Below freezing again today. Warm weather is forecast for later this week and next. Hope blooms in the hearts. We are the undefeated. There is a reason we appear so weathered…it comes from the slings and arrows of everyday life. Rugged is our demeanour. There is a reason the Old Man loves the French Quarter. The love and acceptance of the realm were inspiring. We walked among those who had suffered and persevered. People who had doors shut in their faces and refused admission to the promises of the Constitution. They had found the joy of the journey. The Brass Band played on the corner, and the happy throng danced down Bourbon Street. Joy is better than sorrow. The Journey is with the Angels, and they walk beside us on the rocky trail.

‘You can be yourself in the French Quarter,’ the bartender said. ‘No one cares for your fancy Mask of Identity…they would rather see the real you,’ the Bartender continued. ‘The Masks we wear at Mardi Gras are to entertain the Angels,’ the Bartender commented. ‘They know the real us, and we like to see their faces when we try to disguise who we are,’ the Bartender noted. ‘I wore a rich man’s Mask to cheat the Miser who kicked me out of my home when I was a lad,’ the Bartender laughed. ‘The old Miser put me and mama and my little brother on the street, and we had nothing to eat and nowhere to go,’ the Bartender noted. ‘So at Mardi Gras I wear the Mask of the Richman to show my victory from suffering,’ the Bartender proclaimed. ‘I distribute chocolates to the kiddos wrapped in gold paper, and their eyes light up with joy,’ the Bartender danced first on one foot and then the other.

‘I push Johnny in his little cart while we sing Swing Low Sweet Chariot as the band plays,’ Abigail said. ‘Johnny is crippled and has been so since he was born…he loves to see the happy faces of the Mardi Gras parades and hear their applause as he sings,’ Abagail continued. ‘Kids made fun of his lameness when he was in school until he began to sing…then the Angels joined him, and all who heard fell silent and showed respect,’ Abagail softly said.

‘I saw an amazing sight,’ Chet said. ‘I was on Royal Street, and both sides of the road were lined with Angels applauding the homeless and sick and forgotten of the French Quarter as they passed by with Masks of Joy on their faces,’ Chet wept.

So we walk through the shadows. A significant portion of our lives is spent in them. Often, we need the flashlight on our iPhone to see where we are going. The light is grey and smoky. The monochrome atmosphere is a bit like film noir. People are lurking in the shadows, but it is hard to tell if they are friend or foe. Music plays in the distance, a baby cries, and we look about for a familiar face.

Life is often like a mystery movie. The mystery overcomes us from time to time. When we were in New Orleans in the French Quarter, I saw some whose lives had gotten the best of them. As the Old Man rounded the corner, a man was lying in the middle of the sidewalk sleeping. He was oblivious to the many passersby stepping over him and walking around him. No one seemed concerned or troubled by the shocking sight. The Old Man was in a joyful environment that was not joyful for everyone. At least three universes were present on the path. The people passing, enjoying the jazz music, the homeless who people stepped around or over, and the angels watching in the shadows.

‘How have we coarsened so,’ the Old Man asked? ‘People lose their way, taking a wrong turn and then becoming lost in the shadows,’ the Old Man continued. ‘A young mother is shot dead for not doing what the authorities tell her, and a nurse is shot in the head for attempting to help a woman in distress,’ the Old Man wept. ‘Many say all they had to do was obey the law…would they be so cavalier if it were their mother, sister, or brother,’ the Old Man mused. ‘When our neighbor suffers, we wonder what he did to cause him to sleep in the bed he made…, but when we suffer, we are being chastised by an angry God,’ the Old Man noted.

‘I love the happy carefree spirit of the French Quarter,’ Chet said with a laugh. ‘Being in Meyer’s Hat Store and meeting Mr. Meyers was a special treat,’ Chet continued. ‘I felt like I was living in the 40s just after WWII,’ Chet said with a grin. ‘There stood Mr. Meyers, no longer an old man but young and just back from the War,’ Chet noted. ‘He wore a pork pie hat and carried an ivory head walking stick,’ Chet said. ‘Mr. Meyers was full of life and plans and hope for the future of his Hat Store as the workmen erected the sign with his name on it over the door,’ Chet said. ‘There were many veterans back from World War II on the French Quarter streets,’ Chet continued. The Hotel Monteleone was full of patrons, including Truman Capote and Eudora Welty, as they had taken up residence at the Monteleone as they worked on their manuscripts,’ Chet said with a little dance. ‘The Carousel Bar was turning, and the patrons were drinking Sazeracs and Dirty Martinis,’ Chet observed.

‘Shadows are outside today, the Old Man said. ‘Mr. Meyers is 102, and people are being killed for no reason by our government…while we look away and step around them or step over them,’ the Old Man said with a tear in his eye.

Groundhog Day is here again. Six more weeks of winter sounds correct for our neck of the woods. The snow that fell over a week ago is still here. Yesterday was Game Day. Jennifer and Annelise joined us for a fun afternoon. We inaugurated the Charcuterie Board. Jonathon took a photo of it. MJ loves Game Day.

The Old Man’s mind was stirred by events. January had been an interesting month. A noteworthy beginning for the New Year. The French Quarter caused him to meditate on inclusion rather than exclusion. A Spirit of Acceptance permeated the air. Folks had taken off their Masks in the City of Masks. When we ‘Get Real,’ great things happen. As the Old Man observed the letting down of walls that surround so many, there was a touch of the sublime.

‘It takes a worried man to sing a worried song. I’m worried now, but I won’t be worried long.’ (Worried Man Blues)

‘I removed my Frowning Mask for a Smiling Mask as I no longer feel worried since we arrived in New Orleans,’ Jane said. ‘I did it when I stopped to listen to the beautiful woman singing on the corner,’ Jane continued. ‘The woman’s face revealed she had suffered and overcome the suffering,’ Jane mused. ‘The joy de vie of throughout the Quarter got into my soul,’ Jane said with a little dance. ‘The musicians and parade participants taught me how wonderful the gift of life is,’ Jane laughed heartily.

‘My new friend Jane will sing the next tune,’ the Singer said. ‘Jane has laid down her cross and taken up her crown of joy,’ the Singer continued. ‘The angel brought Jane to us,’ the Singer said quietly. ‘Anxiety had filled her days…now she has peace,’ the Singer said. ‘All of us experience the blows of harshness and often coming from those who do not understand and know not what they do,’ the Singer said. ‘Jesus experienced the same, and our joy in the face of adversity intrigues the angels,’ the Singer sang in her sweet jazz-tinged voice. ‘I don’t know why I have to cry sometimes…I don’t know why I am all alone sometimes…It would be a perfect day, but there is trouble in my way…I don’t know why, but I will know it by and by,’ the Singer sang.

Last night it was Christmas once again. Dinner with Tara, Mike, Paige, Tyler, Kalynn and Dylan was special. Global Gourmet was a perfect setting for close conversation and sharing of stories. I can not recall an evening I enjoyed more. Their bright, happy faces and wonderful talk were better than the warmth of a fireplace on a bitterly cold night.

So we look to each other for the peace of living. Happiness and joy can be found in the eyes of our loved ones.

The Old Man witnessed people seeking peace in the eyes of others in the French Quarter. Hope overcoming fear. Confidence in the face of anxiety. Arms outstretched for the angel’s grasp. They played music inspired by their life experiences and love. They sang and danced from their souls. The spiritual quality of our daily lives is often lost on our busy minds.

The Old Man is a people watcher. People fascinate him. The Universe is contained within them. Life plays out like a short movie. We are young, and soon we become old. The tropes of success fall away. All that remains is our soul and the spirit that inspires it.

Listening is necessary in Soul Watching. What does a person say when the stage lights are dimmed and the stage curtain is drawn? We perform our roles on the stage of life. We must learn our lines well. So many scenes do not have a redo. We strive to perform the part we have been assigned the first time. We are full of mistakes and flaws. This is what makes us magnificent. Our outer shell is cracked from the buffeting of life. This is how the light gets in…