Mrs. Rogue's Day Off

Now that most of you (the constructive, employed members of society) are back at work after your Labor Day holiday, I thought it a good time to fill you in on Mrs. Rogue's Holiday weekend activities. Ella has been in the retail business since we moved to New Orleans. She is responsible for selling lighting fixtures. That may sound like glitz and glamor to you, but let me tell you, it's not nearly as flashy as it seems. She slaves away there, six days a week, ensuring that the Greater New Orleans area is well lit.

Last Friday, she needed a break. She woke up with her alarm at 6:30, poured herself a cup of coffee and called her boss. "Bossman," she said (she wasn't being rude, that's just his last name, Bossman). "I'm not coming in today."

"Are you sick?" he replied, not so much worried about her health as contamination. Mr. Bossman is a bit of hypochondriac. "Nope. I just need a day," Ella replied. "Make it a personal day, vacation day, whatever you need to, but I gotta recharge my batteries. You know what I mean?"

He didn't, but he implied he did. Mr. Bossman is nice that way.

Mrs. Rogue sat on the porch sipping her coffee and patting herself on the back for being brave enough to actually do what most of us want to do everyday. She finished her cup and returned to bed.

I should point out here, that the above conversation may not be word for word. It's my interpretation of what Ella told me about what actually happened. Sure, it's not the best way to record things for history, but it was like 6:30! You think I'm up that early?

Our bed is (approximately) the most comfortable place in the entire world. Its comfortablity peaks from about 6:25am until 10:45am. Scientists have been studying the location for the past three years but have been unable to quantify its magic properties. Suffice it to say that it is rather hard to leave. Mrs. Rogue made the most of her morning off and slept until about 10:30, just as the comfortability was waining. I had just gotten up to take a phone call. My boss (not named Bossman, incidentally) was calling to see if I could turn in my keys and parking card. My office was in the middle of a move and we had to turn in everything to the building management by the end of the day. By 11am, Ella was dressed and ready for the day, so I asked if she wanted to join me on my trip downtown.

The plan was that I would swing by, drop off the items in question and then we'd return home. We might take the dog for a walk, sip cocktails on the back patio, or just laze away the afternoon watching movies. However, as I made my way upstairs to turn in my keys and then returned to the car, an idea had struck me. "Why don't we go to the Aquarium?"

"Do you mean now?" Ella asked. "No, let's just sit outside for two or three hours and then go." I'm fond of sarcasm, what can I say?

"Well, where will we park?" This was something I had not considered. One of the benefits of working downtown the past few months has been always having free parking. "Isn't there parking on Esplanade?" I asked. "We could park down there, walk through the Quarter, and then see the Aquarium."

Mrs. Rogue, fresh off the high from having stolen a workday responded, "Alright, I'm in."

The Quarter is beautiful in a way that few other places in the world are. It's dingy, smells and is filled with shops that you'd smirk at if they were on main street somewhere else. But here, they fit right in. The head shops, the leather shops, the Hand Grenade (that's alcohol, not weapons) stand, they all go together (with a strong helping of jazz music and beignets) to form the French Quarter.

We strolled through the streets, stopping in to several stores Ella has been meaning to get to, but hasn't had the time. "Bottom of the Barrel Antiques" was one we'd seen fliers for and were not let down. None of it was in our price range (technically, we didn't have a range, just a strong inclination not to buy anything), but we filed it all away for future reference.

It was just after noon now, on a mild Friday afternoon. Most of the world had just gotten back from lunch and were staring at the clock counting the minutes until quitting time. Mrs. Rogue and I were being serenaded by a rousing version of "Hello Dolly" at the French Market Cafe. This is one of the reasons I love New Orleans. It's never off. I know New York is the "City that Never Sleeps" and Las Vegas is as bright as "midday at midnight," but what other city celebrates a mild Friday afternoon just as much as a Holiday? My city, that's who.

We finally did make it to the Aquarium. After hearing some of the horror stories about the losses they incurred during the hurricane and the process of relocating and then retrieving some of the animals (like the penguins), we were surprised to find it largely the same as we remembered. There were some new exhibits (the last time I visited was almost ten years ago), and a food court (I don't remember that), but the awe you feel as you walk through the tunnel in the Caribbean exhibit hasn't changed. Creation is beautiful, and the Aquarium gives you a wonderful place to see it.

One other new addition, since my last visit, is the Imax Movie Theater. Again, we hadn't planned it (aren't we impetuous) but we decided to see the "Hurricane on the Bayou" film. We'd heard over and over from other people how great it was, and we were not disappointed. No matter how much footage of Katrina and her aftermath you may have seen, every new picture still grabs you. The devastation is hard to believe. But it's not hard to believe the desire and the will to rebuild. When you live in a city as wonderful as this one, you can't help but fall in love. And when you love a city as much as the people here do, where else would you go?

Our Aquarium visit over, Mrs. Rogue and I made the trek back to Esplanade. The Quarter was a little duskier and more crowded than when we arrived. The workday was over and the city's residents were headed out to play. Ella and I headed home, smiling as music filled the air.

A day off is a good thing. Good thing she had Monday off too.