The first thing I did was call everybody I know in New Orleans. Networking has always served me well, and I firmly believe in the six degrees of separation method of meeting people and getting things done. I spent the first 23 years of my life in this region, and I can’t believe how many people I still know. Family and high school friends. Loyola friends. And friends that I’ve made during my visits home over the past 20 years. Every single person has hooked me up in some shape or form. Every person that I meet on the street has hooked me up. I forgot what Southern hospitality is all about.
Getting used to the pace of life here has been a challenge. Everything works at a much slower pace in the Big Easy. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, although I would have told you differently had you asked me two weeks ago. I hadn’t realized that we pretty much worked all the time in London and that our life was moving at a million miles an hour. We did not stop and smell the roses.
Two nights ago, Frank took us to Elizabeth’s for dinner (yes, they are now open for dinner). We took two hours to eat our wonderful meal of stuffed mirleton, collard greens and green beans. Patrick had boudin balls for the first time, and I think this is his new favorite food. They keep trying to slip meat past me. The collard greens had small bits of spicy cured ham. I thought about it for about .007836 seconds then chowed down. So far so good. My butt hasn’t exploded yet. The food was to die for. The staff was kooky. The oil cloth table cloths were just like the one my grandma had on her kitchen table. But, I digress. My point was, we are learning how to take it easy.
