Bad sisters.. wickedly good

Got Apple TV?

Then I gotta recommendation that'll shake you to your very core.

OK..that was bad..

But you know what's not bad?  

You know what's MORE than "not bad?"

You know what's  so "not bad" that it's wicked good??

"Bad Sisters" is the best thing we've streamed this season.

It has more twists than ten loaves of freshly baked challah bread and I guarantee you, no awful puns like that.

It is sharp, sexy, dark, hilarious, and totally unpredictable.  We'd have a post-mortem for an hour after we watched each episode, never once correctly  guessing what was about to implode.

It's a little "Big Little Lies" and a little "White Lotus" and it's absolutely delicious, from the opening credits with the haunting theme song that you'll be humming through eternity, to the stellar casting.

Sharon Horgan is a creator, bringing the same magic she brought to "Catastrophe."

Some of you take my recommendations with a grain of salt; others tune in.

Please tune in and visit those wacky Garvey sisters.

Tell 'em Karen sent you!

Vacation-itis

Last week at this time, we were waking up in our immaculate stateroom, reveling from the Elton John concert we were treated to the night before on the upper deck, planning an exciting day around New Orleans, where we'd spend the morning at the luxurious estate, Oak Alley. 

We strolled the magnificent grounds and had our eyes open to the horrific conditions under which  those who built and worked the plantation actually  lived. 

That afternoon, we complained of congestion that I had  through most of the week, and Jim suffered from  few days later, but we blamed it on "Louisiana Allergies" and/or southern pollen, while trying to suppress the urge to constantly  cough.

We joked about it at the time, blaming "probably contagious"  Californians, Box-Cutter and his wife, Bran Muffin, who hacked constantly,  but we just shrugged it off, not letting paranoia and  hypochondria interfere with our afternoon excursion in a Louisiana swamp. where Louie, the baby alligator befriended everyone on board, but thrashed it's tail violently against my arm when it was my turn to pose for a photo op, so aggressively that the captain had to contain him for the rest of the trip.

We boarded the coach bus early the next  morning en route to the beautiful Louis Armstrong Airport in NOLA, and it was tough to blog between coughing spasms, yet I did want to mention that the city is beautiful, and I recognized many sights along St. Charles Avenue and Bourbon Street from our 2004 visit.

At that time, I remember riding through impoverished neighborhoods that  eventually morphed into  beautiful mansions and universities, but there was no private tour guide then  to tell us about the NOLA origins of words like "cocktail" and "Bananas Foster" and "Oysters Rockefeller."

We didn't see "ghost bicycles" in 2004, literal bikes erected in spots where the cyclist who  rode them were killed by careless drivers.  This is a must-do monument in  every major city, I think.

 We did get to  sample the world renowned chicory coffee and powdery beignets at Cafe DuMonde on this trip, but both of us were anxious to leave the polluted Dixie air...only to return to worse problems in NJ.

Turns out it had nothing to do with LouWHEEZYana....we both were diagnosed with bronchial infections and we're on  a course of antibiotics and steroids.  Jim smartly sought medical attention a few days before I did, but it hasn't exactly been a basket full of chocolate eggs for us this morning.

We've both lost the weight we gained on the trip and then some, but there's another silver lining:

Since we both sound like we've been visited by  Typhoid Mary, (my brain almost told me to type that as Thai Food Mary--now THAT sounds like a place I wouldn't want to patronize--or maybe I would)

we have not gone out, which has allowed us to lighten the load on that overfed DVR.

We wanted to go out to a theater  and see the acclaimed movie, "Air", but that would be like seeing "Waterworld" after being lost and dehydrated in the desert for a week.

There's plenty of time for "Air"..it'll play for weeks, and we'll see it at a time when we're not disturbing fellow moviegoers who share our row, but we did get to see some must see TV.

"Ted Lasso" is going to new places this season--there's more engaging dramedy and a lot less "aw shucks" moments from Jason Sudeikis.

We're halfway through "Bad Sisters" and if you're looking forward to something addictive to stream, this is it. It's a cross between "Big Little Lies" and "Derry Girls"  and it stars Sharon Horgan, the creator, who brought her magic to one of our favorite series, "Catastrophe."

This is a good one, trust me.

Finally, we are totally eating up the second season of "Schmigadoon!" called "Schmicago"

There are only two episodes available, and they're terrific.  Clever lyrics and an enthusiastic cast.

They explore "darker" musicals..the ones without happy endings--the anti-"Oklahomas!" or other feel good musicals from the forties and  fifties.

Too bad I can't sing. 

 I would have auditioned for Fantine.  This cough makes me sound like I actually have TB..I'd be very authentic 

with my portrayal of the doomed heroine from  "Les Miserables."

(My humor is sicker than I actually am..I'll be fine)

Gator-Rama

Both of us are in agreement:.

Today's excursion  to Cajun Swamp Adventures was the highlight of the trip--and certainly the most fun adventure of them all.

Our guide on the bus promised we were going to  see more alligators then we could count on ten fingers, and I wondered if some of use would even HAVE ten fingers by the end of the trip.

It was bright and sunny today, so the gators wanted to just veg on rocks and drink it all in..you wouldn't?

Our big ole' bear of a guide, Brian, (who I'll call Bubba Bubba for..you know..continuity) was hilarious and fun as heck.

He told us that Louisiana has probably one million gators, and that Florida might have three times that, but nobody knows for certain, 'cause "if they can't count votes in a Florida election, how's they gonna count gators?"

He also explained that swamps are underground forests, while canals and bayous are waterways.

Pay attention.

There will be a quiz.

Bubba Bubba  answered a few more questions and loaded up our pontoon boat, starting  our animated journey through the marsh.where he fed the sunning gators.. MARSHmallows.  

(I kid you not..the gators love 'em..the bobbing white fluffiness makes them a treat to fight for.  I wonder if they're tempted to down them with ...GATORade?)

Okay. 

 I'll stop.

The gators loved the marshmallows and didn't even demand graham crackers or chocolate to go with them, as I would have.

OK.

This time I mean it.

I'll REALLY stop.

We saw exotic birds and snapping turtles and a family of very busy raccoons, plus a group of wild boars who looked like they were getting ready for a bachelor party.

(They scared the crap out of me)

We were told the story of the legendary Julia Brown, who practiced either voodoo or was a misunderstood woman of  alternative medicine.  The town turned on her and she turned on them..or at least, that's how the story goes when a flood came the killed so many people and crops shortly after her death.

Bubba Bubba told us just how scary yellow fever actually was(we've been hearing about this disease all week) and sometimes, it was impossible to tell if the victim was alive or not, so they were buried anyway, and provided with bells to ring in the middle of the night just in case they hadn't turned into corpses yet.

I'm sure the sound attracted wild boars, but I don't want to think about that.

  The story is scary enough on its own.

Bubba Bubba explained the difference between alligators(who are brown or even black) and crocodiles, who are green and "never seen" in these parts of the woods.

As soon as he says this, someone on board spots a lone shoe floating in the muddy swamp.

You guessed it.

It was a Croc.

I'm sure someone planted it there, I just wonder why it hadn't been consumed by now by a raccoon.

Bubba Bubba pulls into a secluded spot, talking about how young gators rarely make it to adulthood, how the predators get them, and then what's he do?

He shocks the stuffing out of all of us...by taking out the six inch gator he had been keeping under wraps this whole time.

We screamed, and then we laughed, and then he decided to pass around the gator for photo ops, with a bottle of hand sanitizer being passed  around shorty after.

I ask what the gator's name was, and Bubba Bubba tells me it's Louis, and then everyone was addressing him by name, cooing and cuddling and sweet talking him like he was a  chick in their grandson's Easter basket.

Louis was sweet and docile and loving it..until he was handed to me.

I cannot explain this.

I was not squeezing the damn lizard or mistreating him in any way whatsoever, but Louis  kept thrashing it's tail wildly.  He was clearly agitated, and Bubba Bubba scooped him up before the last few passengers ,who didn't get to touch him. could get a photo op.

We got our photo  before Louis became so inexplicably crazed.

"He's just stressed" says Bubba Bubba. "I don't know what's eatin' him, but the next group ain't touching him"

He embarrassed me in front of my fellow passengers, I expected him to drop some bodily fluid on me.

(Louis, not Bubba Bubba)

Later, I say to Jim, "Louis knows I'm on to him.  He knows that I know he's not plain old "Louis"..he is  a descendant of Louis Vuitton. And I'm sneaking back to get him tonight and I'm gonna turn him into a pair of shoes..Somebody's going to be very happy this holiday season!"

As  if we weren't  lucking out enough on this trip with it's ideal weather and life changing excursions and immaculate rooms and scrumptious meals so beautifully served, tonight's entertainment is the final one.. a salute to Elton John!

Jim is so happy..he's his favorite singer of all time.

You can bet we'll both be "Crocodile  Rockin'!"

The Benadryl bus tour

I'm pretty sure we'll be hearing Zydeco music in our sleep next week,  while everyone else prepares for Easter or Passover, and we'll probably remember every lyric to "Jambalaya" and every ingredient to good Cajun cooking, (the trifecta of onions, green peppers, and celery--adding tomato makes it Creole, which is different) but what we'll remember most of all is just how fabulous this vacation has been as I blog today, the penultimate entry,  as the trip of a lifetime is nearing its end.

Last night we were enthralled with a duo playing a fiddle and a guitar and a volunteer from the audience on the washboard, and yeah, I had no idea how much I'd love this music., but we did...and I guarantee you will as well.

Welcome to Nawlin's!

We haven't been here since 2004, pre-Katrina, but the city not only survived the disaster, it's better  and livelier than ever.

We're used to this  cruise schedule by now--if you want great excursions, you get up early, and it's easy to do, because you're asleep by ten, because the local talent playing in the lounge ends at 9:30, so all you're potentially missing is playing a game of checkers with your spouse or whatever member of the Grey Mafia is still up in the sky lounge on the fifth deck. .

Today a busload of us with apparent typhoid(EVERONE is congested..not just us--some guides refer to this as "Louisiana Allergies") took a scenic drive to Vacherie, Louisiana, about an hour's drive from where we docked in New Orleans.

Twenty nine cruisers originally booked, but only eight of us were brave enough to board the coach, driven by the hilarious Dana, a driver we were lucky enough to get several times this week,

"My husband told me, for those of you riding with me to "Cajun Pride Swamp Adventures" later today, (which we were) 

that the alligator in front of the building was just a statue, but statues don't do what that one did when somebody threw water on 'em, so that's it..no more listenin' to my husband."

Our guide on the Benadryl Bus Tour was Bubba Nola, a native who knew his stuff and answered all of our questions(between coughing spasms) en route to the breath taking Oak Alley Plantation.

We learned all about the history of the plantation, so rich in history. The landscape tells the story of a plantation over time,  We stepped onto a path to wander the historic site's twenty eight acres(well..not all twenty eight for some of us) and explored the past via exhibits and points of interest.

The gardens were beautiful and perfumed, and we were amazed by the oak trees as large as thirty feet in circumference. 

We saw a short film all about sugar, the plantation's main crop, and after seeing how gruelling and long the process once was, it astounds me that a pound of sugar ever sold for less than one hundred dollars a sack.

Jim wondered who was the first to realize that the secret to sugar is in their stalks..there are no seeds, 

The Oak Trees form an entrance that resembles a canopy, and you feel like you're transported to an antebellum wedding. 

Like the other mansions we've explored on this trip, we saw elegantly set dining room tables  and beautiful four poster beds.

Our guide ,who was a virtual clone of Reese Witherspoon ,told us photos were forbidden, but she was knowledgable and answered all the questions thrown at her.

 The most moving part of this excursion, for us, was exploring the six structures that  once housed slaves. 

We got a real understanding of those who built and sustained the plantation.  Plaques told us their backstories, making them very personal.  We loved  getting to  know them  on a one-to-one basis, and were horrified by their conditions.  The women were given jobs that didn't require back breaking field work,  like their husbands, but they weren't real jobs either since there weren't wages or even passable living conditions.  They were seamstresses or hair dressers and if they weren't able to present themselves as beauties to be coveted by their masters, they were punished.

I can't imagine the inhumanity of it all..cooking in a separate building, over  dangerous open flames. 

And not even reaping the benefits of that hellish labor--just cooking for their owners, who demanded wonderfully prepared food to be served promptly and with a smile.

Ancestors of the Roman family preserve this estate perfectly.  I'll never forget the hand carved wood on the chairs, the crystal chandelier, or the look on the twelve year old boy, as I'm imagining it, who had the unpaid job or raising and lowering a piece of raised fabric while watching the owners dine for hours..he had little to eat, of course, but still had to keep insects away from their fine china and the women in their petticoats..

We were given complimentary mint juleps at the end of the tour, and I was surprised to see something on the outdoor tables I hadn't seen in years--ashtrays!

Bubba Nola was adept at showing us all the points of interest on the ride to and from the estate: 

 Google Laura's Plantation to find out about a benevolent female owner.

We passed a junkyard with a clever name, "Sanford and Son, NOLA"  (which some of you are old enough to get)

Bubba Nola showed us a horrible display of  U.S.army vets living in squalor in tents set up on a strip of land ner where our boat was docked.

 It was disheartening to see this, sadder when someone on the bus  made a revolting assumption by asking  the guide if they were immigrants crossing the border illegally.

He explained a lot of stuff...how sugar is called "white gold" and how the state flower of Louisiana is the poisonous "White Oleander" and how legend has it that the NFL's Saints lost all those Super Bowls because the Superdome is built over the graves of slaves.

I'm beginning to think I love the Magnolia State the most of all the places we've gone..there is so much to see and do.

Time to take a breather and tell you about our afternoon excursion..it'll be lighter, I promise.

The spirited historian

Good morning, Red Stick!

It was nice to wake up in Baton Rouge, the capital of Louisiana, after being entertained by the South's sassiest comic, Judy Davis, in the lounge last night.

Our morning began with an excursion to Port Hudson State Historic Site.

Our guide was named David, and unlike someone who shares his moniker, but  as a surname,(comedian Larry) this David did not have to curb his enthusiasm..he was like a puppy vying for a Tony Award.

He's a professional historian who taught at Louisiana State University(LSU) but now he's a guide with pizzazz--he doesn't just talk, he choreographs his presentation with wild enthusiasm, even at a sacred place like the historic Magnolia Cemetery, our first stop, even 'though there's an actual headstone with his name etched on it..

We stood on grounds where the most intense fighting of the Battle of Baton Rouge took place.  He told us that confederate tombstones were pointed at the top to deter Yanks from sitting on them, while tombstones of Union soldiers were round.

Thanks to my friend Ellen who commented on a photo we posted earlier, who taught me a new word--necrotourists--who are people that enjoy visiting the final resting places of important people.

The cemetery was actually peaceful.  I enjoyed reading the names and dates of the deceased. I even liked looking at the crawfish holes that surrounded the graves, once David explained what they were.  

(Factually, not by belting out a show tunes)

We then took a short drive to Port Hudson, part of the Louisiana States Parks system, where the longest siege in US military history took place.

We learned about John Breckinridge, who was second in the electoral college, losing to Abraham Lincoln, who then became a confederate general, and John Pemberton, who surrendered  to US Grant in Vicksburg.

After a short film, we were handed out a recipe for "Roast Rat"..a favorite of the soldiers. 

 I'll make it when I get home, unless I change my mind and serve ratatouille.

We then were given a demonstration on the firing of cannonballs.  The participants were terrific and very serious about authenticity.

We were told to "prepare for a very loud noise" and I thought, "thanks for the head's up..I'll time it perfectly and release the gas I've been holding in all morning."

Local school children joined our group in what I'm guessing was a field trip, and a cutie in a pink baseball cap etched with the word "yall" couldn't stop holding her ears, even when her classmates advised her to.

She must have been in the stall next to mine earlier that morning.

The tour concluded with a display of artifacts and a cute little gift shop, where Jim bought a pencil sharpener shaped like a cannon so he could get change for tipping the driver and the Broadway Civil War star.

I wish the gift shop sold, among other things, a candle that smelled like the antebellum homes we've seen all week..like lavender and wood and vanilla and my grandmom's house.

You too, probably had a grandmom Sarah with a house that smelled like that.

So comforting.

So good.

So missed.

See you in New Orleans, our final stop before heading home on Monday.

A 3 hour tour..

Prior to booking this trip, the only thing I knew about the Mississippi River is how to find it on a map..at least, the western side, which forms a person. 

 I was always told it was an elfish man, but I want to call her a she, even with her mannish clothing, because I think the name Mrs. Hippy suits her.

In case you think I'm high on crack and you  never heard of this little geography trick, find Minnesota and you'll find her hat, Iowa is her face with a nose pointing east, Missouri, her shirt, Arkansas, her shorts, and Louisiana makes her nice boot. 

Just recently I learned that if you use your imagination, the figure is carrying a long pan, Tennessee, where either cotton candy or a souffle was just baked, and that's Kentucky.

I thought I'd learn a lot more about the river today, and even 'though the weather was ideal and the pontoon ride itself was very pleasant, I could only understand about ten percent of what our captain was saying.

I'll call him Bubba, for continuity, and his last name will be..hmm..how about Bubba Gump Shrimp since he was kind of short..on charisma??

Our tour was the Baton Rouge Harbor town experience, but it was mostly  technical talk about barges. 

Those of us who paid attention to and/or could understand Bubba Gump Shrimp, including about a dozen or so people from the competitive river boat, the "Splendor" who boarded fifteen minutes late and ruined our happy hour, were fascinated by these barges.

Barges basically push things in the water.

We took a three hour tour--a three hour tour--just to  reiterate that..barges push  other things in the water.

I was full on Karen and wanted to get back to our stateroom as soon as possible, but Bubba Gump Shrimp would take the first response he heard--and he admitted to being hard of hearing--which was always "let's stay!" when the option was "we've had enough...let's head back."

We added on at least twenty minutes to the end of the tour, because Bubba Gump Shrimp told us the 1000 foot barge in front of us was going to make a move.

It did not.

Not a discernible one anyway, but that didn't stop the fanatics from taking photos and asking questions.  

Barges move like snails do--would you want to delay Happy Hour to watch a snail move?

Oh, okay, I'll stop, because he did point our some things that weren't ..barges.

Oh!  

Except this one time, when he pointed out a barge called "Nord Santos" (from Panama,) and we both thought he said "George Santos" and we both agreed it wouldn't be beyond reason that this disgraced US congressmen would put seaman on his resume.

The things Bubba Gump Shrimp pointed out that were exciting:

Exxon is a huge employer here, and they make everything from adhesive tape to petroleum.

He also told us about corrupt Governor Huey Long, who, oddly, has the longest(or tallest) memorial buiilding in this state  capital, Baton Rouge.

We also sailed by LSU, (Jim owns a tee-shirt that he forgot to pack) and their enormous Tiger Stadium. 

Bubba Gump Shrimp called it a big party school and the stadium can get really rowdy.

In fact, the noise from the packed stadium actually caused three literal earthquakes.

Once, during a Garth Brooks concert, another, when LSU threw a Hail Mary and beat Kentucky.

I forget the third thing that made the stadium cause an earthquake, but I wouldn't be surprised if it was filled to capacity with Karens like me who didn't want to hear one more effin' word about effin' barges.

Reverse order today..I'll talk about the morning excursion in another blog.