When I was a teenager and living across Lake Pontchartrain from New Orleans, I couldn't wait to get the hell out of that small town and into the big city. I had a strict upbringing and was very much under the thumb of my mother. I used to think she had spies watching my every move. Such is small town Louisiana. In the end, it was too much of a bother to misbehave, so I spent my high school years being a complete and utter dork: my claim to fame being the Louisiana State Champion in Debating, 1983.
I now thank my mother for her "spare the rod spoil the child" attitude. Being forced to be a certain way as a kid somehow gives me permission to be however I want to be as an adult. Years of therapy and a library of self-help books taught me that.
I did my first two years of college at the University of New Orleans, where I lived at the coed dorm. It was 1983. Reagan was president. We were listening to U.K. Squeeze, The Psychedelic Furs, and The Talking Heads. We were doing the Safety Dance and the Pogo at Andy Caps and in bars in Fat City and that place on St. Charles in the lower Garden District that's now a Daiquiri shop.
We were dressing like Madonna with lace gloves and fishnets and big, big shirts.
I don't know if ya'll remember that first moment of absolute adulthood freedom...the first time when you're on your own...away from your parents, making your own decisions but still too young to have any real responsibilities. That moment is magical.
All that Fall I felt that way, but there was one particular moment that I hold above all others. Several of us had somehow made it down to the Quarter to that bohemian coffee house Until Waiting Fills. I know for sure that Franc and Trina White were there because we did one of those cheesy chain poems that we thought was absolutely brilliant. I think there were a few other people. This was before I was a regular coffee drinker, so I was jacked up on the caffeine.
I remember looking out onto the street at the people walking by. It was dusk...the magic hour. Music floated in from somewhere. "I'm free," I said to myself. If I close my eyes and picture myself there, I can bring back that feeling of absolute freedom. You try it now. Remember that time for you, close your eyes and see yourself there. Isn't it an awesome feeling?
Comments
I was just writing a blog post that included a memory of Until Waiting Fills. Like you I remember sitting on the jumble of furniture, watching people go by and listening to the sound of footfall on the pavement. Except for me it was maybe 6 AM Mardi Gras morning 1979 (I believe). It was nice to find another reminiscence Thank you.
I love New Orleans and remember all too well Until Waiting Fills. I am starting up a new eco-friendly company today and its name is going to be "Until Waiting Fills". Send me your email and I will send updates. I loved that little cafe in the middle of the french quarter and spent time there enjoying the music & the young people who ventured in. I did alot of writing there. Could not locate the place last year. pmetzger@hvc.rr.com
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