Accordion updates and the weekend.

Oh so many weekend funtimes. Pictures will follow soon enough.

So I went to this Mr. "Sunpie's" house alone at seven PM on Wednesday. Probably not a smart idea, but everyone at Ashe seems to know and love him, so I didn't think he was a dangerous fellow. Plus, he lives in a really nice house in a really nice neighborhood. His house was sparsely decorated, but full of instruments. He sat me down and gave me an hour and a half long lesson. The accordion is hard, yet not, it seems. It works a lot like a piano. Since I have a long history with the piano, it was pretty comprehensible. It's also interesting that the mechanics are a lot like a harmonica, and the buttons on the left side are, for the most part, in the same arrangement as an autoharp. Instrument-dabbling definitely has its advantages. (: Sunpie proceeded to tell me that I was a quick-study, and that I could hang on to his spare accordion for a few days to see if I still wanted to pursue it. "Most people don't stick with it," he said. I don't really want to disappoint him. I tried to pay him. He looked like he might've taken the money, but he finally said, "Just don't steal my accordion and make a little progress while you have it. I'll be happy then."

So Bruce "Sunpie" Barnes' accordion and I have made fine friends. I thought my incessant honking on it would irritate my housemates, but they tell me they love it. I've spent most of my time doing Decemberists covers. "Mariner's Revenge Song" anyone? There will be a video posted soon. It's impossible not to chronicle the epic accordion-ness of it all. Plus, I feel like I should give it back soon. I'm not sure what "a few days" means, but I think a week is pushing it. Still, I think I'm going to ask him if he knows of a cheap-ish one I can purchase. I'm addicted.

In other news, Jeanne from the program came to visit us. I was unfortunately battling the stomach flu when she came to our work, but she did take us out to eat, and I managed to nibble on some solid food. It was good to see her, and good to hear updates and what-not. Robertson dinners are always epic, especially in conversation. One side of the table was talking about economics and Rush Limbaugh, while the other side was debating the legality of assisted suicide. Oh, Robbies.

Tonight, I decided to explore a little. I set out in my car at dusk with no plans, other than a vague desire to drink some coffee. As I was driving, I decided I was also in the mood to look at the Mississippi river, so I drove in the direction of the French Quarter, got a cup of coffee from Cafe Du Monde and made my way to the riverwalk, which was largely deserted. I was hesitant to stay, since I was alone, and it was dark, and I felt like a target sitting on a park bench under a street light, but instead of leaving, I climbed down the bank amidst the chunks of rock and concrete and found a cozy enough perch and stared at the river. It was so beautiful. I had a perfect view of the lit up bridge and the West Bank. The sky was purple, and a river boat was pulling in to port. Its steam whistle sounded like a calliope. I sat there for a good thirty minutes, then realized I was not alone. The smell of cigarettes allerted me to a few homeless men dotting the bank, taking drags off of Pall Malls and drinking beer from paper bags, watching the scene. Huddled in my black members only jacket with a cup in my hand, I suppose I fit in well enough. So, we sat in amicable silence, watching the water and the lights, listening to the boats and the sounds of horses hooves on Decatur, and the squeaking. It wasn't until several minutes later that I realized what the squeaking was. As I was beginning to connect the sound with its source, a rather plump rat trotted by close to my feet. Though the view was nice, I decided it was not worth the plague. So, I scrambled back up the bank and headed off down the riverwalk to my car. As I was leaving one of my human riverbank companions told me I had a sad look in my eyes and reminded me, "Life's not all that bad, darling. Sure there are hard times. I think we both know that. But life is really quite a lovely thing." He's right. I told him thank you and wished him a good evening. I think that was one of my favorite New Orleans experiences thus far.

Pictures to come soon.

Needing sleep to wake up for work tomorrow,
Jess