My Low Carb Lent, Part 2: From St. Patrick’s Day Temptation To Nerd Croquet Elation

THE TRANSPLANT TWENTY-FIVE

Greg Cartwright Gathers The Nerds While Doing a Nerd's Literal Interpretation of a Keg Stand

Greg Cartwright Gathers The Nerds While Doing a Nerd’s Literal Interpretation of a Keg Stand

Last weekend I attended The All Chewbachus Spring Croquet Invitational and B-B Chew, a Chewbacchusrelated’ (though not ‘officially sanctioned’ as even sci-fi walking parades in the Marigny have gone legit with insurance disclaimers) ‘Gathering of the Nerds.’ Held on the banks of the Mississippi River at a park below Audubon Zoo called ‘The Fly’ (for reasons unknown to me), this picnic and croquet free-for-all included many of the same attendees that were at the St. Patrick’s Day party I attended two months ago just as I was starting My Low Carb Lent. Happily, fifteen to twenty pounds less of me showed up this past Sunday, for that party two months ago had been the first major test I would face.

nerds gather 2Now that Jazz Fest is over, the event this weekend provided a nice gateway through which to return to the early days of my quest to correct the dietary sins of My Year of Mardi Gras. Eschewing New Orleans living may seem an odd direction for this blog, but most transplants I talk to have had a similar experience; it’s like gaining your ‘freshmen fifteen’ in college, only your ‘transplant twenty-five’ tends to come at a time in your life when your metabolism has slowed and you can’t simply lose weight by exercising a bit and skipping the desert line for a few weeks!

PUTTING THE ‘S’ IN HOLI-DAY

What do Star Wars Nerds Do At A Picnic....

What do Star Wars Nerds Do At A Picnic….

Observing Lent in New Orleans is no easy matter, despite the heavily ritualistic Catholic culture. After the mass consumption of Mardi Gras the city may aspire to forty-seven days of fasting (if you count the Sundays, which is apparently a debatable point), but there are just too many good reasons to party here. Forty-seven days quickly gives way to four-to-seven days, and broken Lents come especially quickly in a year [Read more…]

My Low Carb Lent, Part 1: Quitting Pie Disguised As Piety

BOY, YOU’RE GOING TO CARRY THAT WEIGHT (A LONG TIME)

Puffy Pirate Face (W/Aimee Who Planted Idea For My Low Carb Lent)

Puffy Pirate Face
(W/Aimee Who Planted Idea For My Low Carb Lent)

I awoke on Ash Wednesday feeling exhausted and uncertain. My Year of Mardi Gras had run its course. What next? Should I stick around for another year and see if things finally took off or chalk it up to life experience and move on to the next adventure?

trash-golden-slumbers-and-carry-that-weight-appleAsh Wednesday marks the beginning of Lent—a period of fasting and reflection—and these questions would dominate my soul-searching from the start, March 5th, through its end on Easter this past Sunday. During this seven weeks of calm after the storm of Mardi Gras I made progress but didn’t come to a decision.

My Year of Mardi Gras has certainly been eventful throughout all the ups and down, changing my perspective and giving me memories to carry through life. Unfortunately, it also helped me accumulate some things I didn’t want to carry any longer. Fortunately, I did manage to make some gains (or losses) in this area.

A MOMENTARY LAPSE OF REASON

pink_floyd-a_momentary_lapse_of_reason-frontalAnyone who’s read the introductory pages to this online memoir knows that the idea for this adventure originated in the wake of a bad breakup. In past relationships I’ve stayed too long or missed the warning signs or made missteps, but that particular debacle is the only relationship [Read more…]

My Year of St. Patty’s Day Part 1: From Red Stick To Irish Channel

CALLING BATON ROUGE (RING LATE, HANG UP EARLY)

Me With the Tusas At Their Home for The Baton Rouge St. Patrick's Day Parade

Me With the Tusas At Their Home for The Baton Rouge St. Patrick’s Day Parade

Having detoured around an accident, I arrived in Baton Rouge late Friday night where I’d been invited to attend the parade Saturday morning at the home of Dirty Little Angels author Chris Tusa and his wife Pam. I still miss those late-night, heavy conversations from my days in academia and Chris and I immediately dove into formidable quandaries of art, politics, life and literature, pontificating until after 3 a.m. The only downside of this verbal rambling was that, unbeknownst to me, Baton Rouge is an early party town. The parade that would pass by their front yard began at 10 a.m., so guests were already arriving 8 a.m., reluctantly rousing me. I guiltily yet groggily rolled out of bed searching desperately for coffee.

Waiting for the Parade

The Parade Finally Arrives

As we waited on the parade, Chris played dueling stereos with his braggart neighbor, eventually turning off his system in disgust at the one-upper next door while I stayed inside and had a pleasant chat covering a few hundred years of U.S. history with his former neighbor, a retired firefighter. Two consecutive sprawling conversations with well-read sparring partners—it was nerdy nirvana.

B.R. SPD Parade 1When the parade finally did roll by it was [Read more…]