Chekov's misery

Boner has bit the big one. Andrew Koenig, the onetime child actor from "Growing Pains," who grew up as the son of "Star Trek's" Walter Koenig, only to become a tormented 41-year-old depressive, apparently ended his own life on or around Valentine's Day. Koenig's body lay undiscovered in a remote section of Vancouver's Stanley Park for the past 10-plus days. After several days of exhaustive searching, the well-known actor who portrayed Ensign Pavel Chekov on the original Star Trek series and his wife were notified that their son's body had been found. Vancouver police have ruled out the possibility of foul play. It is another tragedy related to the inevitable consequences of unchecked depression, a disease which, if untreated, almost always leads to death or madness. The simple truth is that anyone hell-bent on dispatching himself or herself will probably do so eventually. Some people attempt suicide as a cry for help and as a mechanism for attention. Sylvia Plath had the routine down so regularly that when she figuratively stuck her head in the unlit oven, she knew just when her paid worker would arrive in time to turn off the gas and save her again. The only thing she hadn't counted on was that her helper might have missed her bus. That act of accidental tardiness proved to be fatal. It was a suicide, but one that might have just as easily been another in a series of attempted suicides. More recently, another son of an actor, David Carradine of TV's "Kung Fu" and the "Kill Bill" films carried out an autoerotic act that led to his untimely demise by suffocation. Again, it was an unintended suicide. What happened to Koenig was an entirely different matter. He suffered so much in life - perhaps because of the shadow of having to live up to his famous father - that everything seemed tedious or tortuous to him. Apparently, he was on medication for treatment of depression, but like a lot of patients who are in a downward spiral, taking those prescriptions regularly proved to be too difficult. The pain of this event should be a wake up call to those teetering on the edge. Suicide may seem a quick way out, but it has disastrous consequences for family members and it never eases the pain for loved ones left behind. I have long held the belief that suicide is the final symptom of unchecked depression, a disease that brushed many of my fellow New Orleanians when dealing with the flooding, related deaths and loss of community we experienced following Hurricane Katrina. While I never contemplated suicide or found myself unable to cope as others did, it would have been a different story had I not had support through counseling in my home away from home in Cleveland. That simple mechanism helped me to deal with the vicissitudes of life in part from having to be separated from home, hearth and extended community. Luckily, my mechanisms for self-preservation kicked in without the need for medications, but there are a number of people for whom these drugs mean the difference between a productive life and a life with no purpose. The lesson to be learned here is there but for the grace of God, would I go too. There are too many times that tragedies like these could be averted were those stricken to seek out treatment, get counseling and take their medications. For Koenig it is simply too late, but for those who have loved ones still struggling with depression, take his father Walter's words of good counsel to heart: "If you are one of those people who can't handle it any more, know people are out there who really care before you make that final decision," he said. "Talk to somebody."

I need a dozen step program

My "problem"

I don’t know if I’m ready for “Celebrity Rehab 4” or not, but I do know I have a problem. It’s hamantaschen and I know I’m addicted. Call me a junkie, if you will, but when Purim gets near, I can’t wait to fill myself with the scrumptious taste of a poppy seed- , fruit preserve- or chocolate-filled triangle of baked dough. When Purim comes around, I buy them by the dozen, gouging myself on as many as I can take in one sitting. I don’t care who sees me. I am powerless to resist this sweet tooth. It is my jones. Whatever is left over I will then freeze in gallon sized plastic bags for use throughout the rest of the year. Weeks or months after Purim, I will remove one from the bag and microwave it for just a few seconds to restore the tasty delicacy to room temperature and allow me to gobble it down greedily. I am hooked. I admit that I do this oftentimes when I am alone. That can’t be good. In point of fact I am reluctant to share with others, knowing that I can’t bear to part with my trusty stash. Then there’s my biggest dilemma: cake or cookie dough. I can no longer hide my problem. It becomes incredibly difficult during Passover when chometz (leavened items) like hamantaschen are forbidden. It is only by the hardest determination that I make it through those eight days with this monkey on my back. So, call Dr. Pinsky or Dr. Phil, I cannot calm my cravings. I know I need somebody’s help to get me through this time of year. I’m ready to buy my dough of choice and I know that that time honored adage is true: one hamantasch is too much and 1000 hamantaschen are not enough. It’s time for me to get into a program with a dozen steps to ease me out of my misery and help me with my problem. This is not a half-baked idea. I know I "knead" to do this and will, with the help of my higher power, rise to overcome my pastry dependence.

Misery loves company and Cleveland

My goodness. Is there no end to the bashing my beloved Cleveland is taking today? Following the Mardi Gras madness and the good feeling generated by the world championship of the New Orleans Saints, there is little doubt that good spirits will abound here for some time to come. But, according to Forbes Magazine, the tiny area bounded by Cleveland, Akron and Canton is the most miserable in the United States with Cleveland listed as number one, Canton at number nine and Akron at 12. When you add Toledo into the equation at number 15 and Youngstown at number 18, Ohio is clearly the runaway as most miserable state with 25% of the top 20. With a notable exception for the league-leading NBA Cavaliers, Forbes determined the combination of lousy weather, high taxes, public corruption and high unemployment present in Cleveland was their clear choice for most miserable city, beating out last year's number one, Stockton, California. Having lived there for close to two years, I agree that the weather is not the nicest. In fact I never knew what it was to see so much snow in all of my days, but I dealt with it as best I could. A good pair of boots is de rigeur in order to walk about during winter and driving in snow and ice was a constant challenge. Nonetheless, I lived through it and my car is still in working order today, almost three years since I returned to New Orleans. There is a lot to love in Cleveland, especially the arts and cultural scene there. The Cleveland Museum of Art was going through a major expansion phase during my time there, but the parts that were opened to the public were quite impressive. The theatre district is home to the largest grouping of theaters in the country outside of Broadway, which most people will find hard to believe. The downtown district is home to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and several noteworthy museums. Then there are special places like the City Club, which serves as a speakers bureau nearly every Friday throughout the year and has done so for almost a century. For all of the harsh conditions they must endure, the people of Cleveland have proved to be indomitable. Indeed, many of the young residents have chosen to settle elsewhere after college, yet there are those diehard Clevelanders who will never leave and cannot envision living anywhere else. My sister has lived in Cleveland for more time than she spent growing up here in New Orleans or attending school at nearby L.S.U. She seems to have adjusted and, were it not for a lack of Mardi Gras and other amenities there, I might have stayed in Cleveland longer. But there's the rub. Perhaps, if Cleveland got more into the Carnival spirit, the people there might not be so miserable. I've started in my own way by sending beads to my friends living there. Perhaps some doubloons, cups and specialty throws are needed to pull them out of their doldrums or maybe some good New Orleans cuisine. Recently, Louisiana was given top honors as being the happiest state and I can assure you that New Orleans is the happiest place in our state, despite the sluggishness of the recovery in some areas of town. Yes, we have our share of corrupt politicians, but we're having so much fun, we don't seem to mind as much. The other factor here is the amount of sunlight we experience here and the lack of it in Cleveland. There's little I can do about that other than offer my Cleveland friends an opportunity to visit the Crescent City during the darkest and snowiest of winter days.

If ever I cease to Mardi Gras

Louis Lederman, a member of the Krewe of Cosmic Debris and a jester at Mardi Gras

Like a meteor hurling through the atmosphere, there was no doubt that the mad rush towards Fat Tuesday would end very quickly with somewhat unsettling results. The black and gold tinged festival ended very abruptly last night after the final weekend of parades extended into Lundi Gras and Mardi Gras, but Saints fever will no doubt continue unabated for months to come. It was an amazing ride, but still had a few surprises for those of who extended out into the hoopla or watched it unfold on TV. I did get a few hours of sleep following my return from the Krewe of Orpheus Orphescapade at approximately 4:00 a.m. With some urging, I took to the streets of the Faubourg Marigny and the Vieux Carre to soak up the latter portions of the day. Many more people seemed to be in costume or masked for the day of celebration and revelry and it wasn't hard to see that everyone was enjoying himself, from the kids taking it all in to the police officers and state troopers dealing with the huge, but peaceable crowds. Still smarting from the blows to my face from beads thrown by happy paraders on Sunday, I paced myself throughout the day and into the night with appropriate libations and wound up having a most enjoyable day. Still, there's only so much one can do and I missed the final moments of the meeting of the courts of the Krewe of Rex and the Mystick Krewe of Comus that has been an annual broadcast event for decades. It was a beautiful, but chilly day and one I will recall with great affection for some time to come. The one item of note that I did catch was the ceremonial passing of the whistle from the captain of Rex to the Rex official who will take over that prestigious post now. The new captain of Rex like the the new captain of Comus is surprisingly young and it seems this new blood may guarantee many years of continued success for the two oldest Carnival organizations. So, it's back to work for all of us today in the Crescent City, but the countdown to the next Mardi Gras has already begun.

Running for Mardi Gras

Okeanos Queen Martha Elizabeth Dart at Gallier Hall with sidekick

Yesterday was a real workout. After what for me was an unusual night of at least four hours of sleep, I awoke to prepare myself for the challenges of being the announcer for four day parades at Gallier Hall. Being prepared is a bit of an understatement. No matter how well I held up my end of what was needed, I was still dependeent on lots of external factors and other people to do what had to be accomplished. After finding a parking spot within three blocks of Gallier Hall, I walked the ten blocks to the hotel where the Queen of Okeanos' mother was hosting a special breakfast in her daughter's honor. All of the royal maids of Okeanos and their mothers were smartly attired in dresses or suits. Each maid donned an attractive hat. The queen, Martha Elizabeth Dart, was resplendent in a white suit with a crown symbolizing her reign. The limousines carrying the royal party had a bit of a problem. Because the four parades needed motorcycle escorts to their respective staging areas, the New Orleans Police Department's Motorcycle Division was hard pressed to provide a full escort until after the 10:00 a.m. start time. As a result, we had to "buzz" the parade route on the way to the uptown staging area, making our way through Carnival crowds already camped out on Napoleon and St. Charles Avenues. Two stretch limousines, which were in reality converted SUVs, carried the maids, a male escort and yours truly in one and the mothers and the captain of the krewe and a female escort followed behind in the other car. The police did a great job getting us to where they thought the beginning of the parade was, but it soon turned out they didn't know where they were going. We got within a block of the start of the parade and I stopped the caravan, grabbed a dozen yellow roses intended for the king's float and ran like the dickens for three blocks bouquet in hand. After handing the flowers to the aid on the king's float, I ran back to the waiting limousines, while the officers conferred as to what route would get us to the reviewing stand in time for me to announce the parades. I marvel at my breakneck speed in making it through the obstacle course of people and parading units. A bit out of breath, I waited for another two minutes while the motorcycle escorts and the drivers figured out a suitable side street on which to turn. These stretch limos were quite long. Finally I made a suggestion and off we went. As it turned out, we made great time getting back. However, by the time I got into the stands, the Knights of Babylon parade was already at Gallier Hall. It took a bit of running up the marble stairs and negotiating through the crowd, but the toast from the city to Sargon XLV went off magnificently as my adrenaline kicked in yet again. The parade, rescheduled from Thursday night's rainout, passed by in rapid order due to the fact they had no marching bands. It seemed to be less than ten minutes in length from the time of the toast to the time the trailing police and fire department units were passing the reviewing stand. It was then time to announce the arrival of the royal party. I called out each maid's name and her parents and introduced the Queen of Okeanos, Martha Elizabeth Dart, to my announcer's booth. After the captain's wife was introduced, all of the mothers of the maids were allowed into the mayor's reviewing area. Within a few minutes the 61st parade of the Krewe of Okeanos winded it way to the former New Orleans City Hall. The theme "Okeanos Asks: 'Will You Be Mine?" was an obvious homage to Valentine's Day The Krewe of Mid City followed right behind with 18 bright and dazzling floats decorated in alumninum foil of many colors. Another parade and another two toasts to the 2010 king and queen. Finally, the crowing achievement of the day came about when the impressive Krewe of Thoth, the second largest Carnival krewe behind Endymion passed in review. It was a huge parade with 42 floats in total and the theme "Thoth's All Mixed Up," a tribute to libations and potent potables like the White Russian, Margaita and Fog Cutter. The final toasts were done by recently re-elected Councilperson Cynthia Hedge-Morrell, but the parade seemed to last forever. It was a great day for Carnival, but I must admit I was plain tuckered by the time that the Krewe of Bacchus was set to roll with Drew Brees as its celebrity king. Brees was picked to be Bacchus several months ago when the Saints were still undefeated and when a Super Bowl win was still an unrealized dream. It was the third parade Brees has been in since the win last Sunday in Miami. He was in Orlando at Disney World for their parade on Monday, in New Orleans for the Super Bowl parade on Tuesday and, following stints on the Ellen Degeneres, David Letterman and Oprah Winfrey shows managed to get back in town to portray the Roman god of wine. Meanwhile, I am ready for the Greek god Morpheus to take over. Sleep...sleep...sleep.

The run to the finish

The last few days have been a whirlwind of excitement in the city. Tuesday's parade honoring the world champion New Orleans Saints was unlike any ever held before. That's a lot to consider because, after all, this is a town known for putting on parades. The cooperative effort by several Carnival krewes who "loaned" Barry Kern of Blaine Kern Productions twelve floats on which the team owners, players and coaches would ride was unlike anything ever seen in New Orleans. It was the biggest parade ever held in downtown New Orleans and the track took only a couple of miles. Estimates were that 800,000 fans came into the downtown area to cheer on the boys in black and gold. That's incredible when you consider that the latest census estimates have the New Orleans population at a little over 300,000. Usually, the celebration of Carnival intensifies in the last week leading up to Mardi Gras. This year is decidedly different. The Saints celebration party brought out every politician to Gallier Hall including both U.S. Senators, the governor, the mayor, the entire city council and most of the legislators who hold sway in Baton Rouge. Since that parade set a very high mark, the pattern could be likened to a rollercoaster ride that starts at the top, quickly plummets and then must start the climb back to the top. Wednesday the Krewe of Ancient Druids rolled through the city and I was there to announce the parade at Gallier Hall. The night before there were thousands there. The Druids parade with a theme titled "Holes" offered a funny exposition for a determined crowd that braved chilly winds in the Crescent City on Wednesday. Thursday's night parades were rained out, which mean the cancellation of the Knights of Chaos satirical parade and the postponement of the Krewes of Muses and the Knights of Babylon. Muses rolled last on Friday night's in what were four different parades one behind the other. Babylon chose to reschedule for Sunday in the morning. Yesterday's day parades include the Krewe of Iris, the oldest women's Carnival organization and I was pleased to be selected to provide music for a special group of ladies in the 25 float presentation. The spectacular Krewe of Endymion parade paralyzed the city last night on what has become known in recent times as Samedi Gras. The krewe featured Saints owner Tom Benson as the grand marshall and the 2400-plus members enjoyed the Endymion Extravaganza until the wee hours of the morning. It is only fitting that the announcer for Endymion is none other than Jerry Romig, the Saints announcer for the past 42 years and the announcer for Endymion since it began. So, I must leave to attend duties for announcing at Gallier Hall the four parades for today: the Knights of Babylon resecheduled from the rainout on Thursday night, the Krewe of Okeanos, the Krewe of Mid City and the second largest Carnival organization, the Krewe of Thoth.

The new hizzoner

In all of the hoopla leading up to the New Orleans Saints becoming world champions at the Super Bowl, there was a citywide election Saturday that set into place the officials who will lead or continue to lead New Orleans for the next four years. Following Hurricane Katrina in 2006 Lt. Governor Mitch Landrieu attempted what would have been unthinkable prior to the storm: to be elected the first white mayor of New Orleans since his father, Maurice "Moon" Landrieu held that august office. The elder Landrieu, for whom the so-called "Moonwalk" at the river and Jackson Square is named, also served as President Jimmy Carter's Secretary of Health and Urban Development and is the father of U.S. Senator Mary Landrieu and Verna's husband. The pitched battle between incumbent Mayor C. Ray Nagin and Mitch Landrieu four years ago resulted in Nagin's re-election after an enormous campaign in which large numbers of displaced voters were bussed in from areas as far away as Atlanta and Houston. Landrieu's entry into the race seemed a gamble at the time and Nagin mustered his forces together in a well-organized campaign that put his administration back into power for another four years, but the margin of victory was hardly convincing. Landrieu fought a good and decent campaign, but lost out by a few percentage points in what was his second mayoral attempt. Nagin was still a force to be reckoned with, but his attitude with the media became strained. It wasn't long after that election that City Councilman-at-large Oliver Thomas, the heir apparent to Nagin, was swept up in a kickback scandal discovered by federal authorities as a result of another investigation. Thomas's meteoric flame out occurred over a three-day period when he resigned from city office and pled guilty to the federal indictment secured against him. Thomas is still in the federal slammer counting the days until he is released. As the media continued to pound Nagin for alleged indiscretions including a family link to a business set up to work with Home Depot and several "business" trips to Hawaii and other locales, confidence in Mayor Nagin began to wither. Some media reports suggested he had, in fact, already moved to Dallas. One of the most controversial episodes occurred when the mayor's office was requested for his 2007 calendar as part of a public records request by both WWL-TV investigative reporter Lee Zurik and the Times-Picayune. An office spokesman stated that the request could not be fulfilled because a good portion of the mayor's e-mails had been "accidentally" deleted. What followed were several months of accusations and challenges before the Louisiana Technology Council and its partners were called in to help clarify the matter. Eventually, they restored the missing e-mails and concluded that the "accidental" deletions were, in fact, deliberately done by someone with a great deal of technical savvy. The press conference LTC called to go over the affair was seen by City Hall as disloyal and grandstanding. In any event, the local branch of the Federal Bureau of Investigation made sure it copied all of the missing files, but nothing yet has come of that. The lack of an incumbent made this most recent race interesting to be sure, but when Landrieu qualified at the last minute, some cried foul. Even though he had already ruled out a run in a decision last summer, the astute politician must have known that the field of candidates that had announced was weak at best and poor choices at worst. When the vote was tallied on Saturday night, Landrieu had won in the first primary by a whopping mandate of 66% in a field of 11 candidates. Political newcomer Troy Henry followed Landrieu's impressive 58,276 total with 12,275 votes. Landrieu had garnered a sizable majority of the black electorate as had his dad before him to secure the mayoralty in another race conducted with dignity and little negativity. Personally, I am looking forward to Landrieu's leadership. I've known him for a long time and respect him as a legislator, an upstanding citizen and a devotee of the arts. His administration may mark yet another turning point in New Orleans that could signal the recovery is well on its way to restoring the city to its full glory.