A birthday, an anniversary and a battle royal

Happy birthday, happy anniversary and Who Dat!

Today is a special day. January 8 would have been the 76th birthday of Elvis Presley. It is the 196th anniversary of the Battle of New Orleans. But for all of New Orleans today is the first day of the playoffs. It is the day when the New Orleans Saints will take on the Seattle Seahawks at Qwest Stadium. While conditions at game time are expected to be less than the perfect conditions inside the Superdome, the Saints players will be ready for the game. I will not make excuses. Despite the expectations of the prognosticators who have made the Saints a 10-point favorite, the Saints are hurting from a number of key injuries to players like running backs Chris Ivory and Pierre Thomas. That puts all the more pressure on Reggie Bush, the only healthy running back remaining that is well known. On defense several players are also out like Malcolm Jenkins and Anthony Hargrove. The team will be playing in just a few moment in front of hostile fans, but they are ready to prove they are indeed the reigning world champions. We're all holding our collective breath and hoping the way to the Superbowl will be through the depth of our fantastic team. Were they here, Elvis and Andrew Jackson would be Saints fans, I'm sure. So, "Go Saints!" and a "who dat!" to you too.

12th Night arrives and so do the Phunny Phorty Phellows

The Phunny Phorty Phellows streetcar

Okay, it's that special time again in "the city that care forgot." January 6, known around the world as Twelfth Night, is the official kickoff for Mardi Gras. While the big day (March 8) is still a full two months away, the events leading up to the final celebrations begin in earnest as of tonight. The Phunny Phorty Phellows, considered the official heralds of the Carnival season kicked things off with their traditional streetcar party along historic St. Charles and Carrollton Avenues. A party band playing traditional jazz and Mardi Gras pieces accompanied the group of revelers who were masked and in costumes. The history of the Phunny Phorty Phellows dates back to 1878, only six years after the Krewe of Rex and 21 years after the Krewe of Comus had been formed. The Phunny Phorty Phellows was composed of civic and business leaders who led the Rex parade for a number of years and the organization also presented formal balls. Late in the Nineteenth Century the group disbanded, but it did not stay on the trash heap of Carnival lore. In 1981 a group of Canrival-loving New Orleanians spearheaded by Erroll Laborde, a local editor, author and Carnival historian, re-instituted the practice of having the Phunny Phorty Phellows announce the start of the Carnival season and to highlight their glorious past. The group's symbol is still an owl and the head of their organization is called simply "The Boss" (sorry, Bruce). In addition the group has two mottoes, one in French - "Honi soit qui mal y pense," which translates into "Evil to them who think evil" - and the other more easily understood "A little nonsense now and then is relished by the best of men." It's all in fun and over the past three decades has become one of the more eagerly anticipated events each year. This year marks the second-longest period of time between Twelfth Night and Mardi Gras, just like a few years back the second shortest period of time was when Mardi Gras was on February 5. Just keep in mind that no matter the date of Mardi Gras, the balls and parades can't be that far off.

Our third anniversary

Today marks the third anniversary of this blog. When I first began the Kosher Computing blog in 2008, I was ever so dedicated, forcing myself to write no matter what obstacles or outside activities lay in my way. I am happy to report that I have found time to just say no to the blog, but I nevertheless feel guilty. Since 2008 I have written about a myriad topics in over 500 posts. Given the fact that I started out trying to write every day and now find myself unable to even remotely pass near that goal, there is a feeling that I should perhaps apologize or make penance in some way. But I fear no such apology will emanate from my lips or from my nimble fingers on the keyboard. I am definitely happy I have found many other outlets to feed my jones for writing including my work at a reporter/reviewer on Examiner.com. While other pursuits may keep me busy, know that my love of writing and my dedication to the time-honored profession of journalism and the high ideals it exudes will never keep me very far away. The new year portends several new endeavors that will occupy much of my time in the coming months. Details on these new opportunities will be announced in due time, but it will mean an even higher level of commitment from me and more time focused on writing. I'm not sure just how that will affect my ability to be faithful to this blog, but I am hopeful it will be a good and positive force overall and in the end give even more back to those who take the time to follow this blog. I invite everyone to become "official" followers through the application Google provides, but remember it is not necessary. You make it over here when you can and I will do the same.

Twas the night before...

As a kid, I strongly remember the joy of the holiday season. It was obliquely obvious that things were different at this time of year. For starters people started treating each other nicely. Perhaps mindful that "Santa" would not reward bad behavior, even the bullies started acting right. I dare say I received very few beatings in the days leading up to the Christmas break. Trust me: with my big mouth and obnoxious attitude, there was always a chance I would be beaten for no other reason than I was small, smart or a smart ass. These holidays were a big deal, definitely surpassing importance than any other including Easter. Before we were let out from public school for the holidays we were always encouraged to sing Christmas songs prior to the big day. I remember fixating on the image of the jolly, fat Santa Claus riding his sleigh full of toys and other gifts with the flying reindeer led by the red-nosed Rudolf himself. It was all such an awe-filled time in my life. I was happy. Then one Christmas my parents dropped the J-bomb. "You're Jewish," they explained. What? Santa wasn't going to visit me and reward me for being a good child? Hmmmm...this was definitely not right. Who do I see about this? Who will fix it so that Santa would continue to include me on his list for future rides? As it turned out, there was no one to see and Santa never did make it back over to the Smason homestead. Yet, there were gifts. Knowing that withholding toys from boys and girls at that particular part of the calendar year could have a deleterious effect on a fragile child's developing mind, my parents were insightful. They always provided gifts for my sister and me, but they didn't make a big deal about it. They went through the motions of providing gifts, but rarely did they ever have me ask for anything in particular. Since I wasn't technically asking Santa for gifts, it was deemed okay. In any event it was tough being Jewish and trying to understand why Jews were being excluded from the busy end of the holiday. Thank goodness that most years Chanukah and Christmas are in close proximity, unlike this year. When I pressed my folks for an explanation, they told me about recognizing Jesus as the Messiah, but it still didn't make any sense to me as to how and why this would manifest in not having a connection to Santa Claus or his reindeer with the famous crimson muzzle. Although we never had a tree or, as some Reform Jews call it, a "Chanukah bush," one of my great aunts did. Oftentimes family members would gather at my great uncle and aunt's home, thereby allowing her to host Christmas for us as a family. I also remember my favorite Christmas character was Mister Bingle, whose TV show was broadcast every year during the days leading up to the big day. Mister Bingle was created by Maison Blanche in the late 1940s as a way of spurring sales in their department store. The character was purported to be a tiny snowman with a red cherry button for a nose, an ice cream cone for a hat and holly leaves for wings. He had mittens made out of candy cane stripes and carried a candy cane. Though it was never fully explained, he was animated through the magic of the holiday by Santa Claus, whom he served as a helper along with the elves. He was very funny, always got into trouble and was the perfect foil for Christmas comedy to a kid. I always imagined meeting Mister Bingle and years later I did...or at least the chain-smoking, baldheaded store employee who did his character's impossibly high voice improvisations. If anything completely dashed my Christmas memories, that was probably it. Maybe that's why I always feel the need to connect to those simpler times when the joy of being rewarded for being a kid was not caught up in any religious rhetoric or significance. I watch Jean Shepherd's "A Christmas Story" broadcast for 24 hours straight every year over TBS at least once or twice to recall in me of the importance of the holiday to impressionable and wide-eyed kids. Plus, looking at the father in that story going gaga over the "major award" leg lamp reminds me that one doesn't have to outgrow that incredible sense of wonder.

Two grand ladies pass

Bryan's loving memoir to his mother Gayle

The news before Christmas is not very good for a city that is so closely connected. Yesterday, the city lost two grand dames, the first a gracious, charming and vivacious ambassador for the Crescent City and the other a 95-year-old institution that local actors and the theatre public have referred to as "the old girl." Gayle Batt, a true New Orleanian from the top of her perfectly coiffed hair to the soles on her exquisite shoes, lost her courageous, long-running battle with cancer yesterday at the age of 79. Batt, the mother of actor Bryan and local politician and former city councilman Jay, was a cancer survivor at least thrice before. She worked for a large number of local charities and non-profits including the New Orleans Museum of Art, WRBH Radio for the Blind and Print Handicapped, the Friends of City Park, Save Our Cemeteries, the Louisiana chapter of the Juvenile Diabetes Foundation and various garden societies. She was the subject of her son Bryan's loving memoir "She Ain't Heavy, She's My Mother" released this year by Harmony Books (Crown Publishing Group). A redoubtable figure who always was impeccably attired and never without a smile, Batt worked tirelessly for many causes, but her most special attachment might have been her work as a member of the board of governors of Le Petit Théåtre du Vieux Carré, the other victim who fell yesterday. After weeks of speculation, Cassie Worley, the president of the Le Petit board of governors, announced with regret the cancellation of the remainder of the season including the upcoming productions of "Frost/Nixon," "The Drowsy Chaperone," "Evita" and "Disney's High School Musical." The theatre's production of "White Christmas," slated to have run during the first three weeks of December had previously been canceled. According to several sources, this action was necessary due to runaway costs for the maintenance of the building and other debts that are reported to top at about $1 million. Close friends of the theatre were shocked to hear that were "White Christmas" to have been mounted and had sellouts for each performance, it still would lose money. Money problems have threatened the small theatre, which boasts it is the oldest continuously running community theatre company in the United States. A few years back artistic director Sonny Borey and his entire staff were sacked. The Solomon Group was then brought in to rein in the the finances and Gary Solomon, the 20-something wunderkind was credited with keeping the company from the brink of financial doom. An article in the Times-Picayune earlier in the year gave Solomon the nod as the savior of the theatre most New Orleanians consider the best in the city. He did so by comping the services of the Solomon Group for three months, but then charging the theatre $10,000 per month for their services. Solomon brought about a number of incredible changes for Little Theatre, but the mounting debt still lingered despite the theatre making a turn towards financial stability.When Solomon was discharged by the board two months ago, speculation ran rampant about who would take over the day-to-day operations of the theatre. A recent run of shows "We Need a Little Christmas" with headliner Bryan Batt raised several tens of thousands of dollars for the theatre, but it was, apparently, too little, too late. It is sad, but out of this disaster, the seeds of redemption may be planted. Plans are afoot to see what can be done to make Le Petit more financially viable. Some sections of the building, which fronts near Jackson Square, may be sold off and the money applied towards servicing the theatre company's debt. The board remains very tight-lipped, but no one has suggested the theatre will be forced to close its doors permanently...yet. Meanwhile, the funeral for Gayle Batt will be held at Rayne Memorial United Methodist, 3900 St. Charles Avenue, tomorrow and the burial will be private. In addition to her two sons and their partners, she is survived by two grandchildren. My condolences to all the members of the family and to all those who were blessed to know her.

Right Hall, Long Time

Dr. John, middle right, at the 2003 Big Easy Awards

For those of us lucky to be residents of New Orleans or for those who long to be, there are many reasons to be smiling today. One is that the weather here has steadily risen into the 50s with highs expected in the low 60s over the course of the next days. But more important than the temperate skies and pleasing temperatures is the fact that Mac Rebennack, also known as "Dr. John, the Night Tripper" has been announced as one of the latest inductees into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Even though the actual hall is located in Cleveland, most years that new inductees are announced, the ceremonies take place in New York, the site of where the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Foundation is located. Dr. John will be the third artist from New Orleans to be inducted who is strictly a performer. He follows Antoine "Fats" Domino and Lloyd Price in that category. Others like producer-arranger-composer Allen Toussaint and Dave Bartholomew were admitted for their work in other capacities. This is a very big deal and, indeed, the good "doctor" will be singing his own version of "Such a Night" when the ceremonies are held on March 14, 2011 at the Waldorf Astoria. The fortunes of Dr. John have definitely improved since his early years as a youth, when he learned to play piano and guitar from the likes of the fabled A. J. Guma at Werlein's for Music on busy Canal Street in the early 1950s. Rebennack's early work with guitar was cut short when his left ring finger was injured by a gunshot while he defended a friend and fellow musician. After a short stint with bass guitar, Rebennack opted to make piano his main performing instrument. His work in Los Angeles in the 1960s and early 1970s as a studio musician made him a mainstay for session work with big name stars like Sonny and Cher, Canned Heat and other acts. Around the same time Rebennack began a long spiral into drugs that ended up getting him hooked on heroin for decades. Yet, during this time he produced some of his most impressive work, work that clearly established him as one of the brightest of New Orleans stars. His early start with "Gris Gris" on Atco Records developed the Dr. John Creaux persona with such classic psychedlic-tinged anthems as "Walk on Guilded Splinters." His "Gumbo" album was a retrospective of rhythm and blues songs from the Crescent City that still remains one of the most important collections ever released. Through the years his work produced other classics. His "Right Place, Wrong Time" and "Such a Night" with the Meters as background musicians and Allen Toussaint as producer garnered him two of his top 40 hits during a time when radio play was essential to make a star successful. In 1986 he released "Goin' Back to New Orleans," a homage to New Orleans musical culture that included the Mardi Gras Indians. Through the years he has worked with the biggest of stars - the Rolling Stones, the Band, James Taylor, Van Morrison, Rickie Lee Jones - and his definitive piano style has ensured his legacy as one of the country's most respected of musicians. In recent years he has worked tirelessly to highlight the plight of New Orleans following the devastation that occurred after Hurricane Katrina as well as to point to the continuing crisis this past summer from the BP oil spill. His cover of Randy Newman's "Down in New Orleans" for Disney's "The Princess and the Frog" garnered him an Academy Award nomination in 2009. Free from the cruel addiction with heroin for over two decades now, Dr. John has improved his quality of life and his musical output continues to captivate his many fans both in and out of the city of his birth.

Decisions in the Henry Glover case

Edna Glover with a picture of her late son Henry

A jury of five men and seven women returned convictions for three out of the five New Orleans police officers who had been accused by federal prosecutors on charges of murder and a cover up scheme in the tragic case of Henry Glover. Glover's badly burned body was found in an abandoned burned automobile in the days following Hurricane Katrina and the resulting breakdown of society in the aftermath of the flooding here. Glover's celebrated case is the first to be handled by federal prosecutors who sought to punish out of control police officers who decided to take the law into their own hands. At first declared heroes by some, many of the same indicted and now convicted officers will have much to think about from their federal jail cells. The upcoming case involving the shootings at the Danziger Bridge will determine how soon other officers will be brought to justice. The true stories about all of these crimes were covered up until last year, when federal prosecutors started bringing witnesses before grand juries. In the end no one wins from a decision like this. Two officers were exonerated and the public has decried that as a travesty. But in the end we are a society governed by law, not men. When the law is applied by men who interpret it, there is always a chance that it will be applied unevenly, that justice will not be served. Yet, as imperfect a system as it may be, the capacity to punish the guilty and free the innocent remains the only thing we have in place that assures that government truly serves the will of the people. No verdict tendered by a jury will ever fully satisfy either side of the clamoring crowd. The grieving family members have some solace, but they will not have their full measure of flesh. The jurors have executed their duty to the best of their abilities and we must accept it as having been decided by dedication to their duty and due diligence. As a city, we need to move on but remember the hard lessons of Katrina lest this sad story be repeated. If such a disaster ever strikes my beloved hometown again, I hope the professionals in charge of protecting my fellow citizens will keep the law in mind and take steps to make certain that these kinds of tragic mistakes and the attempts to cover them up will never occur again.