crawford's new one at Louisiana Music Factory, that shrine to local music where you can find a whole wall of swamp pop or zydeco.