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Contributing Writers Donna Bush EFOP, Charlotte Lowry Collins The Storyteller, John Case Slidellicacies, John Maracich III Jockularity, Corey Hogue Pet Points, Jeff Perret, DVM Crimmi-Mommly Insane, Leslie Gates Once Upon A Time...In Slidell, Ronnie Dunaway Ronnie@WhoDatShoppe.org Tempting the Palette, Lori Gomez www.LoriGomezArt.com Making Cents of Your Money, Mike Rich MikeRich@mypontchartrain.com Go Beyond, Rose Marie Sand Rose@RoseMarieSand.com
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DECEMBER 2014
Extraordinarily Fascinating “Ordinary” People Sponsored by
Nolan Lefort By Charlotte Lowry Collins
The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious - the fundamental emotion which stands at the cradle of true art and true science.
~ Albert Einstein The World As I See It (2006), 7
The term ‘mysterious’ in reference to an experience, from the quote above, perfectly describes my visit with December’s Extraordinarily Fascinating Ordinary Person. As I reached his door for the interview, I found myself pausing to examine the large quartz clusters glittering at me from the rock garden. I was temporarily transposed to a family vacation in Arkansas, long ago, where I first saw quartz clusters through my son’s five year old eyes. I entered smiling, as
Nolan’s garden jewels had reminded me of the magical sensation we experienced upon unearthing Mother Nature’s gems. This was to be only the beginning of my surprising revelations in this home. Time seemed to slow again as I walked through his home, trying distractedly to keep up with my host. Nolan Lefort’s artwork is everywhere you look, on the walls, ceilings, floors, tabletops, and at times, they are actually the tables themselves. The kitchen ceiling sports an
upside-down table with a pineapple downside-up cake. It was magical, in an “Alice in Wonderland” kind of way. I eventually made it to the sunroom, where we sat overlooking ‘Bayou Chuchut’, as coined by Nolan. Chuchut is a Cajun word for anything you don’t know the name for, and it sounds much better than our term, “whatchamacallit”. It made perfect sense now that Nolan would have a living room that allowed him to feel like he was outside with the egrets, herons,
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squirrels and, occasionally, all the usual bayou critters. That room was like being in a wildlife preserve. By now, my mood had lightened, as if I was simply here to visit. I couldn’t help spending the first few minutes admiring the scene and the active wildlife, but I was determined to make myself focus on my prepared questions and get a chronological storyline. Focusing just proved to be impossible! Nolan’s creations were everywhere in this room as well, and one by one, they periodically stole my attention in an almost staccato method. It wasn’t until I finally gave in and allowed myself to stray, asking about each of these pieces throughout their home, that the story of his life was slowly woven for me to piece together. The tales behind each piece of art were like threads that tied together his career changes, his wonderful marriage to Debbie, and revealed a glimpse into his mind and motivations. In weaving, there are warp threads, the verticals, and the weft threads, which wind horizontally back and forth across the warp until they finally create a sturdy fabric. These two threads intertwine, as you will see, and create a balance in this artist/scientist that is our EFOP. Nolan’s most recent students know him as an art teacher, which is how I met him and all I have ever known of him. But I quickly learned that his first students encountered him as their science teacher. For me, this early part of his career, and the passion he still has for the sciences, is like the warp thread. It is behind most of his motivations, and spurs his inquisitive explorations. Nolan explained that his undergraduate degree was in Biology. “But I took most of my electives in art studio classes. My degree was delayed when Uncle Sam invited me to dance with him in the Vietnam War. After I returned and finished my degree, I was full of knowledge and felt compelled to share it through teaching. As I looked at job prospects though, I realized I would need a Master’s degree to break into a science career. Eventually, I became certified to teach general science, biology and chemistry, and I loved teaching the sciences for six years. They also had me delving into physics, as they didn’t have a teacher for that subject for a period of time. Following that position, I received a job teaching science in the Gifted Program at Mandeville Jr. High School for four years. The Gifted Program allowed me to be creative with the curriculum, and I would conclude each unit with an arts application. For example, if we studied light, it resulted in a pinhole camera project. The visual arts and science are so closely related, and it was great to have the freedom to share this concept with my students.”
“When I went back to school at Southeastern Louisiana University for my Masters in Education with an emphasis in Fine Art, I took as many studio classes as possible. At Southeastern, I took photography, drawing, painting, and sculpture, but I focused on ceramics. I was actually very close to another degree in visual arts, but I didn’t see that as a viable career at the time. Beginning with high school, even in the service, I was teaching myself to paint and experiment with various media.”
Now Nolan had his turn chuckling. “I was thinking outside the box, and put a rubber ear in with my application, hoping it would be interpreted correctly,” he said. This was about the time I was Assistant Coordinator in the program, and I definitely remembered that ear. The reference to the famous Post-Impressionist painter Van Gogh and his infamous ear legend made Nolan’s application stand out from the others, and he was hired. In fact, I concluded that he doesn’t just think outside of the box. There are no boxes in Nolan’s thought process.
If you’ve never taken an art class, you might be surprised to hear that those classes consume much more time than traditional classes. The hard part for an artist is to stop changing, adding and perfecting, to call a piece finished.
Nolan continued, “So I started my next career teaching art. I was really excited about the challenge. I knew my breadth of media was perfect for teaching in the Talented Program, and I had used art concepts in science classes. The two are so parallel, that it wasn’t as abrupt of a change as most people might think. I already had the pinhole camera unit, and I had taught a metal science unit that I could turn into a metal casting unit for art students. It just seemed to embrace everything I had ever done and pulled it into one career. I think somewhere in the back of my mind, I must have known all my life that I was destined for this. Now, I was able to direct my service to local arts organizations like the Louisiana Art Education Association, St. Tammany Art Association, and as President of the Slidell Art League.”
“A position became available in the Talented Arts Program, and so I applied,” Nolan said enthusiastically. I associate his second career, and his passion for the arts, with the weft thread. These two subjects have been woven together to create the fabric that is his creative and inquisitive nature.
I don’t know how many of you are aware of this side of Nolan, but one of his biggest contributions to the community was his volunteer work on set designs. He built many a set for Debbie’s school plays, and later for the Slidell Little Theatre. If you had attended “Into the Woods” in 1994, you would have probably joined the rest of the audience as they clapped in awe the minute the curtain went up. Nolan won “Best Set Design” that year, needless to say. If you missed that, perhaps you saw the interactive floats and costumes Nolan designed for Debbie the year she was 7
interject that inspiration can be lost if you have to stop to gather the right materials, so Nolan’s expeditions were very prudent.
Queen of the Krewe of Mona Lisa and MoonPie? Debbie chose the “Wizard of Oz” as her theme since it was the most memorable sets he designed for her throughout the years and years of school plays they worked on together. Her whole krewe marched in the midst of a rolling set design that year, with helium balloons holding up their rainbow, and lights glittering throughout. Nolan costumed as, I bet you can guess, the Wizard! “It seems like so much of my life has followed this same slow unconscious movement toward a goal that I would not fully identify until it finally comes to fruition. I remember using the backs of my science poster boards for paintings. I still have my first one. It was expedient on one level, but looking back now, I see that this merging of my two passions happened naturally, with no forethought. While I was on research expeditions, I would gather materials which would later become a sculpture, or I would bring back the inspiration for a group of water colors, oil paintings, and sculptural forms.” I can almost see the thread of art moving back and forth across his natural artifacts. As an artist myself, I have to
“I spent three years living in Southeast Asia and a couple of weeks in Mexico. As much as I enjoyed these experiences in each of these locales, it really made me appreciate home and the USA. I remember a painting I made when I was in the Air Force. It was of a cartoon guy casting a spell on the universe. That was my escape. I also collected specimens from the beautiful Philippine jungles, which is where I spent my time when I was off duty. In Vietnam, I spent my leave time on the white beaches and tall sand dunes, and swimming in the clear, blue South China Sea. In the midst of mayhem, I was so conscious of the beauty in those environments and the displaced connection with my homeland in America.” In my mind’s eye, I see that cartoon guy looking a lot like Nolan. He would be dressed almost like Mickey in “Fantasia”. Through his creations, Nolan has cast that spell on me, and I know the same is true for others who know his art. Nolan brings me back to the present with his comment, “To this day, every trip Debbie and I take, I bring back something that finds its way into my heart or my art.” Again, I looked around the room and we identified some of these pieces. As Nolan saw me smiling at them he said, “Humor is a big part of my work, I think because I am a happy person. Even with my serious pieces, the humor angle just comes out, even if uninvited.” After we meandered awhile Nolan proclaimed, “Our goal now is to visit every state in the US.” That humor wound its way into my heart. Each time we looked at a piece of his together, I got to hear the story behind the story. It really was like going to an interactive nature museum. His art seemed to refer back to science so often. And yet, it retained an almost mystical quality.
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It took both Debbie and Nolan to complete the story about their trip out west to visit the Grand Canyon, the red rocks of Sedona, and the artwork in Santa Fe. Nolan began, “We arrived on a sleeper train, then rented a car and meandered the area, state by state. At one point we were looking at the maps to see where we would wander next. There was a high road, and a low road, from Santa Fe to Taos. Together we decided to take the high road, and got lost. Turning around, we found a sign leading to the low road to Taos. Meandering through canyons and hills, we found ourselves lost again. The sun was going down and we were low on fuel. But we persevered and eventually found our way back to the condo. The artwork and the churches and cathedrals were all amazing. We got to see the oldest church in the U.S., San Miguel Chapel. On another day, we just happened to arrive in Santa Fe during the effigy of the Holy Mother. We jumped in the procession as if we knew what we were doing, and entered the little cathedral. The experience was quite moving. In another church encounter, the congregation was invited to collect holy dirt from the back room. I looked at Debbie and whispered, ‘We have to get some.’ When we entered the little back room, we saw crutches hanging all over the walls, from those who were healed. One family brought a couple of really large zip lock bags, and they were digging and filling them while we waited outside,” Nolan described.
Debbie’s eyes sparkled and she added, “I grabbed Nolan’s arm and said, ‘There might not be much left when we finally get through this line.’ But, when we finally got a turn, that hole was still filled right to the very top. It was as if no one had touched it. These kinds of magical things happen with the two of us when we are on travels.” Now, Nolan carries a backpack with ziplock bags and tools. In case you are wondering, that dirt is upstairs waiting for a project. Nolan summed it up, “We stumble upon things that we didn’t know we were looking for. That trip was just one magical moment after another.” Asking if he had any favorite pieces, he answered, “They are all my babies, I couldn’t choose between them.” I can definitely relate with that, as I had a terrible time choosing my favorites to purchase at his last exhibition. Next, I asked him what his favorite media was, and he winked and answered, “Which ever one I am working on at the time. If it sits still long enough, I will make something out of it.” To punctuate this fact, he pointed out the window, and said, “I built my studio literally by my own two hands. A neighbor offered me a nail gun,
and I’m not sure he understood why I declined and wanted it all done by hand. Debbie and I built that dock right there, too.” He asked me if I could discern what the shape of the dock was supposed to depict. Being visual myself, I had to actually draw the shape on my notes, in order to see what it would look like from an aerial viewpoint. It turned out to be as obvious as the nose on my face - a key! I’m telling you, there was a surprise everywhere I looked, even if it didn’t register at first glance. Nolan’s final story was about his students. “I have gotten so many inspirational letters from my past students. My former Gifted students have told me that our crazy experiments were their inspiration to become doctors, teachers, and very successful scientists. They are what made teaching worthwhile. One of my past Talented Art students is now a successful scenic designer in a theatre. She expressed that she missed working with me, so I invited her over. We made our 2014 Christmas cards together. I make my own every year, but this season I got to work with a student again.”
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“My life has been so fulfilling and enjoyable at the same time. I’m lucky that my life let me play.” He smiled a very contented smile that seemed to drift forever, as if this story made the final knot in our tapestry for today. Personally, I am hoping to receive one of his cards for Christmas this year, to add to the collection I have purchased over the years from Nolan Lefort - an amazing artist and scholar.
This year, make your Holiday Memories Everlasting!
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My Christmas Story Circa 1955-1960
I never saw a white Christmas. It was supposed to snow one year but it didn’t. I never saw a sleigh or had a sleigh ride. I never saw a chestnut, and certainly not one roasting on an open fire. Fireplaces were passé. Only people poorer than us used them. For years, I could not relate to Johnny Mathis’s Christmas songs. There was little surprise for me on Christmas Day. I knew, like every other year, I would get a pair of underwear, two walnuts and a nutcracker from my maternal grandmother. I also knew that I would get a sack of pecans and some home parched peanuts from my paternal grandmother. Both the pecans and peanuts she grew, and they would be presented in a brown paper bag with no bows or ribbons.
Our Christmas tree was just a small pine with large lights on it about the size of your thumb. That was before LEDs, and when one went out, they all went out; so they only worked a couple of days. More affluent people had lights that looked like candles and bubbles that went up the stem when lit. I wished for some of those, but it never happened. The only other decorations on the tree were pieces of tin foil twisted crudely into Christmas figures. Most of those figures were bells because they were easy to make. There were a few Hershey Chocolate Silver Bell candies glued to a ribbon and hung on the tree, but we ate those the first day. About that time, some company (maybe Hallmark) designed a Christmas card that had
a slot to put money in. My aunts and uncles all gave me one of those with a dollar bill in it. I am sure if they had been designed to hold change, there would have been a quarter. A quarter was my favorite coin at that time. From Mom and Dad, I would get one gift that was fun. I usually knew what it was because they had asked me a dozen times what I wanted. I also had shaken the package and summed up the size to have a better idea of what was inside. One year, I got a toy tool set. Christmas dinner was usually at my maternal grandmother’s, but occasionally it was at our house. I never saw a turkey on the table. We lived on a small farm and I knew a lot of
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farmers, but I had never seen a single one of them that raised even one turkey. I always wondered where turkeys came from. I just assumed they came from the land of sleighs and chestnuts. That would be up north. What we did have was several baked hens. Now, if you don’t know the difference between a hen and a chicken, then you should ask your butcher and try one. In fact, I have one baking and one boiling for stock as I write this.
Aunt Minnie lived in Shreveport. That was a long way away. She was my daddy’s aunt, and I know Minnie was not her real name, but that is the only one I knew. We visited her I think three times in my life. She never came to visit us. She was an eccentric woman who lived alone. I think she had been married because I had heard talk about Uncle Epp, but he must have been dead. Divorce just was not something that happened; and if it did happen, it was not talked about. I liked her. I think if I had lived near her I would have had a relationship with her, much as Truman Capote did with his Aunt Sook in his book A Christmas Memory. I think every time I saw her she was dressed in the same long, cotton, faded dress that extended to her ankles. She was very thin with long fingers and a long nose. I don’t want you to think she was unattractive, because what she missed in physical appearance, she made up in her happy demeanor. I especially liked the fact that she seemed to relate to me more than the adults. I heard Daddy say that was because she just had the mind of a child herself.
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We had plenty to eat: dressing, sweet potatoes, butterbeans we had frozen in the summer, macaroni and cheese; but there was one dish that I looked forward to the most. That was ambrosia. Everything in it was good and it was such a pretty color. Ambrosia must have been the ultimate gift from the Christmas gods for me. Oranges, coconut, nuts, bananas, cherries and all kinds of pretty things were in it that made it look like Christmas. Of all the things about the holiday season I remember, ambrosia sticks out in my mind. That is, except Aunt Minnie.
I think she may have been a creative person, or at least wanted to be. I remember she had an easel near a window in her house. There was a palette of oil paints nearby and an unfinished painting of a bowl with some fruit in it. She said she was working on her still life technique. I don’t remember it being very good.
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In one room, the entire wall was covered with photographs of Gene Autry. Daddy said she had a crush on him that was unnatural. The rest of the house was a clutter. Today she would be called a hoarder. It was not very clean either.
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In the kitchen, the dishes had not been washed in days, even though she knew she had guests coming. The worst thing, in my parents’ opinion, was the fact that she had three cats that roamed the counters where
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she prepared the food. Mother and Daddy had no tolerance for animals in the house, let alone in the kitchen - and they especially did not like cats. Daddy insisted that food be prepared in an almost sterile environment. He could have been the head inspector for the Center of Disease Control if there had been one back then. He always had an excuse as to why we could not eat at Aunt Minnie’s. Each year, a few days before Christmas, a package would arrive from Aunt Minnie. It was a box of chocolate fudge. Twenty five pieces, which I suppose was meant for each of us to have five pieces. It was always opened; then, with no further inspection, pitched in the trash. Too nasty to eat. How many years this had gone on, I don’t know. But, one year, I retrieved it from the trash. I was then, and still am, a chocolate addict. I took it to my secret spot. The one every child has. The one you did not think your parents knew about, but of course, they did. MasterCard Ad 8x5.1 102014 IN.pdf
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The place where I would, in the future, go to look at girly pictures. But not now - that would be later. I remember that first bite. As my teeth sank into the inch size square, my bottom teeth felt something hard. I took the candy out of my mouth, thinking something nasty and horrible had to be there. To my surprise, it was a quarter. Each piece had a quarter in it. Six dollars and twenty five cents of my favorite coins, possibly worth more than all my other gifts together. You bet I never told anyone, and for several years, my new year started out with a fat pocket of money. I guess you could call this my ‘dirty money’. Several years passed. One year, the box came and it was much larger than usual. It was opened and, to everyone’s surprise, there was a fruit cake inside. Mother and Dad loved fruit cake, but I hated them. I was disappointed but knew it would shortly be in the trash can. 10/20/14
I was disappointed that it was not chocolate fudge, but I could not let my mind stop thinking about how much money could be in a fruitcake; maybe a pint, or maybe even two pints, of silver dollars. My hands tore through the fruit cake, and there was nothing. Tucked in the side of the box, was a note: This fruit cake was prepared for your Aunt Minnie in our Kitchen, and sent to you with her love. Deloit Bakeries Shreveport, Louisiana “Good Things From Us to You Since 1900” Aunt Minnie did not live until the next Christmas; but over the years, I have thought of how much she must have cared for us and how much pride she must have taken in pouring the molten fudge over those quarters.
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Slidell Restaurant Icons:
#1 Olde Towne Soda Shop I was thinking about the different neighborhoods in the New Orleans area and their signature restaurants. When you think of Metairie you may think of Drago’s or Andrea’s. Chalmette’s a no-brainer with Rocky and Carlos. Trey Yuen, for me, represents Mandeville. But what about Slidell?
reflects both the original atmosphere in it’s entirety while integrating several new twists on the orginal formula.
It might be a little harder to develop a list of signature Slidell restaurants. Several just don’t exist anymore - because of Katrina or the economy or just a changing population.
Ok, enough history. How’s the food? How’s the experience? One that was certainly on that “aint there no more” list was the Olde Towne Soda Shop. And most of us assumed it would remain on that list forever. You can check out the relatively strange story of how the Soda Shop reopened on their website. (slidellsodashop.com) Business partners Original proprieter Frank Jackson and new partner Morris Hawkins have put together a place that
After last month’s discussion of fast food, it’s nice to cover a place that doesn’t put speed of preparation on top of its priority list. Depending on the crowd, you may have to wait - but don’t be impatient. Take the time to play some games or, even better, enjoy some conversation. Your kids can stare at their phones. The food is what you might expect. A bunch of sandwiches, burgers, fries, onion rings, etc. I’ve tried several of the sandwiches over the past few months.
My favorite is the muffuletta. Theirs is toasted. It’s not the classic Central Grocery style but I always wondered who prefers a cold muffuletta anyway? The Soda Shop’s po-boys are some of the best you can get in Slidell. It’s hard to describe what makes theirs especially good. A po-boy is simple to make but I’ve had enough bad ones to know the good ones take talent.
Another highlight is the comically large hot dog. I once witnessed a lady accidentally order two because she had no idea how gargantuan they would be. When I visited to take these pictures I didn’t order ice cream (it’s almost impossible to have lunch and dessert here because of the portion size.) It’s actually made in the Soda Shop - and it does taste better than pretty much anything you can get elsewhere. Next month we’ll take another look at a Slidell restaurant icon. If you have a favorite restaurant in the area let us know. Send suggestions to: editor@slidellmag.com
HAPPY BIRTHDAY
Wilderness!
Photos & Story by Donna Bush As we celebrate our holiday season, there are many things to be thankful for. As a nature photographer, I am thankful for my eyesight to behold nature’s beauty and I’m thankful there is so much beauty to behold. From a butterfly flitting flower to flower, Fall colors, animals – wild and domestic - sunrises, sunsets, backyard beauty, national parks and more. Our lives would be bleak without so much preserved land set aside for us to enjoy. This year is the 50th anniversary of The Wilderness Act. According to the National Park Service website nps.gov, “The Wilderness Act, signed into law in 1964, created the National Wilderness
Preservation System and recognized wilderness as ‘an area where the earth and its community of life are untrammeled by man, where man himself is a visitor who does not remain.’” The Wilderness Act states that wilderness areas are established “to assure that an increasing population, accompanied by expanding settlement and growing mechanization, does not occupy and modify all areas within the United States and its possessions, leaving no lands designated for preservation and protection in their natural condition.” Today, wilderness is designated for a variety of benefits, including clean water and air,
habitat for rare plants, and animals; as well as primitive recreation. As part of a competition to attend the 10th World Wilderness Congress, high school students were asked to define what “wild” meant to them. Following are some of the responses: “To me, wild means pure. Being wild is natural and raw, unblemished by human actions. Keeping nature wild is important in keeping animals and environments around for many lifetimes, untarnished. I cannot imagine a world without wilderness to learn about and explore.”
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“‘Wild’ is a place that one can go to get away from all human contact to enjoy the inspirational animals and scenery, without the sight of manmade structures and sounds. ‘Wild’ is living among nature without bondage, free from human interactions. Wild animals, plants, and flowers that grow and survive without cultivation or help from humans live in the wild. The wild is a place of clean environments without human’s pollution and wastes. Wild environments are areas of fresh air, without the smell of chimney smoke and car exhaust, they contain fresh water without the fear of chemical pollutions, and plenty of food and space for animals and plants to thrive.” “When I think of the word wild, I envision majestic mountains, creeks, animals hunting and grazing, fish jumping, free flowing water, sunsets, freezing winds, blossoming flowers, the Northern Lights, etc. To me, wild means natural beauty. It is the purest form of attraction. It means getting back to the roots of things. It is that power deep within a being which just comes naturally. Wild is freedom to grow and change.” To me, wild means a place I can escape from people, traffic, noise, and stress. When I worked full time as a Telecommunications Specialist for the federal government, I was desperate to get away from people, from stressors, from computers... and just relax. For me, nature became my safety net, my escape, and my solitude. Currently, there are more than 106 million acres of federal public lands designated as “wilderness”, which is the highest level of conservation protection for federal lands and can only be designated by Congress. It sounds like a lot of land, but in reality, it is only about 5% of the entire United States, with Alaska containing just over half the total acreage. The four federal land management agencies directed to oversee these lands are The U.S. Forest Service (USFS), The Bureau of Land Management (BLM), The U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service (USF&WS) and The National Park Service (NPS). Management of Wilderness Areas is essentially the same for all oversight agencies, although each agency’s policies might differ from another. Anyone can recommend to Congress that an area be designated as Wilderness, although most recommendations come from one of the managing government agencies or an organized group. It is not a fast process, as Congress must consider everyone’s opinion. There are many requests from U.S. F&WS and NPS that have been pending for years.
Some of the requirements that must be met are: - Is the area 5000 acres or larger? Or a roadless island? - Does the area appear to be natural and is human presence mostly unnoticeable? - Does the area offer a space for primitive and unconfined recreational activities such as camping, hiking, skiing? - Are there opportunities for solitude? - Are there features present of ecological, geological, scientific, educational, scenic or historical significance? The Wilderness Act limits commercial services and prohibits permanent roads. Wilderness areas are meant to be affected by the forces of nature. Clearing of downed trees is not allowed. However, The Wilderness Act does recognize the need to provide for human health and safety, such as protection of private property, fire fighting and insect infestation control. Louisiana has three Wilderness areas, two managed by U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service; Breton Sound and Lacassine, and one managed by U.S. Forest Service; Kisatchie Hills. Breton Sound is located off the delta of the Mississippi River in the Gulf of Mexico and accessible only by boat. Most people reach Breton Sound from the Mississippi Gulf Coast or Venice, Louisiana. It is a popular nesting spot for the once endangered Brown Pelican, Louisiana’s state bird, and a critical habitat for many other wading birds. Breton Sound was drastically affected by Hurricane Katrina, losing some 70% of its landmass.
Lacassine, primarily a freshwater marsh, located in southwestern Louisiana at the southern end of the Mississippi and Central Flyways, offers feeding and resting habitat for over 300,000 ducks and 80,000 geese. This Wilderness also provides valuable nesting habitat for a variety of wading birds, shorebirds, marsh birds and many mammals. It was home to the first nesting colony of cattle egrets discovered outside of Florida. Access to the Lacassine Wilderness area is by walking, paddling or push-poling a boat. Kisatchie Hills, located northwest of Alexandria, is the state’s largest designated Wilderness area, known as the “Little Grand Canyon”, and showcases topography that most would believe was located anywhere BUT Louisiana! Kisatchie offer unusually steep and rugged terrain with flat-topped mesas and sandstone bluffs. There’s even a waterfall and hiking trailheads that you can be drive to. Even if you don’t take advantage of a designated Wilderness Area, there are many areas in our community or nearby that offer much of nature’s bounty to be enjoyed. I challenge each of you to think about what “Wild” means to you, then go observe and enjoy something that wilderness has to offer! “Wilderness is a resource which can shrink but not grow... the creation of new wilderness in the full sense of the word is impossible.” ~ Aldo Leopold - American author, scientist, ecologist, forester, and environmentalist, and a founder of the science of wildlife management
19
Of Your Money By Mike Rich
Pontchartrain Investment Management
A Christmas Eve Miracle When I was growing up, my family spent Christmas Eve visiting with relatives. It was our tradition, year in and year out. We’d start at my grandfather’s house at about 6:30 in the evening, then move on to visit my aunt and her family, who lived next door. After gorging ourselves from a Whitman’s Sampler (my aunt always had one at Christmas), we’d drive across town to my cousin Karen’s home, where my mother’s five siblings and their families gathered for a huge feast of food, drinks, cigars for the men, and pierogi handmade by my Polish grandmother. One of the exciting things about the evening was the drive across town, during which we enjoyed the Christmas lights and decorations. On one Christmas Eve in particular, when
Merry Christmas to You and Yours!
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I was about eight or nine years old, we were headed to my cousin’s house and had just turned the corner onto a snowy street. There, right in front of us, in all his red-suited glory, was Santa Claus himself, running between two houses. I was old enough to have my doubts about the “real” Santa; but, at that moment, I believed. Fast-forward about 17 or 18 years. This time, Mary and I were driving down that same snowy Chicago street with our new baby daughter, Heather. True to our family tradition, we were on our way from my aunt’s house to my cousin’s to enjoy Christmas Eve (and those handmade pierogis). I was telling Mary how, when I was a child, I had seen Santa running between two houses. Believe it or not, no sooner than the words came out of my mouth, we saw Santa, running between those same two houses. Mary and I looked at each other and knew we had witnessed a Christmas miracle: Santa is real. Here at Pontchartrain Investment Management, we don’t necessarily believe in miracles (especially when it comes to money), but we do embrace holiday traditions. Traditions help define our families and our lives, and they’re important. And, because my job is to create financial confidence, I want my clients and their families to develop healthy money traditions, as well as the ones they enjoy at holiday times. I know that good money traditions can be the defining difference between financial success and financial mediocrity. So, consider adding these financial traditions to the way you and your family deal with money: Make a decision to be in control of your financial life. When I ask prospective clients to consider working with me, a lot of people say, “Oh, I don’t have enough money to work with a financial advisor.”
Ironically, it’s those folks who need me the most, because I can help them make every dollar count. To be honest, the biggest hindrance to achieving financial security for many people isn’t a shortage of money, it’s procrastination. My dad, who never earned more than $19,000 a year, had an investment advisor. Together, they built a nice retirement fund for my dad and mom by saving and investing a small amount of money every month for about 40 years. If my dad (and his advisor) could do it, just about anyone can. The end of the year is a great time to get started. Call me. Get (and stay) financially organized. This is more than just knowing where all of your important financial papers are. Financial organization is about setting goals, having a plan, and knowing how the various parts of your money life fit together. For example, if your car insurance liability limits are too low, the savings you’ve been building for retirement could go up in smoke if you are sued (and lose) over a car accident. Most of the money things in your life are interdependent. Financial organization is all about knowing how they fit together. Don’t try to figure it out yourself. Call me and I’ll help you. Protect your assets. You might be getting tired of reading this in just about every article I write, but bad things happen to most of us from time to time. If you are not protecting the assets you already have – and the ones you are building – a big piece of your financial puzzle is missing. Life insurance is essential, and so is disability insurance to protect your income if you can’t work. And, even though it might be a long time in the future, planning for long term care is important. The costs are going up and the probability is high that you’ll need it (about 70% for a 65-year old). A sound long term care strategy can protect tens of thousands of dollars in assets so you and your family can enjoy them, rather than handing them over to a nursing home. I can show you five different ways to deal with this. Spend less than you earn. There is no better family money tradition than that to build up a healthy rate of savings. I like to see at least 15% of my clients’ gross income eventually go into savings and investments, but any amount is better than none. If you can’t do 15%, consider 10%, or even 5. Anything more than zero. And, make it automatic. Also, be sure to do some investing outside of your employer plan so you can easily get to your money for an emergency, special spending need, or business opportunity. Call me and I’ll help you put together a plan that will work for you. That year, when Mary, Heather, and I saw Santa Claus running between those two houses, was the last time we observed my family’s tradition of Christmas Eve visiting. As we settled into our life in Slidell, we decided to spend Christmas here, in our home and among the new friends we were making. We’ve established some new traditions to share with our own children, and it has made our Christmas holidays rich with memories.
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My hope is that your traditions bring you and your family happiness, and that you will consider kicking off the new year with me as your financial advisor.
Merry Christmas to you and yours. 21
Sponsored by
by Corey Hogue
In the thick of football season, we all know how easy it is to get caught up in the game. The flick of the quarterback’s wrist as the ball flies down the field, a receiver reaching up, barely getting their hands on the ball and bringing it down, and an opposing player careening into the receiver, trying to both tackle and jar the ball loose at the same time. The fans cheer, coaches start calling the next play, and the players start to line up. Not much thought is given to the inner workings of any of it, really. But, suddenly, writhing on the field, the receiver isn’t getting up yet. It’s a heart-stopping moment for parents, coaches, colleagues, and you can almost feel a somber prayer beginning for the player on the field. Yes, it is very easy to get caught up in the game, in the moments that excite us. Injuries, though, bring us back to earth. Abruptly, we are brought back to the reality of just how dangerous this game can be. It’s in these heart-wrenching moments that we can see the character of the players on the
field in how they react to these moments. At these times, there are no teams, there is no competition. A human being is down, is hurt. And, luckily, most of the time, those moments allow us to see the humanity of the players that we put so high on pedestals week after week, who are our players, out there for our entertainment. Unfortunately, not all players are so virtuous. There are so many stories involving players that do whatever it takes to win or being just outright ugly to each other. And it really makes you wonder,
“Why?” Take for example the NFL’s Ndamukong Suh. Ndamukong, from the time he entered the NFL, has created a reputation of being a nasty defensive player. He is almost proud that his legacy has become this big negative image. He preys on it. And sometimes, that nastiness goes too far. In a Thanksgiving Day game in 2011, he pushed an opposing player’s head to the ground three times and stepped on his arm, all AFTER the whistle was called. The act was so egregious that he was ejected from the game and suspended for another two. You’d think that ejection would ring in a player’s ear to cool it, but not this guy. The NEXT Thanksgiving Day game he played, he kicked the opposing quarterback in the groin. On purpose. It’s kinda hard to see the meaning of sportsmanship with such an example. But, THANKFULLY, all players are not created equal. If players like this were all that sports were made of, we would miss out on some truly amazing stories. Which is what I’d rather focus on...
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On October 11th of this year, LSU and Florida had another exciting, close game. For many of us, this is THE college football game of the season. During the final minutes of the game, Florida receiver Latroy Pittman went down with what seemed to be a serious injury. Medical personnel came, assessed the situation, and brought him off the field. Commonly, in these injury moments, players take off their helmets and go down to a knee. Some are even seen praying. The LSU players, though, continued to stay on a knee, even after their own (also) injured teammate got up and left the field, until the Florida player was carted away. Florida fan Kyle Morgan was so impressed by the reaction of the LSU players that he posted a very complimentary speech on Facebook, which was picked up by the Times Picayune. “...I have to stop and thank Les Miles and the LSU Tigers. As some are aware, LSU tends to be seen as rougher around the edges than is normal in the SEC. However, their class in the last minute of the game proved exactly why they deserved to win. Upon Latroy’s injury, they removed their helmets and knelt in respect for a fallen player. They clapped when their own injured player got up but remained on their knees with helmets off since ours was still being strapped onto the board to be carted off. LSU continued exhibiting the kind of wellled honor that any decent coach would instill in his players by approaching Latroy once he was on the cart and expressing their sympathies. Indeed after two dozen LSU players had done so a few Gators broke ranks and showed they could learn from a good example by doing the same. So I would like to thank Les Miles for improving the lives of roughly a dozen Gators more in five minutes than Will Muschamp had done in YEARS.” He went on to talk about how disgusted he was with the Florida sideline, when “only six of our more than 70 players knelt,” and how coach Will Muschamp took the time to yell at his defense instead of focusing on the injured player. The fact that a fan took the time to send this message just goes to show how big an impact sportsmanship can have, and how people DO notice it. It should be something to be proud of, not a challenge to overcome. Earlier in the same month, Wapsie Valley of Fairbank and Grundy Center high schools had a similar sickening moment. Wapsie quarterback Andrew Buzynski went down with a serious head injury. After the game ended, Wapsie players knelt and
looked visibly shaken. As the teams met at midfield, two of the Grundy Center players noticed a Wapsie player wandering, upset, by himself on another corner of the field. The Grundy Center players embraced the Wapsie player, a freshman. The image of the hug went viral on Facebook. When players take the time to be respectful of their peers and the game around them, these amazing moments happen. Luckily, Andrew is now doing well and even watched his teammates on the sidelines a week later. Probably one of the best examples of sportsmanship during these heartbreaking injury moments started on a typical Saturday in April. Western Oregon’s baseball player, Sara Tucholsky, a part-time player that had had very little hits at-bats, initiated what seemed like an underdog-type of moment when she hit a home run to send her and two of her teammates to home. After her two teammates hit home, the coach looked over to see that Sara had collapsed. She had passed up first and doubled back to try to hit the base. In the process, her right knee gave out. The umpire informed the coach that if he attempted to help her, she would be considered out. And if she was
unable to touch first, her home-run would be erased but the team would keep the two scores from her teammates. As the coach began to make preparations to replace Sara, something happened that would change the lives of everyone involved that day. Opposing team Central Washington’s Mallory Holtman, without even a hint of hesitation, asked if it would be ok if she carried Sara across the bases. For Mallory, this was her last home game. She would be going on to graduate school and then on to a coaching career at Central after this game. She held most of the offensive statistic records at her school. But none of that mattered with a player down, even as she sat on the cusp of going on to her first postseason appearance. She and a teammate of hers picked Sara up and rounded the bases, stopping at each one to tap her foot on the base. Encouraged by a standing ovation from the crowd, they dropped off Sara into the waiting arms of her teammates. Central Washington would go on to lose the game against Western Oregon, 4-2, but the score is not the most lasting memory of the game. Mallory’s only attitude was, “Honestly, it’s one of those things that I hope anyone would do for me. I think anyone who knew that we could touch her would have offered to do it, just because it’s the right thing to do.” I think Western Oregon coach Pam Knox put it best when she talked about the moment, saying, “It kept everything in perspective and the fact that we’re never bigger than the game.” There are plenty more examples of players who are not the best pillars of sportsmanship. But LSU and Florida, Wapsie Valley and Grundy Center, and Western Oregon and Central Washington and many more give us a reason to believe in sportsmanship. None of the players in these examples needed to pray for each other, to give a brotherly hug, or lend a helping hand. They did it because, in these moments, they realized that humans play these sports. They are “never bigger than the game.” There are no opponents and no enemies when players are hurt; when the game is no longer a game. These heartwarming stories restore my faith in the humanity of the people who play these sports that we watch all year long, focusing on wins. Especially during this time of year, I can’t think of a more perfect thing to focus on than the help and support of your fellow man.
Happy Holidays from Jockularity! 23
Get ready... It’s time for
Christmas in Slidell
One of my earliest Christmas memories was visiting Griffith Park with my family. At that time, Griffith Park was THE place to be in Slidell - Christmas time, or any other time of the year. I remember the smell of the fresh hay from the Live Nativity, and seeing a real sheep for the first time. I would stare into the windows of Santa’s Workshop, as all of his elves mechanically made the toys that would be delivered to the world right here, from my own home town. I would run into the baby blue Recreation Building and warm myself with sips of hot chocolate between playtime with my all my friends, then back outside again for more wide-eyed wonder at the lights and Christmas trees that blanketed the park. Fast forward 20 years. Again, I’m at Griffith Park during the city’s Christmas celebration, visiting with family and friends. I remember feeling that same childhood excitement - even more, actually - because the memories of my youth now mingled with the sounds of my friends’ children as they experienced Christmas in the park for their first time. Slidell’s Christmas celebrations have grown and changed over the years, offering our community even more wonderment to share with our loved ones this holiday season. Here’s what our beautiful city has for you: 24
Slidell’s Bayou Christmas The Boys & Girls Clubs of Southeast Louisiana’s Slidell Club is proud to partner with the City of Slidell to present the first annual “Slidell’s Bayou Christmas Festival” in Heritage Park from December 18-24. The event is a magical celebration to raise money and awareness for the Boys & Girls Club in Slidell. All proceeds from the event will support programs and activities for youth at the Slidell Club. This 7 night festival will have a light display unlike anything we’ve ever seen in Slidell before! TENS OF THOUSANDS of lights, set to music, will illuminate the park from huge LED boards that were created by the volunteers and members of the Boys and Girls Club. This light fantasia has been a year-long project that has resulted in more than just Christmas eye-candy. Keila Stovall, President & CEO of Boys & Girls Clubs of Southeast Louisiana, says, “What stands out to me about this project is the commitment to the Boys and Girls Club and the kids that has been created through our volunteer base. Many people came to the table because of the light project and commitment to the community. What appears to have happened is that they have become smitten with the girls and boys at the Club and have become more committed than they ever expected.”
Keila goes on to say, “It would have been easier to do the construction without the assistance of little hands, but the volunteers have remained committed to involving the Club members. This project has provided opportunities for interaction with caring adults for these young people. This is one of the BGC core values. The time they are spending with the kids will have a longer lasting effect than the seven night event. They are demonstrating the lessons of character to these children.” Keila gives an example of how Slidell’s Bayou Christmas is changing lives in our community. “There was a young Club member that struggled to fit in and follow simple rules at the Club. He seemed to be constantly in trouble. Tommy (Benasco, one of the project founders) never hesitated to invite him to participate in the
special Christmas project and even trusted him to operate power tools. I witnessed this young man’s attitude change when he walked into the project room. He learned that he mattered and he had value. An important adult took the time to show him how to participate and contribute. I know this child struggled to understand his value. This project gave him confidence and purpose. It was amazing to see the transformation in his personality. I believe that will last long beyond the 2014 holiday season.” The money raised from Slidell’s Bayou Christmas is critically important. Keila notes, “The Boys & Girls Clubs in Slidell provides the opportunity for a safe place for children and teens to engage in fun, educational programs that increase their academic performance, encourage them to live a healthy lifestyle and demonstrate good character and citizenship. The holiday light project is a gift from a highly dedicated, selfless group of volunteers to the community of Slidell. This project will provide an opportunity to celebrate the season with friends and family. It will also be an important vehicle to create awareness of the Boys & Girls Club. Hopefully, others in Slidell will be inspired to discover ways they can use their passions and interests to contribute to the Club.”
The City of Slidell presents
Christmas UNDER THE STARS
December 5, 6 & 12, 13, 2014 Griffith Park in Olde Towne Slidell 6:00 - 9:00 PM • Free Admission
WHAT YOU WILL SEE: This will be a full 7 night Christmas Celebration with over 60,000 lights set to music in 25 displays. There will be FREE pictures with Santa Claus every night for all children, along with food vendors, a Bayou Arts & Crafts Village with 20 local artisans for last minute gifts, live entertainment each night by local Church and School Choirs and Bands. Be sure to dress up the kids for the Best Prince and Princess Costume Contest on Saturday, December 20. ADMISSION: FREE DAYS & HOURS: Thursday, Dec.18 - Dec. 24: 6pm-10pm Extended hours on Friday & Saturday, Dec. 19-20, until 11pm. Find them on Facebook:
Slidell’s Bayou Christmas
“Louisiana Christmas Critters” by Kera Lynn, STARC Artist
Holiday Lights & Decorations • Parade of Trees Visits from Santa & Mrs. Claus • Christmas Cottages Christmas Train & Village Display & “Artist to Artist: The Works of Adam Sambola and Kenny Bridges” art exhibit in Slidell City Hall Thanks to our 2014 - 2015 Cultural Season Sponsors: Renaissance, $5,000:
Slidell Boys & Girls Club volunteers and members work together at the Club on one of the many LED lighting displays for Slidell’s Bayou Christmas
Baroque, $2,500: CLECO Power, LLC • Winn-Dixie Expressionist, $1,500: Johnathan Johnson Agency, Blue Cross Blue Shield of LA • Ronnie Kole Foundation Neoclassical, $1,000: Lori Gomez Art • Lowry-Dunham, Case & Vivien Insurance Agency • The Purple Armadillo Again, LLC • The Slidell Independent Impressionism, $500: Bargains Plus/Postal Plus • Blue Bell Creameries • Councilman Bill & Laura Borchert • CiCi’s Pizza • Dr. Nathan Brown, Northlake Oral & Facial Surgery • Chateau Bleu • Representative Greg Cromer • In Memory of Wayne Dunne • Public Service Commissioner Eric Skrmetta • Northshore Harbor Center • Olde Towne Slidell Main Street • Pontchartrain Investment Management • Roberta’s Cleaners • Silver Slipper Casino • Slidell Historical Antique Association Terry Lynn’s Café & Creative Catering • Vicky Magas Insurance Agency
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Christmas Under the Stars Griffith Park, in Slidell’s historic Olde Towne, will once again be transformed into a magical winter wonderland. Big Santa (purchased from Blaine Kern’s Mardi Gras World, and shown on the previous page) awaits your arrival at “Christmas Under the Stars”, the City of Slidell’s Christmas celebration. The city offers two weekends of fun and activities, but the display remains throughout the entire month of December. If you’ve lived in Slidell for more than ten years, you’ll definitely want to revisit this Christmas family favorite! You will simply be AMAZED at the new and exciting things to see and do. Along with the new additions, you will be transported back in time to your youth when you see the refurbished and restored Christmas Cottages and train display. Kim Bergeron, former Director of Cultural Arts and Public Affairs for the City of Slidell, fills us in on just how far Slidell has come to rebuild this holiday traditon since the hurricane: “The city lost over $450,000 in Christmas decorations flooded by Katrina. This included, among other items, street pole decorations that had once lined Front Street and Gause Blvd., many of the lighted decorations that were displayed annually in Griffith Park, plus animatronics--families in the cabins and little penguins in the “igloo” made by a custom made tarp covering the monkey bars. The cottages all flooded and required extensive repair just to stabilize. The figurines in the cabins flooded so badly that they are were longer “animated.” The stable which held the animals was severely damaged to the point that we could no longer bring in the live animals.” Kim recalls a funny story about the former Live Nativity: “Prior to Katrina, among the Christmas cottages, there used to be a live nativity with donkeys and sheep. One year, one of the sheep escaped and ran through Olde Towne. Quite a few folks were chasing the elusive critter before Bob Schmitt from Public Ops tackled it after its romp around Olde Towne. It was an epic moment captured by a Times Picayune photographer and made the front page of the paper.” (Bob was given a “Sheep Happens” award at the City’s annual Christmas crew luncheon that year.) We get a glimpse of the evolution and rebirth of the city celebration through Kim’s recollections when she recalls, “The train exhibit used to be housed in the Recreation Center building in Griffith Park. After that building was destroyed by Katrina, the exhibit moved to several different locations - upstairs in the train
You Can Stay Healthy Through the Holidays! Get my strategies at
www.PursueWellnessForYou.com This life-sized Nativity, created by Artist Lori Gomez, reminds everyone who visits “Christmas Under the Stars” of the true meaning of Christmas
depot when we shared space with Slidell Art League, then to DuBuisson Gallery, then to City Hall in 2008 after that space was renovated post-Katrina.” And City Hall is where you can still find the beautiful and elaborate train exhibit, bigger and better than ever! WHAT YOU WILL SEE: Holiday lights, festive decorations, visits with Santa and Mrs. Claus, the Parade of Trees, the Life-sized Nativity and Christmas Cottages created by artist Lori Gomez, the Christmas Train and Village Display in City Hall and the “Artist to Artist: The Works of Adam Sambola & Kenny Bridges” art exhibit in the Slidell Cultural Center at City Hall are a few of the many surprises offered for kids of all ages.
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Chief Randy Smith, is one of the many Slidell public figures that will be reading stories to the children at “Christmas Under the Stars”.
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The Train Display construction begins...
Slidell’s Train Display Sam Caruso, Jr has has a life-long fascination with train sets. Receiving his first set for Christmas when he was just 8 years old, Sam began collecting and embellishing his miniature fantasyland of trains, tracks and villages year after year. In 1988, Sam’s father (then-mayor of Slidell, Sam Caruso, Sr) asked Sam and his friend, Trae Dever, to work closely with a group of Martin Marietta retirees. The boys, then in their teens, were tasked with developing and teaching the former employees and engineers how to operate and design a spectacular Christmas Train Display that could be enjoyed by everyone at the annual Christmas celebration in Griffith Park.
The results will AMAZE you!
From these humble beginnings, the tradition of Slidell’s Christmas Train Diplay was born! The set was originally displayed in the Recreation Building in Griffith Park and attracted thousands of visitors each year. The elaborate train display captivated the attention of all who saw it... Tiny figurines of people and animals on snowy hills... miniature villages with classic and new trains rolling through them... The set even had gingerbread houses - a great touch brought about by necessity because miniature house replicas hadn’t been purchased yet. After the inaugural year, the display was created, maintained and managed by the retirees, and remained there as a beautiful Slidell tradition through Christmas of 2004. In 2005, the Recreation Building and the City Barn (where the display was stored), along with most of the city’s Christmas decorations, were destroyed in Hurricane Katrina. For the first time since 1988, the trains didn’t roll for Christmas.
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In 2006, then-mayor Ben Morris wanted to resurrect the trains. The retirees were willing to help with the rebuild, but wanted to fade off of the project after the restoration. Sam and Trae jumped back in to bring the display back to our community. Along with a small team of dedicated and creative volunteers, Chris Richier and Graham Rashleigh (Graham was also
part of the Lockheed retiree team during the years prior to Katrina), the set was painstakingly restored and has rolled each year since. To rebuild the set, they went through all of the mess left after Katrina to see what could be salvaged. Anything electrical or containing a motor was a total loss. Some ceramic buildings and decorations were able to be cleaned and salvaged. The city started to purchase trains to replace the ones that were lost. Slidell citizens donated what was in their attics in an effort to get the diplay “back on track”. The train’s display is a combination of ‘O’ scale trains and ‘G’ Scale trains and buildings. The bigger scale is on display on the floor, for a more interactive feel when people walk through. This year, the Engineering Department from Slidell High will be rewiring the lighting for the display. Changes for this year include dark blue drapery with LED lighting to give a starry night appearance. There are even bigger plans for train exhibit for 2015! It will be a year-long labor of love in preparation for next year’s display. Sponsors are being sought, with the opportunity to truly become a part of this traditional Slidell landmark by having their business logos included in the display, on box cars, etc. ADMISSION: FREE DAYS & HOURS:
Friday & Saturday, Dec.5-6: 6pm-9pm Friday & Saturday, Dec.12-13: 6pm-9pm HOW CAN YOU HELP? 1. Monetary Donations: Written to the Cultural Arts Department, specifically noted that they are for the train display. 2. Train Donations: O scale and G scale trains, props and decoration donations. 3. Space Donation: A climate controlled warehouse space that could allow for a year long build would be AMAZING!! And VOLUNTEERS!! Everyone is welcome to be a part of the build. Seeking engineers, electricians, artists, and train enthusiasts of all ages! For more information, visit the City of Slidell website, or find them on Facebook:
City of Slidell, Louisiana
Christmas Cottages
Santa’s Workshop Elves BEFORE...
Slidell Magazine contributing writer, Artist Lori Gomez, had no idea the scope of the project she was undertaking when she first approached Alex Carollo, City of Slidell Director of Cultural Affairs, with the idea of restoring Santa’s Workshop and the Christmas Cottages of Griffith Park. The jolly Santas and animated elf figures we remember from our youth were mostly destroyed in 2005. Some of the cottages’ items were still filled with water from the storm. “They were pathetic,” Lori says. “It just broke my heart. The elves were down right scary and not at all what I think kids would have pictured them to be. I wanted to bring back the joy of Santa’s Workshop for all of the kids in Slidell.” With vision and creativity, Lori used all of her artistic prowess to recreate and rebuild the Workshop, as well as two additional Cottages - and every single thing inside of them - for the Slidell Christmas Village display in Griffith Park. Her painstaking attention to detail and hundreds of hours of creativity are journaled on the following pages. Here’s a photographic journey of Lori’s INCREDIBLE work...
... BEFORE
... AFTER
... AFTER
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TEMPTING THE
Palette Story and Art by Lori Gomez
Last year, I started a Life-Sized Nativity for the City of Slidell’s “Christmas Under the Stars” in Griffith Park. When I went to see the final setup, I noticed the cottage labeled “Santa’s Workshop” next to the nativity. So I took a closer look. Let’s just say, it left a lot to the imagination. Unfortunately, Hurricane Katrina destroyed most of the city’s Christmas props. I asked Alex Carollo, Director of Cultural Arts, if I could take charge of refurbishing Santa’s Workshop. Alex agreed. Over the summer, I went to work. The heat was relentless. It didn’t feel much like Christmas at all, but it was important to me to give the people of Slidell a real gift. I wanted young and old to have a magical experience when they visited the cottage. You might ask yourself why it meant so much to
me. When I was 9 years old, my older brother became ill. His illness resulted in him becoming a paraplegic. At the time, my father was also disabled and my mother worked fulltime. There were many times that both my father and my brother were in hospitals at the same time. Needless to say, there was no time for childish things. So my childhood ceased to exist from that point on. When I got married and had a family of my own, I wanted to give the magic of Christmas to my own children. So I go beyond the norm at this time of year. First and foremost, it is the celebration of Jesus’ birth. But beyond that, it is a time of excitement. Whether it’s the bright Christmas lights, the fancy packages under the tree, the smells of pine and fresh baked cookies, or just the smiles on people’s faces, we all
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have something that we especially like at this time of year. People just seem a little kinder at Christmas. I’ve lived in Slidell since 1997. Moving here was one of the best decisions Mike and I ever made. It is truly our home. The community has welcomed us with open arms. So I wanted to give something back and this is one of the ways I could do it. I wanted Santa’s Workshop to represent the magic of the past. There would be no expensive electronics or plastic toys. It is unfortunate that most kids today will not get to experience the simpler things that we enjoyed, or our parents enjoyed, as kids. The electronic world is stealing from our children what it is like to play outside and have actual conversations with other children. Texting is not the same.
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My mission began! The first step was to create a warm and cozy environment. I tried to imagine, through a child’s eyes, what would be happening inside Santa’s Workshop. What would they see? After painting all the walls and floor, I placed a warm rug on the floor. The North Pole is really cold, so I made glowing fire logs for the fireplace. A Christmas tree was a must but I wanted an old-fashioned tree, covered in candy canes and other sweet treats that I made from ceramics, as well as apples and popcorn. The final touch for the tree would be candles. I then put a jolly Santa, busy checking his list. Look for the names on that list there have been some very good boys and girls in Slidell! Next, I refurbished all of Santa’s elves, which had been pretty much destroyed during Katrina. Each elf is making toys that we loved as kids: wooden spin tops, marbles, YoYos, army men, dominos, jump ropes and much more. If you want a good chuckle, search for vintage toys on eBay. While searching for toys from my youth, I was literally in tears laughing at what was available for us back in the day. Such things as irons with real plugs, vacuums, mops, and sewing machines with real needles! I’m not sure if we were playing with this stuff or being trained to work! But there were many other things that I found to fill the workshop with that just warmed my heart. These are items that will create conversation between our older people and our kids, as we explain to them what some of the toys are. For example, there is an old Roy Rogers and Dale Evans guitar, a Shirley Temple doll and an Annie doll. I even donated some of my old toys, like Raggedy Ann and some of my baby toys that had been stored in a box for way too many years. It reminds me of the movie Toy Story. The toys weren’t doing any good in a box. Now, they can be enjoyed by everyone, every year. Of course, there are toys that our kids will know. I had to include the princesses from the movie Frozen, as well as Winnie the Pooh and Tigger too. There is even a little fish tank with Dory and Nemo. Then I moved on to Mrs. Clause. I imagined her to be a grandmotherly figure, busy in the kitchen making ginger bread and chocolate chip cookies. I bought a toy wooden stove and, with some adjustments from Mike, I painted it and filled it with cookies. There are maps of the world on the walls to help Santa plot his course, and postcards of children from his travels. Even Rudolph is there snuggled by the fire. On the mantel, the Nativity reminds us of the reason for celebration. I believe it will be a wonderful experience for young and old alike. I hope you take the time to go see it with someone you love.
As I was finishing up Santa’s Workshop, I spoke to Alex about possibly doing a Cajun Christmas for next year. Alex asked if I would like to do it now and, of course, I said YES! I couldn’t wait to get started. Cottage number two is like a camp on the bayou. I painted a mural on the back wall as if you were looking out of a window at the bayou, complete with alligators and a pirogue. Under the window, there is a Cajun Santa and Mrs. Clause sitting at a large table complete with a pile of crawfish, crabs, shrimp, corn on the cob, garlic and hot sauce, of course. They also have some Barq’s root beer; and instead of cookies, Cajun Santa prefers beignets. Mrs. Clause is reading The Cajun Night Before Christmas to some Louisiana wildlife, such as baby black bears, a raccoon and some frogs from the movie The Princess Frog. There’s even an opossum on the window sill listening. And finally, a Cajun Christmas needs a Cajun tree made of crab nets. Kim Bergeron, the former Director of Cultural Arts, had started this a couple of years ago and I just added a little bit more. Once I had finished with the Cajun cottage, there was still one building left, along with several props that I thought I could salvage. I made a trip to the Habitat ReStore for some furniture. (During this project, I made many trips to Habitat’s ReStore. It is a great resource when you are on a tight budget.) The feeling I hope you get when you look in this third cottage is that of a great Christmas party taking place, with musicians and children included. You will even see a Santa dressed as a Fireman and a Santa dressed as a Policeman. I am hoping to do more work on this cottage next year. I would love to paint a mural on the walls to give it that finishing touch.
I got so much joy out of creating the magic of these cottages. I hope you feel the love that went into them when you visit “Christmas Under the Stars.” Once you’ve visited “Christmas Under the Stars” in Griffith Park, take a ride to Magnolia Forest to see the Life-Sized Nativity that I made and have on display each year. It spans 1 ½ acres at my home and we love to share it with the community. Just head into Magnolia Forest and signs will lead the way. I have one quick recipe this month that was a big hit at a party that I recently hosted.
Heath Bar Apple Dip 1- 8oz. package of cream cheese 1/2 cup brown sugar 1/3 cup white sugar 1 tsp. vanilla 1 bag Heath Bar toffee bits Granny Smith apple slices Simply blend everything together and refrigerate for a couple of hours. It yields 1½ cups. If you are having a party, I suggest you double the recipe.
Merry Christmas You can enjoy more of Lori’s art on facebook: www.facebook.com/LoriGomezArt or by visiting: www.LoriGomezArt.com
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We Think He Was Abused... Me: “Hey, I see you’re here with a new puppy!” Puppy lays back its ears, emits a menacing growl while looking nervously around and tries to hide under its owner’s sweater. Client: “Ooh, honey, it’s all right, Doc won’t hurt you. It’s OK! GOOD DOG!” Then to me, in a whisper of confidentiality: “We think he was abused.” I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen this basic scenario play out in my exam room. I always wonder, though, what sort of abuse is likely to have had been inflicted upon that eight-week-old puppy? I suspect it’s much more likely that youthful behavior was unwittingly being reinforced and encouraged at an early age. From the beginning of my career, I’ve suspected that there were almost always more likely explanations than “previously abused.” Puppies have a window of time early in their lives (the first three months, up to 12 weeks of age) where they become socialized. Puppies that don’t experience a wide range of positive interactions with people, other animals, and novel situations during this age range may grow up to be more fearful and less outgoing than puppies who do. The trick is to expose her to as wide a variety of people and experiences as possible, while simultaneously avoiding scary situations. It’s a fine line to walk sometimes, particularly if your new pet is shy instead of outgoing.
Some dogs (especially small, feet-never-touchthe-ground types) seem to get worse over time. The owners of these dogs often feel that the dog’s behavior is how they themselves would act if they’d previously been beaten, so that MUST be what happened to the dog. In almost all cases, though, the presumed physical abuse was never witnessed, just assumed. The owners unintentionally reward the frightened behavior by praising and coddling the dog when it occurs, instead of taking steps to modify it. Abuse is often blamed for the behavior of dogs who are found wandering or lost and are then adopted into new homes. These poor frightened animals may have been abandoned, neglected, chased, or simply starved, so of course they’re afraid and on edge. However, when cared for properly in a patient, quiet environment, many such dogs can come around to be happy pets with no sign of that initial anxiety, if they had positive socialization experiences early on. On the other hand, if they weren’t well-socialized when young, things can be more difficult.
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Certainly, there are pets who actually do suffer from abuse. We hear about those on the news every now and again. I would submit, though, that there are far more who suffer from poor socialization, inadequate care, poor nutrition and outright neglect than physical abuse; most of those who “act like they were abused” are just timid, and never learned how to interact with people in the way we prefer when they were young and impressionable. After all, left to their own devices, dogs will act like dogs. We have imposed expectations on them to behave in certain ways so they can share our homes, and we must remember that they aren’t born magically knowing how to deal with us. So what can you do? First and foremost, if you have a new puppy, make life a wide variety of joyous experiences with people, other pets, and objects. Trash cans, dishwashers, vacuum cleaners, rocks and grass are all scary on first exposure. Try to introduce your new puppy to the world in a way that keeps the happy factor greater than the fear factor; this sometimes requires a little finesse. The American Veterinary Society of Animal Behavior provides an excellent position statement on puppy socialization. It’s available at their web site: avsabonline.org Handling of a youngster is important. People of different ages, genders, and sizes should interact with the pet, always in a positive fashion, never forced and intimidating. It’s also important that the pet should not just be held: you need to touch feet, mouths, ears and tails. When I was a kid, our Pekingese “Bridget” had to be
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anesthetized to remove part of a stick from between the teeth in the roof of her mouth. She was going to eat my parents alive rather than allow them to reach in and pluck that thing out. If she had been taught to have her mouth opened and examined regularly at home as a puppy, it likely would have taken them only a moment of non-drama instead of a veterinary visit and a course of anesthesia.
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Eventually, these new pets are going to experience veterinary examinations. Take them to the vet for a happy visit. Get treats and hugs, play with the staff, get more treats and more hugs, then leave. Associating the clinic with positive experiences during that early socialization period might help make future visits much easier down the road.
What can you do if you have one of these pets? You get appropriate help. A book released in January 2014 by the American College of Veterinary Behaviorists, “Decoding Your Dog,” is an excellent resource for insight into a dog’s mind and behaviors. It’s available on their website, dacvb.org. For dogs with difficult problems, ask your veterinarian for a referral to a reputable, certified trainer. Board-Certified Veterinary Behaviorists are also available, but to my knowledge there are none in our area. If you choose to work with a trainer, be cautious, because there are no specific requirements or licensing for dog trainers. Anyone can call himself a trainer whether he knows what he’s doing or not. Sadly, there are trainers out there who use techniques based on dominance and other inappropriate theories that will make a nervous dog worse instead of better. The most popular dog trainer in America today (I won’t mention his name, but his initials are CM and he can be seen on the National Geographic Channel) has been known on several occasions to use such techniques. That’s a subject for another column.
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If you find that you’ve adopted an adult dog who seems more like he’s constantly worried than that happy-go-lucky fellow you’d hoped for, resist the urge to believe that the dog has been physically abused, and to excuse his actions based on that belief; the vast majority of the time, it isn’t the case. Dog behavior and human behavior are different, and we’d do well to remember that a dog’s perceptions and reactions are different from our own. With puppies or adult dogs, don’t inadvertently praise bad behavior. This brings us back to that scene in my exam room. The puppy’s owner, with best intentions, is trying to soothe and calm the pet, thinking this will change the behavior. What’s actually happening, though, is that the unwanted behavior is being reinforced. The puppy doesn’t hear “Calm down and be a good dog.” Instead, he hears “You’re BEING such a good dog,” while he’s growling and trying to dominate the situation. He’s being rewarded with positive attention; not the message we want to send. Not all veterinarians are behavior experts. I’m always happy to admit my limitations, and make referrals when the needs of a pet owner, in this case for behavioral issues, exceed what I can offer. Ask your vet for his advice, or for his best recommendation for someone who can get you the help you need. But PLEASE don’t pet and praise your puppy WHILE he’s trying to bite me. That will make a veterinarian cranky for sure!
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If you adopt an older animal, you may have a harder row to hoe. First and foremost, understand that if your new pet was inadequately socialized while young, you may never have the bubbly, outgoing personality that you had hoped for. You’ll need to make a special effort to train behavior as well as you can (poorly socialized pets CAN be trained), but be prepared to accept that this pet may always be scared of people, certain objects, noises, situations, and so on.
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By Leslie Gates
THE CHRISTMAS LIST I AM WARNING YOU NOW… This may be VERY disturbing to most readers. You WILL be seen as a crazy person if you continue reading this.
OK, now that we have reached the end of 2014, I would like to take a stroll down memory lane and share with you some of the wisdom I’ve gained this year. Look at it as my Christmas present to you. Because when I suffer, you learn.
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STILL??!!
Here we go…
REALLY??!!
1. When your child loses a tooth, and you forget to put money under the pillow, don’t feel bad. You’re not alone. Just do this: act surprised. Then, when they aren’t looking, grab a five dollar bill and slip it under their sheets. Call them
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in the room while you are searching the bed and say, “Oh look! There it is!” Why the tooth fairy didn’t take the tooth is beyond your understanding. She does that sometimes. Right? Right. 2. If you are trying to quit smoking and your kid walks outside during a weak moment, quickly hand it to your friend. If they are a good enough friend, they will let you throw them under the bus. “Mom, why does Miss Meagan always smoke two cigarettes?” “Well baby, because she has a problem.”
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3. When a pet dies, JUST TELL THEM THE TRUTH. (The truth is OK in this situation.) Because if you try to spare hurting them by making up a story about the dog going to a farm up north, they will want to go see the dog. Which, of course, they can’t. Then, they will want to know WHY they can’t. The lie will only get deeper and deeper and before you know it, YOU won’t even remember the story. And in rare situations, the neighbor kid will have already told them anyway, causing the whole joke to be on YOU. 4. NEVER, I repeat, NEVER, agree to babysit the class pet for the weekend. Especially if it’s the world’s smallest hamster, and you are PMSing. At some point your child will find something more interesting to do while holding the hamster, giving the 3 inch little ball of fur full reign of the house. Do they like to sit out in an open area so you can find them easily? Nope. Do you own way too many pieces of furniture? Yep. You WILL be forced to look under all the beds and dressers to save your child’s reputation. It’s not pretty, people. You may discover some things about yourself you never wanted to see. Like, I don’t know, hoarding tendencies? Hypothetically speaking, of course. You will also feel the need to smoke another cigarette. 5. When moving a large piece of furniture through the front door of your house, by yourself, during Halloween, FIRST remove the sound activated ginormous moving spider from above your head. As you repeatedly try and maneuver the huge item into the doorway at just the right angle, constantly slamming it into the door frame, the spider will hear this, causing it to make a God-awful screeching sound as it slowly creeps downward, attacking your head. Over and over AND OVER again! It’s all fun and games until you start punching and cursing at the air with one hand while still trying to maintain control of the large, cumbersome piece of furniture with the other. And, typically, this will only happen as two neighbors are walking by. 6. When ordering items from a kid’s fundraiser, don’t forget to write your name down by the item you ordered. I know, I know, life gets crazy at times and we forget the simplest little details, but sometimes those little details can make life more hectic than it needs to be. I spent three weeks trying to deliver two frozen pizzas to a lady in my neighborhood whom I was pretty sure had ordered them. Whenever I knew I would be driving past her house, I’d get the pizzas out of the freezer, drive over there, stop in the street, walk down the long walkway to her door, knock on the door, wait, BANG on the door, wait, curse, get BACK in my truck, drive BACK to my house, put the pizzas BACK in the freezer, get BACK in my truck again, and drive to wherever I was going in the first place. I even tried knocking on her door at different times of the day and night, thinking she worked weird hours. I was REALLY starting to dislike this person I didn’t even know. I can’t tell you how many times in those three weeks that I needed something for dinner and had to fight the little demon on my shoulder telling me to, (cue little demon voice)… “Juuuust cook the pizzas, Leslie”. My friend Tonya says, “Uhhhh… why
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don’t you just put a note on her door with your phone number, and she can call you when she’s in?” Ahhhhhhh… yeeeeeees! After taking her advice, the lady called me the next day. She had been out of town. Of course! We set up a time that day to deliver the pizzas, along with her two bags of popcorn. She turned out to be super cool AND I had FINALLY rid my home of the evil Italian entrees! Thirty minutes later, she texts me. Long story short… They weren’t her pizzas. They were mine. 7. Don’t be in denial about putting on a little weight. But don’t beat yourself up over it either. Simple solution: Use a pony tail holder and loop it through the button hole of your pants, hooking the other end to the button. Although, I finally just broke down and bought a pair of those off-brand “Spanx” so I could button my pants. I mean, I can’t breathe; but at least I have a tight ass now. I also got rid of the old bra and went up a cup size. I now have two boobs instead of four. It’s great! 8. In a pinch, you can use a whitening mouthwash to clean your toilet. Why would you do this? Because you bought it, it’s nasty, and you don’t want to waste it. Now you don’t have to. It whitens the bowl right up! And of course, who doesn’t want a minty fresh toilet? 9. If digging up the old home videos seems like a great idea for some good family bonding time, it’s not. Not only will you run around town trying to find a VCR player to purchase, you will also be reminded of the times when you had your s**t together as a parent. And the more kids you have, the less you record, naturally, leaving your youngest child with a complex. You can’t say I didn’t warn you. 10. If you get your eyebrows waxed and they take off 3/4th of one brow, basically, you’re screwed. But talking to people while turning the bad eyebrow side of your face away, will only make you look like more of a freak. So don’t do this. 11. Also, attempting to cut layers into your own hair if you are not a professional, is not wise. BUT, if you are going to do it anyway, make sure your eyebrow has grown back first. If you don’t, you will be forced to smoke many more cigarettes while you hide out in your home for a week.
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Lastly, I’d like to sum this list up in one simple paragraph: Everything that happens is a lesson learned, and every lesson has some type of moral. The moral of this story as a whole… We are all human. Most of you probably don’t share it with the world like I do, but there is only one life to live, and if you can’t make someone laugh along the way, then what’s the point? And if you can’t laugh at yourself, then life will probably kill you before the cigarettes do. Now, give YOURSELF a Christmas gift this year: Go out there and be the best person you can be, let go of the regrets, and make a fresh start in 2015 from whatever wisdom YOU have gained. I know I will.
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Go Beyond By Rose Marie Sand
The Next Adventure Shelly placed an ornament on a tree only Charlie Brown would appreciate. Pine needles tinkled to the beige linoleum floor as she looped the red ribbon attached to a photo onto a skinny branch.
The moody lampposts of the streets of the French Quarter were decked in red and green. Shelly inched slowly down Decatur, dodging partiers who strolled from bar to bar.
A beaming fisherman looped his arms around two proud little girls, each clutching bent fishing poles dangling plump catfish.
You have reached your destination, on left.
“Daddy, Katie and me, 1999” was scrawled on the back of the photo. Shelly traced the outlines of their faces, thinking out loud, “I miss you, Dad.” The ornament looked as lonely as Shelly felt. As hard as she tried, the apartment didn’t feel like home. Nowhere did. She picked up her keys, punched in the alarm code to her apartment, and strode the few steps to her car.
“No way, Pauline,” Shelly said, half expecting the voice to reply sarcastically, “Way.” Shelly personified her GPS with the name of her favorite aunt, and held conversations with Pauline often. She found a parking spot between two bars with competing loudspeaker systems and checked her purse for her trusty pepper spray.
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The delicate wrought iron legs of a chair outside of Envie Lounge were no match for a Rudolph-wannabe’s massive body; both careened street ward. The resultant puddle of whiskey glistened in the moonlight, and Rudolph stared at it transfixed. “Damn,” he said to no one. “I shoulda finished that inside.” His nose, bloodied in the fall, was bulbous and red, yet his look was brought on by Jim Beam, not Christmas optimism. Shelly watched him pull himself from the ground.
Once outside the red 2010 Camry, she tugged at the gold lame’ miniskirt, adjusting the Party City red wig and green striped way too-tights. A “thunk” brought her eyes to the bar across the street.
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“If that’s Don, I’m so outta here,” she said out loud and walked towards the bar determinedly, armed with her father’s advice to be street-wise and look ‘em in the eye. But Rudolph was totally oblivious to outside forces and barely noticed her. Her father’s voice often rang in her ears these days. She wondered if his spirit would always be with her, no matter where she traveled. “Life’s all one big adventure, kiddo,” he always said. “There are no real endings, just the beginning of the next story. And it always gets better.” Another creature exited the bar, causing Shelly to stop in her tracks in the middle of Decatur Street.
Inside, happy drunks proudly sported tacky Christmas sweaters like a badge of honor. There was a generous assortment of sexy Mrs. Clauses; elves with pointy hats and green tee shirts dotted the landscape. A couple wrapped white tee shirts with red duct tape for a creative candy cane look. A sign-in sheet at the entrance had been pretty much ignored in the rush for free Jell-O shots at the bar. Shelly followed suit, gratefully choosing both an orange and a red shot. She scanned the crowd for the elusive Don. A tall man in flowing robes and a long, grey fake beard approached Shelly. A corded koozie emblazoned with “How You Gonna Clap?” cradled a Bud Lite that sloshed as he approached.
This one sported dirty green tulle wrapped carelessly around a stick-shaped body, with broken ornaments scattered for effect.
“Come here often?” he said.
Permanent reminders of temporary feelings mapped the landscape of her skin. With wrinkles as complex as a road map of India, tattoos of incomprehensible meanings and indecently unkempt neon green hair, the sad Christmas Tree personified every whim and memory of her fifty-plus trips around the sun.
“I like your costume, baby,” the shepherd growled. “Want some frankincense or mirth?”
“I guess Meetup members are not what the Internet says they are,” Shelly mused, turning swiftly back towards her car. Once safely inside, she pulled out her iPhone to check yesterday’s message from the event’s coordinator, Don. He’d sent a flyer about the fourth annual Christmas Party of the GNO Singles Meetup Club, with instructions to wear your tackiest Christmas clothes; a prize would be awarded to the ugliest sweater, sexiest outfit, and most creative costume. She didn’t own a sweater and decided against the red velvet corset she found online, even though Don’s picture showed he was definitely her type. The blurry iPhone profile picture showed a strawberry blonde god with broad shoulders and a crooked smile - cute enough to brave these New Orleans bar flies. “Okie-doke, Pauline, this move to New Orleans was all about my decision to go beyond the comforts of Slidell. Dad said to keep my eyes open and if I don’t come back in two hours, call the cavalry.” She entered the door of the dingy bar, and was bombarded with smoke, chatter, and Alvin and the Chipmunks’ squeaky Christmas Don’t Be Late.
Shelly laughed. “Good one. No, I’m new to Meetup.”
“That’s myrrh, Balthazar, and this is a far cry from Bethlehem.” He leaned in so close she could see gooey green Jello-O in his mustache. Shelly made a run for the Ladies Room and smacked into a wall of a muscled chest. Staring at broad shoulders, Shelly took in the writing on his tee shirt, “DON WE NOW OUR GAY APPAREL,” and looked up to see eyes the color of mistletoe. “Are you okay, Shelly?” the blurry blond head asked.
“Yeah, I wasn’t sure where to go, but Pauline gave me good directions,” Shelly said. “Pauline, I don’t know her. Is she in Meetup, too?” “Oh, no, she’s…she’s a friend from Slidell.” “Slidell! Some great restaurants there. The lasagna at Sal and Judy’s is amazing,” Don said. “That’s in Lacombe, not too far off,” she said. “And yes, the lasagna is to die for. Um, are you a red-headed Italian?” Shelly blurted. “Not exactly, just a fan of Italian food. I was raised on Rocky & Carlo’s red gravy,” Don said. “Now even a girl from the North Shore knows where that is,” she said. “So, you’re from Chalmette?” “No,” Don laughed. “That’s uptown St. Bernard. I’m from Ycloskey – just a small town boy. Look, you seem a little shook, can I get you a San-tini?” he asked. “Ycloskey? San-tini? Am I still in Louisiana?” Shelly smiled. “Ycloskey’s about 25 miles from Chalmette, and a San-tini is the organizer’s brilliant idea for tonight’s specialty drink,” Don said. “Yes, it was brilliant, little brother. Vodka, absinthe and Cream de Menthe, what’s not to like?” An impossibly beautiful strawberry blonde draped an arm across Don’s shoulder, and stared Shelly down. “Who are you?”
Her eyes teared from the pain of the impact, or was it the fear that this guy would turn out not only to be Don, but gay as well, as his shirt probably advertised?
“You’ll have to excuse my sister. She’s full of the Christmas spirit.”
“Do I know you?” she said.
“Gay,” the blonde said. “My name’s Gay. But I’m not.”
“Not officially. I’m Don. From Meetup,” he said. “I thought I recognized you from your profile picture.” “Oh. Oh, my,” Shelly muttered.
“Hi, I’m Shelly,” she began. “And you’re?”
“My sister doesn’t always make the most holistic decisions,” Don said. “Like these tee shirts.”
“I’ve been watching the door for you. So glad you found us.”
“Hey, my little protest against Hallmark’s “Don We Now Our Fun Apparel” foolishness last Christmas,” Gay replied. “And it’s got both our names on it, we are so gonna win the creativity contest. What the hell are you dressed as, Shelly? The discount bin at Party City?”
Something about the look in his eyes made her heart jump. Her gay-dar wasn’t picking up the usual signals and his handshake was warm. Either way, she was glad she’d come.
Shelly shrunk slightly, and Gay’s laugh rang through the air. She draped her free arm around Shelly, “I don’t mean nothing, honey, I think you look all sparkly and cute as a button.”
“Really, are you okay?” Don repeated. “I’m fine. Hi, Don.” She extended her hand. “Shelly.”
39
Don disengaged himself from Gay’s hold. “How about I get you a coffee and Shelly a drink? Wait right here,” Don said. Shelly and Gay watched Don lean over the bar and order, then appraised one another openly. Shelly slowly realized that Don and Gay not only wore identical tee shirts, they had the same green eyes and engaging smiles. “So, you’re the organizer of the Meetup Group?” Shelly said. “Yep. You new here?” Gay asked. “I just moved from Slidell, after my father… um, I haven’t lived here long.” Shelly tentatively replied, just as she smelled a familiar aroma of Bud Light. “Come here often?” said the creepy shepherd, slipping an arm around Gay’s waist. “Buzz off, Larry,” Gay said. “Come on, Gay. Least you can do is dance with me, for old time’s sake.” He lunged to the dance floor with a protesting Gay. Shelly heard the melee behind her as she reached the door. The Camry was in drive before the first tear fell. Instead of the two-mile trek to her tiny apartment in the Marigny, Shelly sped onto I-10, and speed dialed her sister.
“Hello, that you Shel?” Katie responded to Shelly’s call in one ring.
She instinctively checked her iPhone for messages. There was one email, from Don.
“Can I crash at your house tonight?”
“Shelly, I’m worried about you. Please call me at 504-301-1240. You looked like a dear in the headlights tonight, but I promise, it gets better. Can I show you a brighter side of the city? There’s some great Italian restaurants in New Orleans, too. Please call me when you get home.”
“Anytime, sis. What’s wrong?” “I just want to be home,” Shelly said. “But I don’t know where that is anymore.” “Oh, honey. You okay to drive?” Katie said. “Yeah, just talk me across the twin spans,” Shelly said. “What’s going on? I hear music.” “We’re at Speckly Jo’s. Stop by for a drink?” Katie said. “No, I’ll just use my key to your place. I’m not in the mood for a bar.” She gave her sister an abbreviated version of the Meetup, then said, “Look, I’m going to stop for gas. I’ll call you when I get close.” Shelly pulled off at the Oak Harbor exit and plucked off the silly wig before she stepped to the gas pump. Seconds later, she turned the ignition switch and the radio blared Journey’s Small Town Girl. “Just a small town girl, living in a lonely world,” she sang along. “Oh please,” Pauline, or Shelly’s own voice, said.
The Camry started with a reliable purr, and Shelly pulled onto the interstate onramp. “It’s all one big adventure, kiddo.” Green signs pointed in two directions New Orleans on her left and Old Spanish Trail to her right. There wasn’t another car in sight, and she hadn’t programmed Pauline with a destination. Shelly caught her breathe. Who said that? She looked up to the rear view mirror, and saw her father’s eyes reflected in her own, and his smile spread across her lips. It didn’t matter which direction she turned. Home was in her heart, along with memories of a loving past and promises of a bright future. She clicked the left turn signal, and looked forward to the next story.
41
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C hristmas in Olde Towne 1960’s
Prelude: The Dunaway family Christmas during the 1960's forever reminds me of the Griswald's family Christmas of the 1980's. We loved Christmas and we celebrated it in every fashion possible. Our house was always buzzing with excitement as we waited for the arrival of Santa. Like the Griswalds, we were comical and sometimes a bit dysfunctional, but it was a memorable time that I will cherish forever.
Like I’ve said many times before, life in the 60's was less stressful and the Christmas holidays were no different. (Except for that one awful night, and I’ll get to that shortly.) Even as
a kid, I felt there was a lot more to Christmas than what Santa or your parents gave you. The best part of Christmas at our house was preparing for Santa's visit. We started preparing the day after Thanksgiving. Some of my favorite times were decorating the tree and going shopping with my siblings Sandi, Patty and Tommy. Our favorite places were the stores we all remember from our youth in Slidell: TG&Y, Gibson's, and Tammany Mall. My fondest memory of Christmas shopping was picking out Mom’s and Dad’s gifts. Dad was easy, he liked short sleeve polo shirts with a pocket for his cigarettes. To this day, I still have the cookie jar I gave my mom when I was eight years old.
According to our family tradition, Sandi and I were always in charge of choosing the perfect Christmas tree. Unlike the Griswald's, we did not go to the forest and pull one out of the ground. Instead, we got our tree from the Kiwanis Club. They had a tree lot down Gause that was every bit as big as a forest. I think everyone in Slidell got their tree from them. In order to
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find that one special tree, Sandi made me stand up every tree in the lot to make sure it was full and even on all sides. I didn't mind because nothing smells better that a Christmas tree. One year, we were having a tough time finding THE tree. We looked and looked and looked. Then something magical happened - a bright light from Heaven (a light pole) shined on that perfect tree. The problem was that it was over 12 feet tall and $40 over our budget. We wanted that tree. We needed that tree. That tree had our name on it. Another problem was that the last words out of Mom’s mouth were, “Do NOT come home with a big tree.” The Christmas Room, as we liked to call it, had 12 foot ceilings. So, I made an executive decision - that tree was coming home with us. Clark Griswold had nothing on us. The people at the tree lot tied it up into a tight little bundle, but it still hung several feet out of the back of the truck. The closer we got to home, the bigger the tree looked, and the more I dreaded explaining it to my mom. As fate would have it, Mom and Dad were sitting on the front porch when we drove up with a tree not much smaller than the one at Rockefeller Plaza. From the expression on my mom’s face, I knew things were about to get messy. She stood up out of that rocker as if she had seen a ghost. I didn’t even have the truck door open when she said, “That tree will never fit in the house,” and told me to get back in the truck and return it. I asked her not to worry, that I had everything under control. I knew my mom like the back of my hand. She got mad fast and, thank God, she got happy just as fast. I knew how to calm her down, because I knew how to make those sad puppy eyes. Once Sandi and I got the tree in the house, I realized that it was two feet taller than the ceiling. I cut two feet off and put it on a traditional tree stand and stood it up. Now it was about to get real funny. It was time to cut the rope and let it unfold. Just like in the movie “Christmas Vacation”, the tree exploded to several feet wide, knocking over one of Mom’s antique lamps. For my sake,
only the bulb broke. The tree now took up half the room, and literally wobbled in that tree stand like a drunken whino. It was way too big for that little tree stand and way too big for the room; but I was determined to make it work, so I wouldn't have to hear mom say, “I told you so.” So, I screwed the stand to the floor, then covered it up with a tree skirt. No more wobbles. No more worries. Now that the tree was in place, it was time to decorate it. Since the tree was so big, we needed to make a run to Gibson's for more decorations. We bought a lot of lights and several boxes of glass ornaments. We also bought about 12 boxes of icicles. We even had a whole bunch of lights from previous years, which we were going to need. We painstakingly hung the lights and hundreds (or so it seemed) of glass ornaments and all those icicles. Of course, Sandi made sure each ornament was perfectly distributed around the tree, which nearly drove me crazy. I must say, when we finished, the tree was beautiful. Even mom said it was pretty. She did asked me how I got it to stand up so straight. I wasn't about to tell her I drilled a few holes in the floor. I saved that discussion for the day I took the tree down. After all that hard work, it was around 3 a.m. when tragedy struck. There was a loud noise that sounded like a car crashed into the house. Everyone jumped out of the bed and ran to the front room. When I walked into the Christmas Room, I thought I was going to die. When Mom walked in, I KNEW I was going to die. Yep, that Rockefeller tree was on its side. Bad enough that the floor was covered with broken glass from the ornaments, but the tree also took out a coffee table, that treasured antique lamp, several family pictures from the wall, and literally ripped the curtains from the windows. (They were ugly anyway and needed to come down.) It also left four screw holes in the floor. Needless to say, our Christmas spirit just had a major setback. If all that wasn't enough, my dad came running in half asleep and stepped on broken glass with both feet. He called that poor tree everything but a Christmas tree.
This was not the first time I feared for my life living in that house, but it was by far the worst. My mom was fit to be tied. She was furious. She told me when I got up in the morning, I could expect to find the tree in the yard. This was one of those times when you just kept your mouth shut. So, I quietly went back to bed. As I laid in bed, trying to figure how I was going to keep that tree upright, I could hear my dad moaning and groaning as Mom pulled the glass out of his feet. Finally, they went to sleep, so I got up to clean the mess up. I screwed the tree back down again, with extra screws. I now had eight holes to hide. There was no doudbt that half the ornaments were broken. After sweeping up the glass, I could tell some of it got in the cracks between the boards. I needed to vacuum the room. Just as I was starting to feel better about all of this, tragedy struck again. When I turned on the vacuum cleaner, half the house went dark, including my parent’s room. At that point, I just gave up and went back to bed. I, too, was ready to drag that tree outside and burn it - ornaments, lights, icicles, stand and all. It was nearly daybreak when I heard my parents awake. I quickly got up and told them what happened. To my surprise, they didn't get upset. I couldn't help but notice both of Dad’s feet were wrapped in gauze. For what ever reason, I just started laughing at him. I think I was having a break down at 8 years old. We went to the Christmas Room to investigate what happened. It didn't take long before he gave me a lesson in electricity. It seems that you can't piggyback 20 strings of lights into one socket. He said I was lucky I didn't burn the house down. I said to myself - the way things are going, there was a good possibility it could happen yet.
Christmas in Slidell during the 1960's was also more about tradition than anything else. Every year, the city sponsored a contest for the best decorated house. Night after night, Mom would take us around town to look at the decorations. I remember Mrs. Ciko's house in Possum Hollow as being one of the prettiest. 43
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The city also hung strings of lights across the streets, which really helped put you in the Christmas mood. Even the lights came with a special tradition. Each string of lights had to be manually turned on by screwing a fuse into a pole socket. The city had volunteers for each block. Yes, I was the volunteer for my block. Every night at dusk, I grabbed a ladder and turned on the lights. I loved it. Even back in those days, the city did a great job decorating. We also used to sit around the TV and watch Christmas specials such as The Carpenters, Andy Williams, The Osmonds, Bob Hope overseas military specials, Miracle on 34th Street, It's a Wonderful Life, and my all time favorites, Charlie Brown Christmas and Mr. Bingle. Everyone loved Mr. Bingle. Even our toys were so much better than today. Over the years, Santa brought us toys such as Tiny Tears dolls, Tiny Thumbelina, pogo sticks, metal skates, walkie talkies, banana seat bikes, and that famous Polaroid camera.
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Many difficult years would follow those wonderful years. Hurricane Katrina took away every physical reminder of Christmas that I had. Mom and Dad are gone now, and we’re all grown and started our own traditions. Good old Santa has visited my house over 50 times since I was that kid. I'm quite sure - in fact, I have no doubt - that I’ve never had a happier Christmas than I did in the 1960's. As far as those 8 holes in the floor, they are still there and always will be. It's my yearly reminder that, when it comes time to buy a Christmas tree, the “perfect tree” is a pre-lit, pre-decorated, three footer in a box.
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Looking back, I realize we kept Christ in Christmas in ways that will forever be with me. We often went to First Baptist Church's Christmas specials and participated in neighborhood Christmas caroling. My favorite song was, "Christmas is coming, the geese are getting fat, won't you please put a penny in the old man’s hat if...” (you finish the rest.) We also visited and participated in the live Nativity that was located on the triangle. As a child, this was one of the most incredible displays of the real meaning of Christmas that I ever experienced.
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Slidell M
The journey to a signature...
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Habitat for Humanity CEO, Debbie Crouch, Artist Lori Gomez, PR Phenom, Kim Bergeron, Habitat ReStore Manager Eric Jones, & Slidell Mag Editor Kendra Maness embark on a journey to Louisville to obtain the coveted signature of Sir Paul McCartney on the Beatles-themed piano to benefit Habitat P
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SUCCESS! The Habitat piano now has the signatures of Ringo Starr & Sir Paul McCartney. Lori listens with prid e as the beautifully restored piano is play ed by the amazing Ronnie Kole
ight! great n U What a stle FC F irst Ca f o te at a a r r e b iv ss cele e Dawn R n a M ra n or Kend t Auctio and Edit itat Ar b a H e h t
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“Through the Years... A Stroll Through Historic Olde Towne & Fashions of the Day” Modeled by Slidell’s finest!
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