New Orleans 1981
After picking me up at the airline counter, My Dad, who incidentally resembled Grizzly Adams (which as you can imagine, might be a tad bit intimidating to a 14 year old girl) seemed to be as anxious to be meeting me, as I was to finally be meeting him. We gathered my luggage from baggage claim and made our way to the exit. The automatic sliding glass doors parted, greeting me with an intense, humid, heated embrace that enveloped me, from which there was no escape. We tried to make small talk on the drive to his home in the French Quarter. His truck was very old, white and had only an am radio. Today I would smile at it's vintage charm but I remember nearly recoiling back then, at the sight of it, making the quiet assumption that my father was relatively poor. Knowing a little about the psychology of body language now, I am positive that my Dad must have picked up on my apprehension, as I was seated as far to the right on the shared truck seat, as I could be. The outer city limits of New Orleans were admittedly impressive, brightly lit and they exuded an alluring energy. It was well after two in the morning by this time, and I stared out the window of his truck, taking in all of my surroundings.
Once we got to my Dad's, I began to feel a lot more comfortable. The drive with the windows down had cooled me off a little bit, and walking into his house sort of amazed me. First off, I had never seen architecture like that before. The ceilings were very high. The windows were pretty narrow but they were about 12 feet tall! All the walls were chalk-white, but his window trim was all painted a bright & warm, vivid yellow. No curtains. Window glass spotlessly clean. Lots of hanging plants. The furniture was very retro. But not in a "too poor to buy new stuff" type of "retro"- I was seeing "vintage classicism meets mid century modern" - with a splash of Bohemian Euro-chic over everything! :) It was different decor than I had ever seen; it was warm and inviting, but still somehow exciting but what really fascinated me, was the art! I was in awe - Everywhere I looked there was a painting. Or a portrait. Or a canvas. There were easels. And pastels, and palettes. There were sketch pads in stacks - filled!! Elaborate doodles on the phone book & on slips of paper adorning his refrigerator. Suddenly, I felt like I fit there.
My Dad put on music - he had an extensive collection. Cat Stevens, Steely Dan, Doobie Brothers, Billy Joel & The Beatles played while he whipped up an impromptu "bite to eat". The man could cook. With skillful ease & speed, he steamed broccoli in one small pot, boiled green (?!?) flat long noodles - sauteed butter - minced fresh garlic and pan seared two filet mignon. The whole thing took 10 minutes & I have never tasted anything like it since he cooked for me. He could have been a chef had he been compelled to do so, I'm sure of it.
He lit candles everywhere; we ate while listening to music at like 4am by now (?!?) and he asked tons of questions & voila! the ice was forever broken. He showed me in his art studio / dining room the loft he was nearly finished building. It was a good 8 ft. off of the ground; and approximately 8'x10'. He informed me that my bed "nook" would be up there! That way, I'd have my own space and a modicum of privacy. That felt very welcoming and thoughtful. I was relaxing more and more. We laughed when we saw that it after 5:30am - it was the latest I had ever stayed up! He made up his couch with clean sheets and pillows & said Good night.
The next "morning" (11?) I got up, showered, dressed (haha! I just remembered how cute I thought I looked!! :)) My mom had bought me these really cute dark jeans, a red french tee, and Mork & Mindi rainbow suspenders! and Dr. Scholl's wooden sandals! Remember those? Jack was still asleep and I really didn't know what to do with myself. I started drawing at one of his easels. And I experimented with his pastel chalks lying there, trying to imitate one of his portraits he had been working on... I was in 7th Heaven, very calm & drinking orange juice. When Boom!!! He walked past me quickly - stark NAKED!!!! I was mortified! I would have gladly crawled under his hardwood floors. There was no escaping this scene, at all!
We established some ground rules after that lovely incident and then planned the rest of our day. I would meet his significant other - Carol and two half brothers, Adam & Noel. They had a unique relationship - she lived with my Dad - when they felt like it. I was beginning to see that nothing here in New Orleans was anything like life as I knew it back in Ohio. But, I was excited to see more, none the less.
To be continued... ;)
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