A train trip is in our future. We are going to The Big Easy. We have been there before in the heat of late spring. We board in the wee hours of the morning. Our last visit was a drive from Destin, Florida, to New Orleans. We stayed in an Airbnb and met Mr. Hurricane. He changed our day’s plans. We toured the cemeteries, but not after Mr. Hurricane. Mr. Hurricane is mind-expanding. Burials are in mauseloeums due to flooding. You walk among the dead.

Bats roam the skies at night. An interesting occurrence if you are not accustomed to bats other than Dracula. We heard the dueling pianos and witnessed the antics of several fraternity members as they danced and sang, and drank from a passed-around flask. They were in such high spirits that they did not notice the young woman who wanted to strike up a conversation with them. The busily danced on.

We are in the French Quarter at the Hotel Monteleone. The Hotel has been around since 1886. It has a Carousel Bar. With Mr. Hurricane, we did not need a Carousel.

So we begin 2026 with a little holiday after the holidays. A preference of mine for the fifteen-plus years of my retirement. Yes, I did say fifteen plus since I retired fifteen years ago at the end of 2010. Where have the years gone? Each year passes faster than the last. As MJ said the other day, it will be Christmas again before long. I retired early in hopes of beating the system a little. I had a lovely conversation with my barber this morning. She asked me what I was going to do after my haircut, and I replied, preparing to take a train trip to New Orleans. She was full of stories regarding New Orleans. She told her husband that when she died, she wanted a Parade just like the custom in New Orleans. Her command to her husband was, ‘Make it happen!’

The honors and celebrations of the deceased are to be desired in New Orleans, as well as Mexico’s Day of the Dead. Rather than fear, we should embrace the normal progression of our lives. We are here for a season, then we go to another place. When we arrive, we will wonder what we were worried about.

Mr. Hurricane might facilitate the transition…