The Garden of Irks and Delights

For Future Bloggers

noreply@blogger.com (LisaPal) — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 16:03:00 +0000

What: Blogging 101 Class: An Introduction to Blogging for the Utter Novice

When: Thursday, Nov. 12; 6:30 p.m. - 8:30 p.m.

Where: The Bridge Lounge, 1201 Magazine St

Why: To Learn About Blogging and for Free Beer.

Who: Rising Tide

This class will be taught by two local bloggers and will focus on blogging platforms, hosting, getting started, a walk-through of basic blog software, posting, adding media, blogrolls, linking, commenting and more. Laptops are encouraged.

A week later and I'm still VERY irked by this.

noreply@blogger.com (LisaPal) — Thu, 10 Sep 2009 07:53:00 +0000

OK, sure it's the first time I've posted anything in ages and surely there are lots of other things I should have written about, but here was this article, sitting open in a browser window, and it got me all outraged again.

So, the Harahan (New Orleans suburb) police stopped New Orleans Saints free safety Usama Young for speeding and then arrested him for an outstanding parking ticket? One issued on private property? (Parking in a handicapped zone in a mall parking lot.) And they charged him with "flight from an officer using a motor vehicle" because it took him a half mile to stop? (That's 880 yards, by the way-- less than 9 football fields. Hardly a case of "flight." You do need a little time to find a safe spot to pull over and stop the car.)

Yes, they did.

That's how the Harahan police operate. Maybe the real charge here was driving while black, but I can assure you that anyone is fair game in Harahan. I could tell you a colorful story about how I was shaken down by their court system after receiving a ticket that the cop, himself, admitted I didn't deserve. But who has time for that? Anyway, I've heard tons of Harahan Police stories from all kinds of people so if you've got to go there, don't take a single traffic liberty, no matter how tempting.

Rising Tide 4!

noreply@blogger.com (LisaPal) — Mon, 03 Aug 2009 08:15:00 +0000

On the off chance that you haven't deleted me from your feed reader yet, I wanted to be sure to tell you about this year's Rising Tide conference. Harry Shearer is the keynote speaker. Don't miss it.

Oh, and now that I'm home, I'm starting to feel like blogging again. Should I bother? Just wondering if I'm still on anyone's radar because if not, I'll just become Facebook's full-time bitch. (FB is just so easy.)

Seriously, do get thee to the Rising Tide site and get thyself registered. I'll see you there.
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Stunning Rising Tide 4 artwork by Greg Peters (Suspect Device), available on posters, t-shirts and coozies at the conference.

Look what I got!!!

noreply@blogger.com (LisaPal) — Sat, 21 Mar 2009 08:51:00 +0000

#1 Hanging Light
Originally uploaded by Salvations2008.

Sure, there's been a lot of "news" happening in my life lately and I haven't blogged anything. So, here's something!

Wonderful synchronicity has returned to my life. Yay!!

There have been quite a few instances of this recently, but the one I'm most excited about tonight involves this fabulous chandelier made of nothing but scrap metal-- mostly nails, washers and nuts. (You've really got to see this thing in person to appreciate it.)

A couple of weeks ago I went to see a movie with a friend that I've been hanging around with a lot lately. We had time to kill before the film started, (at Canal Place, for you locals), so we went cruising around the building and found an exhibit of some very cool items made of reclaimed materials. We noticed that they were eventually being auctioned but didn't note the details.

So, tonight, we had plans to see Ché Part 1 at Canal Place (for you locals) and were going to the 7:00 PM showing. Around 4:00 PM, my friend called and asked if we could switch to the 9:50 PM show because he was running behind with things and so was I, so no problem. We decided to meet up a little early and when purchasing our tickets noticed some affair taking place in the adjacent area. We decided to check it out and see if, perhaps, we could casually cruise around and maybe grab a cocktail, No one was at the registration table so we were able to slip in without incident and immediately realized that the very cool objects d'art were being auctioned and the chandelier that enchanted me two weeks earlier was on silent auction. The movie was starting in 10 minutes and the bidding was ending in 20. I rushed over to get a bidding number and then lurked around the item waiting to pounce while my friend went to stake out our spot in the theatre.

Finally, I bid $50 more than the highest bidder but the auction people didn't pick up the bid sheets right away, so I sheepishly implored anyone who looked interested in the item to please, please, pleeeease not outbid me. And no one did!!

The best thing about this chandelier -- other than its consummate coolness-- is the fact that because of it, I am now absolved of all of the lighting compromises I've had to make to get this house finished. I can now buy the fixtures that I perceive as cliché with impunity. This is a big deal, as the lighting decisions have been a big hang-up for me and are probably the biggest thing standing between me and the final electrical inspection.

So that's one more thing (of many), that I'm grateful to this particular friend for doing. He wanted me to see the first film on the night we first saw the chandelier, (he'd already seen the film), and it was his idea to postpone tonight's movie> Had we not caught the late show and arrived early with time to kill, (again, his idea), the whole stroll-in-and-bid thing would not have happened.

I am the owner of the fabulous chandelier! Happy? Oh, yes, I am!

Oh, and in other news, (kinda old news now, but in case you haven't heard), Renard and I broke up after 7 years together.

I'll take better, more detailed pictures of the chandelier once I have my hot little hands on it. Or you can check out the ones I just found, like this one on Flickr (I can blog it but can't link to to it-??), part of a whole set of pictures of it. You can also check out all the other cool items auctioned at the Green Project's Salvations 2009 event. The fork and knife bench went for $1000. My chandelier was a real steal.

Dear Blog, Have I killed you yet?

noreply@blogger.com (LisaPal) — Thu, 01 Jan 2009 04:24:00 +0000

You're only 4 years old. Too young to die. Wait...do I detect a weak and thready pulse? Maybe there's still some life here.
----
I didn't mean to do it. It's just that it's hard to post when you have so many other things that you should be getting done. I don't like hearing you didn't do blah blah blah but you found time to post, even though that's probably always been the case to some degree. It just seems like lately there's been more on the list and it's not just me being affected by my lapses.

So, I apologize for all my neglectful behavior; for not responding to comments and e-mails and memes (which I will do, I promise), for not commenting on your blogs (even though I do read them still), and for any other conscious and unconscious transgressions I may have committed.

I'm going to try to do some year-end house cleaning and get things caught up, just in case anyone is still out there. (At the very least, I know I can always count on Richard!) I have countless drafts and I may just go ahead and post them in their unfinished form and in their proper chronological place. Maybe. I don't know. You know how it is with me, right? Right?

Run for Your Life!

noreply@blogger.com (LisaPal) — Sun, 31 Aug 2008 03:04:00 +0000

That's the kind of thing we're hearing down here. So, we're buggin' out.

Been busy getting things and people ready. We had flights to Ft. Lauderdale, FL, but we'd be flying right into Gustav's nasty east-side outer bands and Tropical Storm Hanna's threatening that area and mucking up the scene. So, we're leaving around 3:00 AM and driving 4.5 hours east to Destin/Miramar Beach. We got the hurricane evacuation special at a really nice beachfront condo, (yes, several properties actually have such deals), so we'll have front-row seats for some tropical storm-level drama.

Actually, they expect the weather to be pretty decent over there tomorrow, at least until the late afternoon. We'll see. In any event, there are many things to do in the area (some even in bad weather) that will help keep my sensitive childrens' minds off of the bedlam. This is always my primary concern with this worrisome hurricane bullshit. That's why we ran off to Disney World last time.

As with Katrina, Rachel is very excited about our evacucation. Alex is old enough now to be very tuned in to the tragic possibilities. I have to admit, it's kind of nice to have another adult (even if he's a junior member)

This one looks like another really bad one, many are saying worse than Katrina, particularly given its approach. New Orleans will be on the evil east-side of the eye, where the meanest winds rage and the heaviest rainfall occurs. With a projected storm surge of 20-25 feet (last I heard), the West Bank of the city is assured of SERIOUS innundation and the East Bank (my side) still has its share of weaknesses in flood protection.

I'd love to sit and write more, but I've got way too many things yet to do before we drive off into the sunrise. No sleep for me tonight.

Say some prayers for the folks in New Orleans and on the South Coast tonight, and for my insane friends and neighbors who are staying, despite the STERN warnings to do otherwise. (Do it even if you don't believe in God; it certainly won't hurt anything.)

I'm sure you'll be hearing more from me before long.

NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!

noreply@blogger.com (LisaPal) — Wed, 27 Aug 2008 08:25:00 +0000

Ya hear me, Mother Nature?

I know there are other things I should have posted about by now, but this was a quick and easy one and the 2AM update of the noodles (models) was enough to kick me into gear. Should be some fun dreams tonight.

ADDENDUM: The blue line that comes up just west of the mouth of the river is the GFDL model, the one with the best performance record over the last three years. Read about all the models here.

Ode to Boy- 20 Years Old

noreply@blogger.com (LisaPal) — Mon, 14 Jul 2008 08:20:00 +0000

It was 20 years ago today -- well, technically yesterday, but because I'm still awake, it's still today for me -- that I became a mother, bringing a sweet and wonderful boy named Alex into the world. It hardly seems possible that 20 years have passed since this day.

I was working for Chef Paul Prudhomme at the time and I dutifully gave birth on July 13, Chef's birthday. I wasn't quite prepared for the fast and furious labor and delivery (under 4 hours) and it was bitter-sweet event because none of my family were there. My dad hadn't gotten over his anger over my interracial marriage (remember, this was when interracial relationships were not so commonplace) and he forbade my mother to go to the hospital when I went into labor. I had been banished from the family home since the wedding and had spoken to my mother by phone but hadn't seen her throughout the pregnancy until the ninth month. My sister lived out of town and came to the hospital the next day, saving me from the utter despair of feeling completely abandoned by my family at the time when my own new family was taking form.

It took about three months of my mothers constant urging before Dad relented and released me from exile. I was so proud of Willie on that day when we went to my parents' house for the first time after Alex's birth. Willie could have been bitter and resentful; he could have been cold and aloof and it would have been well warranted. I'm sure my dad knew this and was probably a little uneasy about the visit. But instead Willie walked in with his head held high, hugged my mother hello (they were always on good terms), then walked over to my dad with a smile, and firm handshake and a warm greeting. My dad was completely disarmed. They both relaxed, conversation ensued, they watched a Saints game together, and by the end of the afternoon they were like old friends. And on that day my dad fell in love with the baby Alex, just as the rest of the family had. Just as I had on July 13, 1988.

In so many ways, Alex is everything I hoped he's be. He's independent, smart, sensitive, funny, loving, and he's his own person in every way. He's never been in any kind of trouble and it's been a great comfort to feel I can always trust his judgment.

We didn't spend this day together because he had plans with friends and I missed him, but we'll celebrate tomorrow.

So the number 13 is a very lucky one for me. Doubly lucky, because I gave birth to a wonderful son on July 13th and 8 years later, I gave birth to a daughter on August 13th. Who can argue with that?

Thanks, Alex, for your love and your light and for coming and changing the world in many beautiful ways.
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NOTE: It must be a special day because not only did I post something here, I posted a whole bunch more pictures of Alex past and present on Flicker tonight, too.

T'is the Season (Letters, we get letters...)

noreply@blogger.com (LisaPal) — Sat, 10 May 2008 07:19:00 +0000

It's the end of the semester, that bright moment in the term when students suddenly remember that they have some stake in the outcome of the course and now they believe it's the professor's responsibility to make it all right for them. Just ask Michael Homan, The Angry Professor, (I could have used her response [second link] for a dozen letters), or read a couple of mine from this semester. Feel free to craft a snarky response in the comments.

I don't want to interrupt the fine prose with a bunch of "[sic]s" so here you go:

Dear professor I am _______ from your (Principles of Marketing) class. I just check my grade and I have the grade of 65%. I am an international student, therefore I have trouble with reading especially in analysizing case as in marketing quesstion. I am gona have a big trouble if I can not get a C for this class. I have to get at least a C to be accepted by MBA. I will be very appreciate if you would consider my case and give me C for this class. I am so worry now to retake it, this is really a big trouble for me. I hope that you would consider my grade. Thank you so much!

And this one...

Hello my name is ________ and I am in your Marketing class on Tuesday nights. I'm not emailing you to complain about my final grade, but I see that you didn't put it on WebStar yet. I'm very happy I passed the class with a 60. I don't know how my attendance is going to be. Whether it will bring my average up or down. I would appreciate it extremely if you don't fail me if my attendance is going to bring my 60 lower. Please email me as soon as possible. Thank you and have a great day!

I'm so glad he's thrilled with the lowest D possible, but he's going to be pretty bummed out when he realizes that test are only 90% of the final. But I do intend to have a great day!

60! WOW! Happy Birthday, Big Brother.

noreply@blogger.com (LisaPal) — Mon, 28 Apr 2008 20:22:00 +0000

60! WOW! Happy Birthday, Big Brother.
Originally uploaded by LisaPal.

He's taking the milestone pretty well. But I think my mom's having a hella time with the idea that she has a 60 year-old kid.

And here's a reiteration of last night's BIG Happy Birthday wishes to Hana Morris. For the sake of reference, (in case you didn't read the last post), Hana is the widow of Ashley Morris, but I don't want to refer to her in that way any more, because she was not just Ashley's wife. She and I had a brief discussion about this last night and she understands that it may not have been easy for some of us to really get to know her behind the stellar presence of The Big Man. Hana's ready for us to get to know her as she embarks on this new phase in life and she'll continue to share herself with us through Ashley's blog.

Hana and the children still need our help, so please consider making a donation to the fund to help the family.

Thanks.

Because I Feel Like It

noreply@blogger.com (LisaPal) — Sat, 26 Apr 2008 10:40:00 +0000

My First-Born and His Mom
Originally uploaded by LisaPal.

That's why I am posting this picture of my first-born son with his mom.

Single Parenthood is a Tough Gig

noreply@blogger.com (LisaPal) — Wed, 09 Apr 2008 22:29:00 +0000

Cellphone pic I snapped of the adorable Morris kids
before we piled in the van with them for last year's Proteus parade.

I've publicly marveled out loud and on this blog at how my blog friends seem to get so much done all the time. You guys are here, there and everywhere, doing this and that, saving the city and the world and writing about it all, often in multiple posts per day. I feel like such a slacker because I barely seem to manage to respond to comments here on my own blog, much less to comment elsewhere or squeeze out any new posts of my own on any regular basis. Then one day it occurred to me that I was the only one of us I knew of who was a single parent. Parenting a-deux it a tough enough job as it is - just ask anyone raising kids. But doing it solo is a whole other ballgame. As the single parent of two, I know. What I do not know and cannot imagine is having to singlehandedly raise three small children. And this is what Hana, the widow of our beloved Ashley Morris, faces right now. She needs our help.

Please do what you can for Hana and the Morris children by making a donation at the Remember Ashley Morris website.

Get to know a little more about Hana, AKA Soviet Block with the Big Easy Rollergirls, and read a beautiful tribute here . (Please do read it!)

In fact, just click on down through the links under "Real and Honorary New Orleanians" in the sidebar and you'll see just how special and important Ashley was to us. I have more to say about this, but I have kids to attend to now.

The New Orleans Blogosphere Mourns a Devastating Loss with the Death of Ashley Morris

noreply@blogger.com (LisaPal) — Thu, 03 Apr 2008 06:28:00 +0000

Ashley Morris, PhD

Yesterday, New Orleans lost a piece of its soul with the passing of our beloved Ashley Morris. I am so stunned and brokenhearted right now that I'm finding it difficult to find words, but I have to write this now, before the full blow of this painful reality hits me.

Ashley was not just some guy with a blog. Far from it. From Greg Peters of Suspect Device:

Different bloggers take on different roles, sometimes — most of the time — by accident. The NOLA bloggers, rising in response to an unimaginable tragedy, quickly found themselves steering different parts of the beast, if I can mix my metaphors. There’s the head, the brains, the analysts like Oyster & Matt McBride and Tim Ruppert; the soul — poets like Mark Folse, philosophers like Michael Homan — and the guts, the workers like Karen Gadbois and the Zombie.

Ashley was fire. Ashley was the furnace where the rage was forged, where the steam pressure built, where raw anger began its conversion to power and motion.

He was not a one-sided man, by any stretch of the imagination. He was intolerably funny. Talented. A father. All of that. Not an angry person except when driven to it.

Thank you, Ashley, for so much. Thank you for giving our anger a voice and for standing up for this city and its children whenever anyone dared disparage us. Thank you for your unfailing love for this place, a love so deep that when New Orleans was beaten and bloodied, her cries called you home and you answered, even though it meant commuting to and from Chicago every week to teach y0ur classes. Thank you for making us laugh. Thank you for helping gut my house and for bringing me into the fold of the Krewe of Pan. You were a good man. I am truly honored to have been your friend.

You will always be a part of us. Always. But it just won't be the same here without you.

Rest in peace, Ash.
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Ashley leaves behind a wife and three young children. Please keep them in your thoughts and prayers.

Assignments I Enjoy Grading

noreply@blogger.com (LisaPal) — Fri, 28 Mar 2008 03:57:00 +0000

Because Sophmom and Yat Pundit*asked about this subject via Twitter after a comment I made....

I love my job more than I can say, but I do not like grading because I do not like judgment in general, and I want everyone to do well, but they don't always. And I hate it when students don't really care that much about learning, but I accept it, just like they accept the crappy grades they earn. On the other hand, a surprising number make it a point to tell me how much they're learning and how they now pay more attention and notice things in "the real world" and find themselves explaining things to friends and loved ones. But I digress...

Every now and then I manage to come up with some kind of assignment that's a real win-win for us all. They find it fun and interesting and it's not so much about a right/wrong thing as much as it is about thinking, and learning happens anyway.

Advertising was last topic covered in my Promotions Management class and tonight my students turned in one such assignment. I call it the What Were They Thinking? exercise. (I give this one to my Advertising classes, too.)

The short description: Students were instructed to identify an ad that they didn't understand from a strategic standpoint (content, message theme, type of appeal, creative execution, and such). They were to provide a copy of the ad along with an explanation of what it is about the ad that didn’t make sense. This allows me to assess the level of the students' understanding of advertising strategy. When they don't fully understand it, they present ads that actually do make strategic sense and I get the opportunity to address the confusion. When students really do understand it, I get truly baffling ads to add to my repository of teaching materials. And we have fun reviewing and discussing them in class.

Students can turn in print or television advertising and this semester, I gave instructions on how to download YouTube videos so that I could have a copy of any good commercials before they disappear, as they often do. And this year, I got a couple of great entries into the WTF? category, the one below from one of my Austrian students, who continue to prove to be very resourceful when it comes to finding stuff like this.

Anyone want to venture a guess on this one? Seriously.

I've got more, but none top this one.

Note to David O. (You're not undercover anymore!) Next up... I have just six words for you. (Do you really believe that's possible for me?)

*Note to Yat Pundit: Oh, rats! I've had you in my blogroll for a long time, I swear, but just realized that my omission of a quotation mark in the HTML rendered you invisible. I read you through my feed reader and didn't notice until now. Sorry! (Unfortunately, this is not the first time it's happened...)

The Pelagian Heretic Wishes You a Happy Easter

noreply@blogger.com (LisaPal) — Mon, 24 Mar 2008 02:48:00 +0000

My First Communion- Another Funny Picture Compliments of My Dad.
Originally uploaded by LisaPal.

Here's another classic picture taken by my dad that I saved for today. It expresses the attitude I've had toward organized religion in general, and Catholicism in particular, from the time I came out of the womb. While studying philosophy in college, I learned about Pelagius and thought, hey! That's me!

I had a long post all about my unwillingness as a child to suspend my ability to think logically, regardless of the coercive power of the authorities charged with my religious indoctrination, but I opted to skip it because #1) I don't think it's anything anyone hasn't heard before and #2) I don't want to provoke a religious argument with anyone who might read this, though I'm not sure that anyone who does would disagree with anything I'd say anyway.

Here's an interesting topical article from a 2004 issue ot Time Magazine to which I would have linked had I gone with the original post:
Why Did Jesus Die?

Whatever you believe, I hope you had a happy day!

Happy Purim

noreply@blogger.com (LisaPal) — Sat, 22 Mar 2008 03:19:00 +0000

There's little Rachel in preschool at the head of the line of little Queen Esthers and Junior Hamans celebrating Purim. It's my favorite PolyEsther shot.

Hamantaschen makes Purimmmmm mmmm mmm good.

Five Years Gone

noreply@blogger.com (LisaPal) — Tue, 04 Mar 2008 04:47:00 +0000

Vincent Joseph Palumbo
01-11-1927 to 03-03-2003

(If you don't feel like reading all this, you might at least get a laugh out of the pictures at the end of the post.)

It was five years ago today that one of the most important people in my life left.

I've been sitting here struggling to find a good opening statement to introduce you to my father. I can't find it. So I'm just going to get to the point.

So much of who I am is because of Vincent, my dad, though I sometimes wonder how much of its inherited and how much of it is learned. I think my insatiably curious nature, my passion for learning, my love and interest in science and geography, my need/desire for a multitude of creative outlets, my natural musical proclivities and my rather keen sense of direction are innate -- and all are qualities I happen to share with my father. I also think that my dad, like me, was born to teach. Even if all of these traits are innate, inherited qualities, there's no doubt that my father helped nurture and develop them.

As a kid, I was Vincent's shadow. I went everywhere and did everything with him. I was my father's #1 fishing pal and his constant companion on every weekend outing. He made sure I was armed with field guides of every kind so I could identify whatever we encountered in the wild. I have so many great memories and stories from those outings.

One of our favorite destinations was Seller's Canal where we'd explore the marshes between the Pier 90 boat launch (on Highway 90) and Lake Catouatchie. Once we found a tiny marsh outlet blocked by a small, hand-cranked dam or lock (maybe 3 feet wide) off the bank of one of the side canals. Dad pulled our little skiff to the bank where we could climb onto the wooden platform. Dad told me to place the scoop net outside the lock while he cranked it open. As water poured through, the net became filled with minnows, grass shrimp, a few small crawfish and assorted pieces of aquatic plants. We examined the load more closely and found the most beautiful blue-topped minnows we'd ever seen, plus a handful of baby largemouth bass and perch. We filled a bucket with water and dumped them in. I remember finding the blue minnows in my field guide and we fished with some and caught largemouth bass like crazy. We took the remaining bucket of critters home and Dad set up a fabulous aquarium for me. I had fun teasing the bass to open his big mouth for the tiny harmless "lures" I made from melting bright-colored plastic on my Mattel "Jillions of Jewels" melting plate. (If I close my eyes, I can still smell the plastic melting and feel the burn on my fingers as I prematurely poked the molds.) I raised the perch and bass until they were too big for the tank. We took them back to Seller's canal and set them free. That was so much fun. Thanks, Dad.

My dad was extremely passionate about music. He had natural musical abilities and was a great singer and dancer. When he was a kid, he had an opportunity to develop his talents when a Loyola professor heard him play trumpet and was impressed enough to offer him free lessons, but my kinda lazy and spoiled only-child daddy said that riding his bike to Loyola's campus from my grandparents' house on First Street (probably around Claiborne, but I'm not sure) was too hard. All three of us kids have the rhythm and music genes (we couldn't help it- my Mom's a pretty good singer and dancer herself), but my brother is the only one of us to make a serious go of it, for years earning his living as a drummer. (And for years, he was the only one I knew of in this town who could actually read charts.) Now he's a pro photographer, just like dad was.

Anyway, Dad was all about music and I have fond memories of being forced to listen to jazz (especially Stan Kenton) and crying with him when we were both moved by the beauty of classical pieces. As a teen, I could never get out of the house with a date because my dad would take them in his room and start playing records for them. Pretty clever of him. I'm so appreciative of all the great music he exposed me to, especially the jazz that I couldn't appreciate at the time. I certainly do now.

Even though Dad never attended college, he never stopped his pursuit of knowledge. He studied advanced mathematics, physics and chemistry on his own and invented all kinds of clever devices to make his work in the darkroom easier. Dad loved to tinker with electronics in particular and to this day, I am still the only kid I know who had her own low-power FM radio station. I think my broadcast range covered a radius of about a two blocks. I know my grandparents had clear reception a half block down. I'm told my broadcasts were quite amusing, but I don't remember very much about them. Dad also loved maps and made sure I had plenty of them around and knew how to read them. I had them on the walls of my room and I would study them for hours on end. I can still get lost in a good map pretty easily.

I often wonder who I would be right now if my curiosity and love of learning had not been encouraged and nurtured by my father.

My dad sold electronic parts and then sold cameras at Maison Blanche and was a photographer "on the side" before it become his main source of income. I was his eager darkroom helper and his shadow on just about every photographic project. He had incredible skill in the darkroom and had an amazing eye for finding a stunning shot in a scene that most of us would pass right by. Through his eyes, I learned to see extraordinary beauty in people and places that others often miss. I've never quite been able to capture images the way he could, but my brother has and continues to make my dad proud.

(Click the images above to see a 1991 promotional piece from Darkroom Techniques magazine featuring my dad. The magazine, like the darkroom, has disappeared.)

My dad gave me so many unique experiences that I don't think most kids had. And fortunately, he gave us all lots of laughs, too. He was a practical joker and King of the Play-on-Words. My siblings inherited their quick wit from him and I wish I could claim some of that territory, but I can only appreciate it more than I can generate it. And even though Daddy is gone, he left some laughs behind for us, probably without the intention to do so.

Dad had a fantasy of being a photojournalist for National Geographic, but I don't think he had any clue how to ever pursue something like that. So, he indulged this fantasy by fabricating his own version of some other place and time. Apparently, it didn't matter to him if the outcome appeared believable or not and I'm thankful for that, because how many kids have pictures of themselves like these? (The Jungle Girl theme was popular, but I saved my favorite for last.)

The famous Mexican Peasant Girl photo, a family favorite.
Burlap, Grandma's crocheted poncho and the sombrero from Mom and Dad's trip to Mexico in 1965.
Note the penny loafers.

Jungle Girl- Pacific Island Version.
I think I'm supposed to be looking at a shell.

Little, Wild Jungle Girl
I look more candid and pensive in the rest of this series, but I like the little smile in this one.
(They keep the lawn and the ligustrums pretty nicely manicured in that jungle, huh?)

Jungle Girl Gathering Kindling
(???)

OMG! It's a Little Hippy Girl!
The siblings are shocked!
I wish I still had those glasses.

And my personal favorite:

Little Hippy Girl with Cigarette Playing Guitar
Note the bongos and big, paper flowers, and those crocheted toe-ring anklet my grandma made for me.
Give Dad credit for his attention to detail!

One day I'll have to find and scan the super-cool staged shot of my sister "sneaking a smoke." I think she's bout six years old in that photo. Because it was not shot in a studio, it's actually more believable (despite how young she is).

Thanks, Dad, for everything. I love you and miss you.

Krewe du Vieux 2008

noreply@blogger.com (LisaPal) — Fri, 25 Jan 2008 09:33:00 +0000

Krewe du Vieux 2008
Originally uploaded by M Styborski.

I had a BLAST!

Thanks for having me, Krewe du Vieux and Krewe of PAN! I am honored and can't wait to do it again. It was an appropriate beginning, as I drank the Koolaid a long time ago and am a member of the Cult of Lafcadio to the core.

I just hope next year won't be quite as cold. (I can't remember the last time it wasn't cold for KdV.) I was fine and happy on the route with a brass band to keep me moving (how could I not be?), but it took me two days to warm back up after the party.

There are lots of fine pictures for your perusal in the KdV pool on Flickr and more bloggers in the parade than I can count. Among them were my fellow PAN-folk Ashley and Adrastos and their spouses, and in other krewes were Dangerblond, Maitri, Mark, Karen, Slate, Humid Haney, Hammhawk, and Ray pinch-hitting in the KdV Escort Service. (If I forgot you, please forgive me!)

Now, there's only one question. Can we slow the mules down next time? I heard and read lots of comments about how fast the parade flew by and I've made the same observation in the past. It must be possible because whenever I get behind one of those carriages in the French Quarter they seem to go half that speed.

NOTE: For you readers in the USA (which we're obviously not a part of) and abroad, here's a little primer on the *Not As-Seen-on-TV* Mardi Gras experience. Link: A Parade of One's Own: Marching to the Beat of Carnival's Fringe Groups. Kind of like Festivus, it's Carnival for the restuvus.
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Now, some good news for us:
Warmer Ocean Could Reduce Number Of Atlantic Hurricane Landfalls

And some fun:
Just don't swallow it...

Thanks, Dr.King.

noreply@blogger.com (LisaPal) — Tue, 22 Jan 2008 05:49:00 +0000

Alex's Immediate family...June 2007
Originally uploaded by LisaPal.

This was on its way to being a long post, too long for the time I have right now, so I just want to take a moment to once again thank Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. for expanding the love in this world and in my own life.

We're not quite there yet, Dr.King, but we have come a long way. And I still have great faith that "we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood."

PHOTO NOTE: This photo of me, my daughter, my son and his father was taken last summer at my former mother-in-law's 85th birthday party. A couple of people have nervously asked me if Rachel is WIllie's daughter, so I shouldn't assume that the answer is as obvious. She is not. Willie and I had been long separated and divorced when she was born. But Rachel and I are still considered very much a part of Willie's wonderful extended family.

Tonight I Do the Krewe du Vieux. (Not that way!)

noreply@blogger.com (LisaPal) — Sat, 19 Jan 2008 20:23:00 +0000

PAN Poster 2008
Originally uploaded by adrastosno.

After a handful of stints as an "undocumented marcher" in the Krewe du Vieux during the early 1990s, I am at long last a naturalized member.

It started with the debut of the Mystic Corpse of Comatose in 1991. The krewe was formed in response to the old-line carnival organizations' response to Dorothy Mae Taylor's Mardi Gras Ordinance. I'm not sure if this krewe was actually official at that time, but our proclamation based on the old-line krewes' reactiont to the ordinance is a real classic. I dressed as Miss Piggy Wilson, in honor of the old-line krewes' closest ally on the city council.

After that, I was part of the original Krewe du Jieux (that's pronounced "Jew" for you foreigners), which formed out of the New Orleans Klezmer Allstars entourage. I was managing this band back then and if you get your hands on the first CD, look inside and you'll see a tiny picture of me dressed as a hassdic guy, complete with beard and payos (side curls).

So tonight I make my official KdV debut with the Krewe of PAN, which I am delighted to report has the absolute most esoteric theme of any sub-krewe. Fellow krewe members have taken care of the important details for me. Adrastos explains PAN's theme in this post and Ashley gives a lesson on how to identify a relevant carnival krewe.

I'm looking forward to hitting the streets tonight with these fellow blogging PAN members and their wives and the gaggle of other NOLA bloggers in other sub-krewes. (Ashley links to some in his post.)

If you're local, dress warmly and come see us!

Oh, and I'll respond to those comments in the last post soon. (And no, I cannot define "soon" with any accuracy right now. Sorry.)

Happy New Year! 2008

noreply@blogger.com (LisaPal) — Wed, 02 Jan 2008 12:41:00 +0000

Happy New Year! 2008
Originally uploaded by LisaPal.

Our magic hats kept is safe from falling bullets.

Actually, this is one of the few irrational fears I have, but less so out here at Mom's. (And yes, I do know that aluminum colanders and pots will not protect anyone from falling bullets.) I'm thankful that no one was killed or injured this year, unlike in years past,

Too tired right now, so I'll have to finish this tomorrow...

Stand By.

2007 Year End House Cleaning

noreply@blogger.com (LisaPal) — Tue, 01 Jan 2008 01:41:00 +0000

Now that this one's almost history, I've decided to do a little tidying up around here, I added some links to the blog roll (and probably still have a bunch I've missed), I've cleaned the sidebar up some, I added a Flickr badge, (and am working to get the rest of this year's select pics uploaded there), and I updated the Irks and Delights picture for the first time since 2004.

Here are a few of the things that I never got around to blogging in the last year:

Work: After 5 years of teaching as an adjunct, I was given a full-time position, but with only a one-year contract and at salary that turned out to be $5,000 less than I was initially told it would be. But I do have insurance now. Say a prayer that my contract will be renewed for Fall 2008. I hoped to be back in school by then, working on a PhD, but I just don't see how I can taken that on when I'm still trying to get the house fixed and us moved back in.

Otherwise, I can honestly say that love my job and my students have been great this year. Really, really great.

Home: Our fight with State Farm over wind damage ended when it was discovered that I'd been underpaid for the damage that the company did acknowledge and the difference would put the claim over the policy limit. So, no compensation for the foundation. We still haven't settled on Additional Living Expenses (ALE): State Farm has paid zero, despite the fact that we haven't been able to live in the house since the Storm.

If the pain of being screwed by contractor Rick Ford wasn't enough, I just found out that the subcontractor hired by Davies Shoring to fix the foundation did a half-assed job and did several things wrong. It was never permitted or inspected and now I know how they managed to do a job they said would take two weeks, in a day and a half. I've been getting the run around from them and no one will return my calls.

Things are looking up, however, as Morwen (aka Gentilly Girl) and Betty have put their contractor on the case and I'm feeling more optimistic than I have in a long time. This optimism scares me a little because I really don't think I can take any more crashing disappointments with this house thing.

Everything Else:

The kids are doing well. I can't believe I have one in college now. Alex is at UNO and had a pretty typical first semester as a freshman. I'm still haven't adjusted to paying tuition, though. As difficult as it may be to believe, UNO faculty get no tuition wavers for their offspring. Thanks to Katrina, my son missed a TOPS scholarship by 12/100 of a point, so I'm paying for him to attend the university that employs me. The university senate recently voted to add this benefit and I'm hoping it will be a reality by next fall. Meanwhile, Alex continues to work the counter at Croissant d'Or on the weekends and because of that, he's been spending a lot more time with his dad this year and that's good for both of them. (It's easier for him to get to work from his dad's house, but on school days he's with me.)

At 11 years old, Rachel is rolling headlong into puberty and seems to be growing an inch a day. Her legs are about as long as mine now, and eventually the rest of her body will grow into them. (I remember being 75% legs around the same age.) She's still my #1 sidekick and a happy child, all full of love and life.

Renard is also doing well and it looks as if he is really, truly finished messing around with his first solo CD and will get it to press in the next couple of months. (It still needs graphics and mastering.) We've been waiting a long time for this one, folks, but once it's out, it will have been well worth the wait. He plays every instrument on it but saxophone and has done a really fine job with the recording and mixing. The production work is truly impressive, and I'm not just saying that because I'm his girlfriend. Just wait. You'll see.

And speaking of Renard, tonight is the 6th anniversary of our first date, which came after about 20 years of friendship. The relationship was worth the wait, too. We've had our share of rough spots, but we seem to have gotten much better at all this in the last couple of years and have been really happy since The Storm. (At least there's one thing I can say is better since Katrina.)

I suppose I covered everything else that merited coverage in other posts throughout the year. I hope that with the new year this blog will revert to something more akin of what it was before August 29, 2005. I think I enjoyed it much more then.

Adios 2007. Like your predecessors, you taught me a lot, some things that I'd rather not have had to learn, but all things of value, nonetheless. For all of it --the people and experiences that brought me love and lessons in the last year-- I express a heartfelt thank you.

Ice, Crack...It seemed to make sense at the time.

noreply@blogger.com (LisaPal) — Fri, 07 Dec 2007 08:44:00 +0000

For the Unfortunate Product/Packaging Decisions file:
Sugary Candy Looks Too Much Like Street Drugs, Cops Say.
Story via the 23/6 News.

I have to wonder if this was someone's idea of a joke that went too far or if they just hired some "heads" in the packaging design department. Hey! They call crystal meth "ice." Ice cracks. Crack and ice come in little baggies. Yeah. Let's put this new, powdery Ice Breakers candy in something that looks like a crack bag. Heh, heh. I said crack. Heh, heh, heh.

In the photo: something illegal on the left, Hershey's Ice Breakers Pacs on the right.

This reminds me of the one time that picking up trash outside my house proved fortuitous for my students. My house is on a corner a block away from one of those corner stores where commerce takes place inside and out. One of the many unfortunate results of this activity is the commercial and contraband trash that ends up on the ground in a two block radius of the store. A lot of time my time is spent picking it up (and I've found some truly disgusting things out there), but only once was there a payoff.

On this particularly fateful day, among the detritus I found a tiny baggie similar to the one in the picture on the left, but with a little marijuana leaf on it. (Though, clearly it was not marijuana that had been in the bag.) A scene began to play out in my head of a marketing department meeting in the corporate offices of some plastics manufacturer. When the subject of product development comes up, some young upstart proposes targeting the illegal drug trade segment. The idea of the putting an image of a crack pipe on the bag is dismissed over the more universally embraced marijuana leaf. The company decides to list the product under Retailer and Dealer Supplies.

I stuck the baggie in my pocket and pulled it out that night in my Principles class when we talked about market segmentation. Feedback indicated that the example was a huge success and the students really got it. (And for some reason, marketing segmentation generally is not *gotten* easily.)

I considered saving the baggie for use in future classes but couldn't figure out how to store it without the risk of someone finding it and getting the wrong idea. I guess I could have sent a notice to everyone in my department saying, "I wish to go on the record that I have an empty crack bag in my office. I found it on the ground outside my house. It's a great and memorable classroom prop for explaining market segmentation. Please don't judge me too harshly."

Dear Fall 2007 Students, Thanks for not doing stuff like this.

noreply@blogger.com (LisaPal) — Fri, 30 Nov 2007 08:56:00 +0000

The fall semester of the year 2006S was the record-breaker for imbecility. My favorite example is pictured at right. The student handed it to me and nonchalantly walked away. I glanced at it, immediately called him back in, handed him the paper and gave him the "what the hell is this?" look. He looked at the paper, then back at me and asked me what the problem was. I asked if he was kidding. But he wasn't. When I pointed out that he'd turned in a paper, single spaced and written in all caps, he told me that he hadn't noticed it followed by a George Costanza-esque was I not supposed to do that? Was that wrong? I won't even get into the content of the paper.

Oh, and there are more stories, some much worse.

I was so wrung out by the students of Fall 2006S that I went ahead and scheduled a surgery I needed just for the temporary chemical lobotomy. It didn't last long enough.

This fall has been so different. My students have been incredibly great. The greatest. Really! And apparently I'm not the only one enjoying the reprieve from idiocy.

What's happening here? Is my evil plan working?

LONG OVERDUE: Local Bloggers in the Media

noreply@blogger.com (LisaPal) — Mon, 19 Nov 2007 10:01:00 +0000

Yes, that would include me. And yes, I should have posted this a LONG time ago. I'll spare you all the excuses.

Maybe some of you NOLA bloggers remember the guys from an ABC news affiliate in Santa Barbara, CA who came and filmed the goings-on during Rising Tide 2007. It aired in the week after the two-year anniversary of The Storm and reporter Kevin Davis was kind enough to post the segments that aired on KEYT along with some of the raw footage.

I was recruited for this report on the Rising Tide volunteer day when we were painting A.P. Tureaud School. My segment appears in Part 1. Bloggers Ray Shea and Ana Maria appear in Part 2. Ana Maria also featured these videos in a Daily Kos Diary post.

So, here you go:

Part 1:

Part 2: (My favorite moment is Ray's reaction to the mention of FEMA.)

KEYT anchor interviews Kevin regarding his experiences in New Orleans: (I wish he would have included my piece about how everyone is being screwed by contractors, especially since a caller brought it up.)

Here's Part 1 of the raw footage filmed at my house. I was horrified to see what appears to be the ass of a 45 year old woman on what actually appears to be me. Oh, the burden of vanity! (And yes, I am 45, but that's beside the point.) I think I've lost a few of those post-Katrina pounds since August, but maybe I've really just gotten used to them.

Here's Part 2 of the raw footage. In this part I tell the rest of the story (that I never got around to posting) of what happened with my insurance claim as it relates to the racking of my house.

As my claim with State Farm goes, the damage exceeds my policy limits (which I thought were adequate since State Farm adjusts them upward every year), and I still haven't been paid everything I'm due on contents and I've been paid nothing for Additional Living Expenses (ALE), despite the fact that we haven't been able to live in the house since the storm. My attorney is still on the case to collect this as well as the accumulated depreciation that's being withheld. I'm still tens of thousands of dollars short of what I'll need when it's all said and done and who knows what kind of help, if any, the Road Home will be. I've only had the initial meeting so far.

Here's some unsolicited advice to all you homeowners out there, and I'm not just talking about you folks in New Orleans. Check your insurance policy's limits. Make sure you have enough coverage to rebuild your home based on today's costs, and get a policy with provisions for a situation where widespread destruction could cause construction prices to become inflated. (Or you may be surprised to find yourself underinsured.) Consider the fact you may need a lawyer to fight for what you're due, but that may cost you from 25%-40% of whatever is recovered and that's money you'll need to rebuild. (All of this may be next to impossible for the middle-class citizen of New Orleans, where the cost of adequate homeowners and flood insurance plus the new property tax assessments may more than double your monthly mortgage payment.)

Please check out the other interview footage posted on Kevin Davis's YouTube page. There's some interesting stuff over there. (And thanks again, Kevin, for telling our stories.)