Month: March 2015

A few days ago, I went as a guest of the Alabama Folklife Association with other friends to the installation of Kathryn Tucker Windham to the Alabama Women’s Hall of Fame at Judson College.  First of all, what an honor to be there among all those other sons and daughters of Alabama.

In fact, when there was a little technical glitch at the very beginning of the event, Dr. David Potts, the President at Judson, got up and did this impromptu about what does this (stellar) woman have to do with this (also stellar woman) with this (you guessed it) woman and it must have gone on for three or four minutes, rattling off astrophysicists with CEOs and back and forth and back and forth and of course what did they all have in common? Judson.  Which I think probably made us all wish we had been daughters of Judson.

But what we were all happy to have been was connected in some way with the great Kathryn Tucker Windham.  I have a few little stories (my favorite being once when she introduced herself to me and I explained sweetly that ohmygosh, it’s so sweet you would do that when every second grader in Alabama knows who you are).  No one that’s ever graced the cover of any checkout aisle magazine has mattered one whit to me: KTW was/is my kind of celebrity.

We took Shug to meet her when he was a baby, in 2008.

We all laughed when Norton Dill got up and spoke about doing a documentary on her, and how frankly hilarious and touching her funeral was.  It was so emotional when Dilcy and Ben, her children, came up to unveil her memorial plaque for the Hall of Fame.  And next, when we all sang Alabama together, you know me.  I cried.

Although I do have to break and take a moment here and mention that in middle school, when we all sang Alabama at every school assembly, we only did the first verse and it never dawned on me that in the second verse the lyrics go ‘Goodlier than the land that Moses climbed lone Nebo’s Mount to see…’.

(Alabama is even better than when Moses went atop Mount Nebo to see the Land of Israel?)

Reminded me of how the last thing said at my wedding was a pronouncement of marriage according to the Laws of Moses and the State of Alabama.  Which sounded funny.

One last little treat: the luncheon, served on Judson’s own Staffordshire:

Loved being there with ‘my people’ — seeing friends from all over the state and making new ones — and I don’t want to ever miss another AWHoF installation.

I’m in the middle of filling out the form to nominate someone for next time: Miss Alice.  Yes, yes, yes.

Had to stop for this one: the Bank of Erath in Erath, Louisiana:

This, at Jungle Gardens on Avery Island, Louisiana. Magic.

The gardens were developed by Edward Avery ‘Ned’ McIlhenny, the son of the inventor of Tabasco sauce.  The Tabasco factory (and store) are here in the area, but you’d never know it once you’ve entered the gardens:

This building was constructed to house a buddha that is ~1000 years old.  Legend has it that it had been shipped to a NYC warehouse in the 1920s by a Chinese warlord, and had sat unclaimed until 1936 when two of Ned’s friends bought it and sent it to him as a surprise.

Av and I had just been talking about Charles Hoffacker’s art when he happened to visit Treo in New Orleans on Tulane Avenue with some friends.  He knew I’d be happy when he sent me these pics of Hoffacker’s ‘Ghost of Telly Hankton‘ (if you’re interested in seeing it, call and make sure it’s still on display).

The work was completed in 2012, is 42″ x 56.5″, made up of .40 cal spent rounds on a plywood base, finished with oxidation chemicals and polish.  It was being offered at $14k.

The artist was in the news last summer as part of an investigation into a complaint that was made, alleging that he used a murder victim’s blood to write a message at the crime scene.  His lawyer noted that the case was blown out of proportion, that the crime scene wasn’t compromised and the victim had long been moved from the scene.

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Next month Treo is having a month-long ‘ArtPolice’ show, with opening reception:
Come for the opening reception of this New Orleans Police Officer exhibition…there will be complimentary libations.

Join him and fellow officers , Liz Garcia, M NOLA Rolla Watson and James ” Pepe” Martin and help raise money for the 1st district.

BPOML.
Best pizza of my life.
NOLA, It’s one of Emeril’s restaurants (though from what I understand he’s there only a few times a year.  As in a very few.) there on St. Louis in the Quarter.

I first had supper there probably fifteen years ago, and besides loving the super-attentive service, my friends and I weren’t especially impressed with the food.  So all this time, I just haven’t gone out of my way to go back to it…however, I noticed they are open for lunch on Thursdays.  The thinking was that even if it isn’t great, I’ll be paying lunch prices and it won’t be as heartbreaking as a disappointing supper.  Lunch here was a great decision — and there was zero disappointment.

I sat at the bar, snacked on some bread, and had a great conversation with the chef that was running the brick oven. Since I liked him so much, I decided to choose something we could chat about while it was cooked right in front of my practically — so I set on the duck confit pizza with fried egg, truffle oil, parmesan, and arugula.

The crust was amazing. The duck was…well, it was duck confit so you know that’s amazing…and then there’s that yummy runny yolk from the egg mixed with the oil and the cheese and the fresh bite of the arugula. Perfection. BPOML. Yes.  Yes.