Monday, June 21, 2004
lost in louisiana
well, not yet, but it's only 8:00 am and I am always an optimist.
Yesterday, the Wife and I left The Boy in the loving care of The Nurse for a five day trip to New Orleans. Officially, I'm here on business. I won a kind of bet or dare with my school principal, "If you submit a proposal and it gets accepted, I'll find a way to send you."
Well, what else could I do? I was challenged. My honor was at stake.
My proposal was one of a couple hundred selected out of around 1800 entries for a presentation at a national conference on education and technology.
Yes, my dear reader, you are correct, I do in fact, kick ass. At least as an educator of kids with significant disabilities.
And we get an almost all expenses paid six months belated honeymoon in New Orleans.
This is my first trip to New Orleans. I think it best that I did not come here earlier in life. I would not have left. As a younger man, the lure of the hedonistic excesses would have easily overwhelmed my tenuosu grasp of reality and my fragile sense of responsibility.
Now I have thoughts of The Boy and The Wife to help keep me a little more grounded in reality.
Bourbon street. One block from our hotel. I've never seen such a concentrated area of strip clubs, blues clubs and cheezy daquiri bars in one place before. I've never imagined such places existed. I only half-way imagined such places, as a devout and pious pilgrim imagines Heaven.
The conference is about to begin, I'm nursing a slight hangover with a three fucking dollar cup of coffee. I got go do some professional schmoozing and see how much free crap I can collect from the giant exhibit hall full of vendors peddling their wares.
And damnit, I'm in freaking New Orleans! I've been up for about an hour and a half and I haven't had a drink yet. (And that's exactly the reason why I should not have come here earlier in life.)
more as time permits. . .
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Yesterday, the Wife and I left The Boy in the loving care of The Nurse for a five day trip to New Orleans. Officially, I'm here on business. I won a kind of bet or dare with my school principal, "If you submit a proposal and it gets accepted, I'll find a way to send you."
Well, what else could I do? I was challenged. My honor was at stake.
My proposal was one of a couple hundred selected out of around 1800 entries for a presentation at a national conference on education and technology.
Yes, my dear reader, you are correct, I do in fact, kick ass. At least as an educator of kids with significant disabilities.
And we get an almost all expenses paid six months belated honeymoon in New Orleans.
This is my first trip to New Orleans. I think it best that I did not come here earlier in life. I would not have left. As a younger man, the lure of the hedonistic excesses would have easily overwhelmed my tenuosu grasp of reality and my fragile sense of responsibility.
Now I have thoughts of The Boy and The Wife to help keep me a little more grounded in reality.
Bourbon street. One block from our hotel. I've never seen such a concentrated area of strip clubs, blues clubs and cheezy daquiri bars in one place before. I've never imagined such places existed. I only half-way imagined such places, as a devout and pious pilgrim imagines Heaven.
The conference is about to begin, I'm nursing a slight hangover with a three fucking dollar cup of coffee. I got go do some professional schmoozing and see how much free crap I can collect from the giant exhibit hall full of vendors peddling their wares.
And damnit, I'm in freaking New Orleans! I've been up for about an hour and a half and I haven't had a drink yet. (And that's exactly the reason why I should not have come here earlier in life.)
more as time permits. . .
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