55 Marbles
Discovery consists of seeing what everybody has seen and thinking what nobody has thought.
Albert Szent-Gyorgyi
It was an early morning. When the alarm went off at 5:00 am, I had slept for three hours. I got up and dropped a marble through the window into the garden and tucked five marbles into my purse to be dropped into New Orlean’s soil.
When I rolled my suitcase to the bus stop near my house it was still dark. After three transfers, I was finally at the airport.
I had to change planes in Dallas where there was a nasty winter storm – lightning, thunder, freezing rain. Unfortunately all flights were cancelled until the storm subsided. As I sat in the terminal, I listened to the announcements through the speakers, warning of a code yellow, or elevated security threat. Part of me wanted to be home so I called my brother/friend in Georgia so I could hear a familiar voice. I thought about changing my flight to go see him but decided that just talking to him was what I needed.
Four hours later, the storm subsided and planes were taking off again. I was sent to another terminal to try to get on the next plane to New Orleans but it was already full. Twice more I tried in vain to get on a flight until finally I got on the last flight to New Orleans.
The airport shuttle to my hotel was packed and I was tired and starving but when we entered the French Quarter, I was revived. It was love at first sight - the beautiful buildings, the lights - it was the real life inspiration for Disneyland’s New Orleans Square. It had the feeling of history that so many European cities have - was I really in America? My excitement stirred. For the first time that day, I felt like I was in the right place.
I arrived at my hotel at just past midnight and asked the girl at the desk, “Is there a place still open that I could get some food?” She answered, “Obviously you’re not from around here,” and she proceeded to tell me about the numerous spots that were still open. Apparently the French Quarter never sleeps.
I walked down the street in the warm winter air – an oxymoron where I come from. When I approached Bourbon Street, three girls were teetering on their heels, arm in arm. They stopped and one of them threw up in the gutter. As I passed by, her friend turned to me, “Welcome to New Orleans.”
For dinner I had my first Shrimp Po’Boy (named after the sandwiches brought to the“poor boys”- the striking transit workers back in 1929). It was tasty, and spicy, and huge. The boy-next-door waiter from Kansas tried to pick me up. Hmmm, this should be interesting.
Back in the hotel, my room smelled like smoke. I landed in bed exhausted and yes, alone. As I drifted off to sleep, I wondered, "What am I doing?" and, “Will I leave early?”
Albert Szent-Gyorgyi
It was an early morning. When the alarm went off at 5:00 am, I had slept for three hours. I got up and dropped a marble through the window into the garden and tucked five marbles into my purse to be dropped into New Orlean’s soil.
When I rolled my suitcase to the bus stop near my house it was still dark. After three transfers, I was finally at the airport.
I had to change planes in Dallas where there was a nasty winter storm – lightning, thunder, freezing rain. Unfortunately all flights were cancelled until the storm subsided. As I sat in the terminal, I listened to the announcements through the speakers, warning of a code yellow, or elevated security threat. Part of me wanted to be home so I called my brother/friend in Georgia so I could hear a familiar voice. I thought about changing my flight to go see him but decided that just talking to him was what I needed.
Four hours later, the storm subsided and planes were taking off again. I was sent to another terminal to try to get on the next plane to New Orleans but it was already full. Twice more I tried in vain to get on a flight until finally I got on the last flight to New Orleans.
The airport shuttle to my hotel was packed and I was tired and starving but when we entered the French Quarter, I was revived. It was love at first sight - the beautiful buildings, the lights - it was the real life inspiration for Disneyland’s New Orleans Square. It had the feeling of history that so many European cities have - was I really in America? My excitement stirred. For the first time that day, I felt like I was in the right place.
I arrived at my hotel at just past midnight and asked the girl at the desk, “Is there a place still open that I could get some food?” She answered, “Obviously you’re not from around here,” and she proceeded to tell me about the numerous spots that were still open. Apparently the French Quarter never sleeps.
I walked down the street in the warm winter air – an oxymoron where I come from. When I approached Bourbon Street, three girls were teetering on their heels, arm in arm. They stopped and one of them threw up in the gutter. As I passed by, her friend turned to me, “Welcome to New Orleans.”
For dinner I had my first Shrimp Po’Boy (named after the sandwiches brought to the“poor boys”- the striking transit workers back in 1929). It was tasty, and spicy, and huge. The boy-next-door waiter from Kansas tried to pick me up. Hmmm, this should be interesting.
Back in the hotel, my room smelled like smoke. I landed in bed exhausted and yes, alone. As I drifted off to sleep, I wondered, "What am I doing?" and, “Will I leave early?”
What do you do when obstacles appear in your path? Do you forge forward or doubt your path?
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