BIG EASY: Butterfly Tea Party at the Windsor Court Hotel

Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve had an unnatural affinity for fancy hotels. Not upscale boutiques or snooty country clubs, but fancy hotels. It’s a bonus if I’m an actual guest, but merely enjoying their luxurious lobbies, lounges, and cafes gives me a lovely contact high that can last for days. Who knows why? Perhaps it’s weird residual past-life stuff, but the Oak Room at the Plaza in New York is like my own personal Mecca. So, when I moved to New Orleans and discovered the abundance of beautiful hotels, I fell even more deeply in love with the city.

Naturally, when I heard the Windsor Court Hotel and the Audubon Insectarium were co-hosting a “Butterfly Tea,” I was drawn to it like… well, a moth to a flame (lame, sorry). I’m also well aware that I have a very small window before my five-year-old son (a) starts really distinguishing between “boy” events and “girl” events, (b) stops wanting to hang out with mommy, and (c) is past the point of learning proper manners expected of guests at the aforementioned fancy hotels that mommy loves so much. So, I have to strike while the iron’s hot with stuff like this!

I found it both amusing and telling that when we pulled into the quaint courtyard, I had to convince my son it was quite okay to leave the car in the care of the valet – he’d bring it back. (Yeah, gotta get out more!) But it turned into a good lesson in etiquette and protocol later when I let him be the one to present the valet with our claim ticket and to tip him when he delivered the car. My brief tutorial on tipping servers and service staff probably went right over his head, but it doesn’t hurt to plant the seed early, right?

Cheerful doormen ushered us into the lobby where a photographer encouraged us to pose in front of giant butterfly image. The photo was presented to us later at our tables as a little bonus. Very sweet. After we took a short, exploratory stroll around the vast lobby to check out its oil paintings and regal decor, they began seating the guests. In addition to delicate china place settings, each table was adorned with a plexiglass case containing a pretty little bouquet nestled in a bed of Spanish moss with several live butterflies clinging to the blooms. Ours were a bit lethargic for my son’s taste, as he repeated a thousand times, but I felt giving the case a violent shake might be viewed as a bit tacky.

So, he settled for a visit to the Insectarium’s little display table to check out some pink katydids (my very favorite bug at the Insectarium), an intimidating-looking Indonesian beetle, a mantis, and a pair of display cases filled with lots of pinned-down moths and butterflies. The ladies manning the table were not only very knowledgeable, but very patient as they deftly handled the endless barrage of questions thrown at them by inquisitive little party guests. No shortage of curiosity in that bunch!

For this particular Afternoon Tea, Windsor Court's Le Salon offered a special children’s service, which included butterfly-shaped peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, a chocolate chip scone, colorfully iced butterfly cookies, and huge chocolate-covered strawberries. Adults had their choice of the “Classic” or “Royal” tea services. But, dahhhhling, for $8 more, who wouldn’t go for the Royal Tea which, in addition to the standard scones, tea sandwiches, and sweets, includes both smoked salmon and caviar canapés, AND your choice of a glass of sherry, champagne or chardonnay? I mean, reeeally!

(Note: Keep in mind for future grown-up ladies’ events, they also have a lengthy menu of amazingly decadent-sounding “sparkling wine cocktails,” with names like “Cerulean Sky” and “Sparkling Mint Julep.” Who’s free tomorrow night?!)

After scanning the sizable tea menu packed with lovely and detailed descriptions, I settled on the jasmine tea with its heavenly perfume. We’re talking serious ooh la la here, people. Of course, they offered lemonade as a tea alternative for the kids. I love that my son requested that I pour his into a dainty teacup, then suggested a toast: “One for all, and all for one!” Oh, why the heck not, right? But I convinced him that a light tap would probably be more prudent than slamming our cups together like a couple of pirates.

I have to say, I was incredibly pleased with the boy’s overall manners – and it seemed to be contagious. Not a single wild outburst from anyone the whole time we were there. I have to believe that, in addition to outstanding parenting, the elegant environment somehow must have influenced the youngsters. With the piano softly playing theme songs from children’s movies in the background (nice touch!), my son and I chatted, we nibbled, we sipped, we even laughed ‘til we cried at one point! (Okay, I’ll fess up. After one of his many complaints about the sleepy butterflies, I quite absentmindedly suggested maybe they were getting ready to turn into caterpillars. I have no excuse for such an idiotic statement, but much hilarity ensued, so it was worth it.)

Our server was very sweet and attentive throughout our visit, so at the conclusion of the tea, I decided to let it slide when she quite innocently said, “Oh, you’re all done? Most people have to take some home with them.” Hm. I was thinking, “Lady, I saved up all my daily calories for this. Be glad I didn’t lick the lemon curd right out of the dainty little bowl!” (I said I was thinking it, I didn't actually say it. Manners, y'know.)

Hours later, my son was sweaty and disgusting in his permanently stained baseball uniform, and I was cheering for him from the bleachers. Gotta love the yin and yang!

If you weren’t able to make it to this particular event, you’re in luck! Next month, on Friday, July 29th and Saturday, July 30th, the Windsor Court will be hosting a “Princess Tea.” Crown-shaped goodies, royal martinis, royal purple lemonade, royal decorations, and a crown for each princess? I might have to borrow someone’s little girl for this one!

For reservations, call 504-596-4773 or visit http://www.windsorcourthotel.com/.

For more information on the Audubon Insectarium, visit http://www.auduboninstitute.org/visit/insectarium.

BIG SCREEN: Cars 2 Revieux (Rated G)

I can’t even begin to estimate how many times I watched the first Cars movie between 2007-2008. Around the time my son turned two, he fell in love with the DVD and so did we, because it was the only thing that made him remain somewhat still. Ever. He was also a terrible eater, so nightly dinner screenings bought us a calm, quiet mealtime for many months. (Don’t judge. It saved our sanity, and never fear -- we broke him of the habit by age three.)

You’d think that after hundreds of viewings, I would’ve grown to hate it, but I honestly never did. Why? I guess it was the perfect balance of humor, sweetness, and nostalgia. The story was fairly simple, but the message was strong and the characters were so stinkin’ loveable. Movie magic! When I heard that the sequel was going to take place in Europe and feature a spy story, I feared they were overreaching. And I was right.

In Cars 2, Tow Mater (still Larry the Cable Guy) accompanies Lightning McQueen (still Owen Wilson) as he crosses the Atlantic to race on the European circuit. Through a series of mishaps, Mater is mistaken for a secret agent and has the opportunity to prove he’s not just a silly jalopy who exists for everyone else’s amusement. The legendary Michael Caine voices Finn McMissile, a suave Aston Martin/British Agent and Emily Mortimer (Shutter Island) plays his associate Holly Shiftwell, a purple Bond-girlish car that can fly. The old supporting cast sort of pops up at the beginning and end, but they serve no real purpose.

Here’s the deal, I totally understand ramping everything up to extreme levels with the third or fourth installment of a franchise, when they run out of ideas – but, for number two? Oy. They couldn’t come up with a storyline a little closer to home, with just a hint of the aforementioned sweetness and nostalgia?

Doc is gone. No explanation. Obviously we all know Paul Newman’s passing made it impossible to reprise that character, but they totally gloss over his absence. What a missed opportunity to have made this an integral part of the movie, somehow teaching kids to mourn the loss of someone while honoring their memory.

Or, how about this: with the influx of traffic and tourists that pour in after Lightning relocated his headquarters to Radiator Springs, everyone in town goes all slick and high-tech and commercial, then somehow they realize they have to simplify and regain their small-town camaraderie. Maybe?

Sigh. Instead we mindlessly trek around the world with jet cars and espionage and big oil vs. alternative fuel (I kid you not). The young ‘uns will like the action and the smattering of giggle-worthy jokes, but I doubt they’ll want to wear the DVD out, like with the old one. And the adults will miss certainly the emotional connection the original movie inspired. No heartstrings are tugged. No eyes become remotely misty. What a shame.

For New Orleans-area movie theaters and showtimes, visit...
http://neworleans.mrmovietimes.com/

BIG SCREEN: Bad Teacher Revieux (Rated R)

Cameron Diaz must have thought she’d died and gone to heaven when she read this script. I can’t imagine a more fun, liberating role to play than a really bad girl with few-to-no redeeming qualities. JACKPOT!

Her character, Elizabeth Halsey, is a trash-mouthed, hard-drinking, dope-smoking gold digger who got into teaching for all the wrong reasons, and is desperate to get right back out. When she gets dumped by her sugar daddy/fiancé, her priorities become: (a) lie, cheat and steal to raise money for breast implants (b) land the wealthy new substitute teacher (Justin Timberlake), and (c) make life miserable for her nemesis, an annoying, overly enthusiastic fellow teacher (Lucy Punch).

Notice that neither teach nor encourage her students appears on that list.

If you don’t like raunchy humor, you may as well just cut to my Cars 2 review right now. It’s alright, we won’t judge you for being tasteful!

Okay, for the rest of you, I can think of pretty much nothing I didn’t love about this movie. Yes, yes -- by day I’m a G-rated mommy who watches my language, minds my manners, and sets a good example for my little boy. But, man, there’s nothing like a good, uncensored hour-and-a-half of naughty humor to ease the tension. You remember movies like this from the 80s: Porky’s, Animal House, Fast Times at Ridgemont High (Bad Teacher's very cool 80s soundtrack underscores the similarities, by the way). But the difference is, the adult humor is perpetrated by the adults, not the teens, so we don’t have to feel like pervs watching it. And – most importantly – the leader of the raunchiness is a woman. I think it’s a first in this particular genre, and Diaz does us proud. She totally embraces the role and delivers, big time.

A major part of why this movie is so great is the amazing, amazing casting. All the supporting actors and actresses are as ideally suited to their roles as Diaz, and they totally commit to their characters. In addition to Timberlake, who’s not afraid to play a repressed little worm (did this add to the appeal for ex-girlfriend Cameron?!), and Punch, who goes delightfully over-the-top and borderline psychotic, Jason Segal adds a slightly Judge Reinhold/Brad Hamiltonesque quality to his portrayal of the lovable gym teacher who totally has Elizabeth’s number. But, next to Cameron Diaz, the star of the show has got to be Phyllis Smith, aka, Phyllis from The Office. She plays a self-conscious, nervous fellow teacher who inexplicably gravitates toward Elizabeth, takes on a sort of awkward sidekick role, and delivers some of the greatest lines in the movie.

Dudes will enjoy this movie, too, but, really, it’s let-your-hair-down, girls’-night-out perfection. On par with – and maybe even a shade funnier than -- Bridesmaids. Yeah, I said it!

Keep those funny-lady-driven comedies coming, Hollywood!

For New Orleans-area movie theaters and showtimes, visit...
http://neworleans.mrmovietimes.com/

BIG EASY: Musee Conti Wax Museum of New Orleans

…did you know there was one?! Even friends of mine who’ve lived here forever did not. I’ve passed it many times on Conti in the Quarter and have always been curious. And what better time than summer to hit some of the off-the-beaten-path local attractions that your kids haven’t had time to get sick of?

So, yes, once again I used my 5-year-old son as a guinea pig -- all in the name of science. I made sure not to hype it up too much, as I really had no idea what to expect. The museum is located in a super quiet, super sleepy back part of the Quarter, which adds to the mystique – and makes street parking a breeze. How often can you say that about this neighborhood?!

Before we began our self-guided tour (guided group/school tours are also available), we got a glimpse of their upstairs event facility. It’s a huge space with sky-high ceilings, exposed brick, a stage, two bars, and tons of tables and fancy gold chairs. Please invite me if you rent this place for an event. I love the idea of having a party at a wax museum… and I really need a reason to dress up. Sigh.

Anyway, on with the wax. This joint is awesomely dark and musty, as a wax museum in a historic building should be. It’s made up of four long halls lined with stalls that depict various events and characters significant to New Orleans’ history and lore. Instead of being merely displayed, most of the wax figures are staged within either uniquely characteristic situations or specific historical events. A plaque, or series of plaques, is posted in front of each stall, explaining the back story of each scene.

Of course, they cover all the usual suspects: pirate Jean Lafitte’s infamous meeting with Andrew Jackson, the Battle of New Orleans, Marie Laveau accepting payment from a bride seeking a little voodoo marital insurance, Mark Twain on a riverboat, Mardi Gras stuff, etc. Oh, and there's Napoleon, sitting in a bathtub (pictured, at top) as he explains to his brother and advisers how he made the Louisiana Purchase deal without consulting anyone else. We both got a huge kick out of this one -- especially the strategically placed sponge.

But, the very best part was the stuff that I’d never heard of before. Like the “Casket Girls” (pictured, right). Are you familiar? Apparently, the governor of Louisiana asked France to send over some prospective wives for the soldiers and city planners as New Orleans was in its infancy, and France obliged. Teenage girls made the long voyage over, each bearing only a small wooden casket of belongings, and were housed at the Ursuline Convent while the nuns arranged their marriages. Just as many Bostonians pride themselves on tracing their families back to the Mayflower, many New Orleanians feel similarly about the Casket Girls, according to the plaque. Hm. Seems slightly creepy, but it’s fascinating, nonetheless!

Down another hall, two guys in a boxing ring accompany the tidbit that Louisiana was the first state to legalize prize fighting. And gamblers gathered around an antique craps table (pictured, left) serve as the backdrop for the story of how the game allegedly got its name. The local Americans referred to the Creoles as frogs, or crapaud, which was shortened to become the name of the dice game that the warring factions both happened to adore.

I’m a total trivia geek, so of course I totally dug this place, but I was shocked that my son was not only into the eerie wax figures, but actually interested in my synopsis of each scene. I made them quite brief, of course, but still! This is an unusual and excellent way to add a little dimension to the boring textbook accounts of New Orleans history.

And, ps -- there's a surprise, random, creepy-gory dungeon hall at the very end, featuring everything from a Freddy Krueger figure to scenes from Edgar Allen Poe stories. Not sure if it's to serve as a treat for well-behaved kids, or a threat for the naughty ones...

For more information on the New Orleans Wax Museum, please visit http://www.neworleanswaxmuseum.com/.

BIG SCREEN: Green Lantern Revieux (PG-13)

I’m not a huge sci-fi fan, but I’ve been curious about this Green Hornet movie for a while. Mostly because it seems like they were filming here in New Orleans forever, so as childish as it is, I was curious to see if the scenes we witnessed made the final cut. Oh, and because the trailers looked relatively cool.

So, this Green Lantern comic book phenomenon – I thought I was familiar with the concept, but I think my feeble mind was confusing it with Green Hornet. (My apologies, comic book geeks of earth.) Apparently, “Green Lantern” refers to a whole legion of intergalactic policemen who have lantern-powered rings that allow them to conjure up stuff when they get in a jam. Have I sufficiently irritated GL fans with my lackluster description?! Whatever.

In the movie, Hal Jordan (Ryan Reynolds, Two Guys, a Girl, and a Pizza Place... Google this 90s sitcom gem) is a rebellious, death-defying test pilot who’s haunted by the memory of watching his dad, a celebrated pilot back in his day, die in a fiery jet crash. While he’s battling his demons and his inability to commit to anything, let alone former/soon-to-be-current love interest and fellow pilot, Carol Ferris (Blake Lively, Gossip Girl), there’s a cosmic showdown happening between the Green Lantern corps and an evil, giant space leviathan called Parallax. After it kills a mighty Green Lantern warrior, the fallen dude’s ring chooses Hal as a replacement. Parallax soon descends upon Earth and Hal must conquer his fears if he’s to save the planet, and perhaps, even the universe.

Alright, gotta tell you – I was pretty much ready to leave after the first 10 minutes of this movie. First of all, the 3-D was completely screwed up. Everything was jerky and distorted – and actually slightly better without the glasses. But the technical glitch wasn’t the only problem. The story was hokey, the dialogue was weak, and the acting was just awful! Blake Lively was anything but (lively, that is), and, despite the smokin’ bod and sexy perma-stubble, Ryan Reynolds was like a broken record with his trademark overly ironic delivery of every single line.

UGH! It was not looking good.

But, not long after the 3-D glitch was resolved, the movie seemed to sort of hit its stride. The romantic subplot was still lame and distracting (I hated that aspect of Spiderman, too – is this a chick flick or an action movie?!), but the spectacular special effects and fight sequences finally kicked in, as did the overall excitement. Really cool to look at. And Peter Sarsgaard (Dead Man Walking, Boys Don’t Cry, husband to Maggie Gyllenhaal) kicks some tail in his seriously creepy performance as a scientist who becomes infected by Parallax and transforms into a bubble-foreheaded psychopath.

Overall, content: flimsy. Visuals: cool. Cool enough to warrant a trip to the theater? I think so. But I suppose it depends on your priorities/mood/state of mind/standards. I have no concept of how this is being received by hardcore Green Lantern fans, as I don't speak geek, but I'm sure it will be excellent fodder for Comic-Con panel discussions. (Hm, I just might qualify as a geek for knowing what that is.)

FYI… some of the scenes where the Parallax sucks the life out of its victims were actually a little on the intense side. My five-year-old son is pretty tough and fearless when it comes to movies. He can handle the occasional PG-13 flick, but I’m thinking he’s not quite ready for this one.

For New Orleans-area movie theaters and showtimes, visit...
http://neworleans.mrmovietimes.com/

BIG SCREEN: Mr. Popper’s Penguins Revieux (Rated PG)

Have you ever read the book Mr. Popper’s Penguins, by Richard and Florence Atwater? I hadn’t, so I ducked into a bookstore and skimmed it after I saw the movie. Didn’t take much more than a skim to see that all the two seem to have in common are penguins and the use of the name “Mr. Popper.” That’s pretty much where the similarity ends. Seems silly to even call it by the same name, but whatever.

In the movie, Jim Carrey plays a really smarmy, selfish, heartless corporate guy who’s divorced, yet still somewhat friendly with his cool ex-wife, but his kids don’t trust him because he’s let them down so many times. Let’s stop right there for a second. Does it seem like you’ve seen this movie before and you know exactly where it’s heading, despite minor changes? Ever seen Liar, Liar? I swear, it’s the exact same character and set-up. But, instead of his son wishing he can never lie again, he’s taught some life lessons by some super cute penguins that his recently deceased, absentee, explorer/father left him. His dilemma: how to remain an evil corporate shark while hosting a colony/waddle/rookery (I looked it up) of heartwarming penguins in his apartment?

Here’s where it actually gets good: the visual effects are totally seamless. You really can’t tell which ones are real penguins and which are computer-generated. Either way, the little waddlers are really entertaining and adorable, even with all the poo and fart jokes. A lot of Carrey’s scenes with them are very sweet and funny, but then it happens. I know most people either love or hate him, and I usually lean toward the love camp, but his sporadic antics in the movie are clunky and distracting. They’re totally out of character for the slick Mr. Popper – but vintage Carrey. It’s as though the director tried his best to hold him back, but every now and then he just said, “Screw it. Go, Jim. Be rubbery and over the top. Get it out of your system!”

This may be of no interest to anyone but me, but I was shocked when I noticed the director’s name: Mark Waters. I wondered if maybe there’s more than one in the business, because it couldn’t be the same Mark Waters I interviewed years ago for a truly twisted and awesome Parker Posey movie called House of Yes. But, alas, they’re one and the same. (And his brother wrote the movie Heathers!) I hate to bust his chops for selling out -- I mean, I know the dude’s gotta make a living and all but, yikes! I was also surprised when I saw there were three people listed as writers. Three times the brain power and they still couldn’t come up with a better story? Yikes, again.

Okay. It’s not a horrible movie. It’s not even a particularly bad movie. But it could’ve been so much better with a little originality... or if they'd stuck with the original story. It totally feels like people were just phoning it in for a paycheck (like I wouldn’t do the same thing, given the chance), but your kids will like it if they can stick it out until the cute penguins show up. Oh, and they film a bunch at the Guggenheim Museum and Tavern on the Green in New York, which is not as good as being there, but really fun to look at. (Have you checked airfares lately? I’ll take what I can get, people.)

For New Orleans-area movie theaters and showtimes, visit...
http://neworleans.mrmovietimes.com/

BIG SCREEN: The Tree of Life Revieux (Rated PG-13)

If you’re sick of the same ol’ formulaic movies, then The Tree of Life is for you.

And that’s probably the simplest, most concise statement you’ll read in this whole review. It’s just that kind of movie.

Let me see if I can sum it up in one sentence: It’s writer/director Terrence Malick’s highly conceptual interpretation of the existential crisis people face when they question their faith and ponder the meaning of life. Does that sound like academic babble? If you’ve ever seen his other movies, like The Thin Red Line, you understand how hard it is to describe his work in simple terms. But I’ll give it another shot.

There are two major components to The Tree of Life that are broken down and shuffled together like a deck of cards. One is a storyline that lets the audience hear a 1950s Texas family’s inner thoughts/prayers/dialogues with God as they each try to make sense of loss and other harsh realities of life. Brad Pitt plays the dad who loves his family to bits, but tends to take his frustrations and failures out on them with his nitpicking and explosive outbursts. His wife (Jessica Chastain) is a loving, nurturing mother who’s torn between remaining obedient to her husband and protecting her sons from him. Their oldest boy (Hunter McCracken) is struggling to find a balance between being a good kid and doing the naughty stuff red-blooded mean big brothers do. As an adult, he (Sean Penn) continues to grapple with the big questions, appears to eventually make some sense of it all spiritually, but can’t seem to apply it to the real world.

The story is presented in chunks, mostly out of sequence, and it’s interspersed with the other major component: spectacular images of natural and cosmic events. I guess they’re open to interpretation, but I took them to represent everything from the human soul to heaven and hell to the origins of life on Earth. Y’know, the concepts people tackle when they’re trying to figure out… well, the meaning of life.

Quite an ambitious undertaking, don’t you think?

There's a line towards the beginning of the movie that says, and I'm paraphrasing, that people have to choose between the way of grace and the way of nature. I think Malick's suggesting that we have to marry the two or we wind up with confusion, as he illustrates with the unusual composition of the movie.

If you don’t enjoy puzzles and visual stimuli that don’t always have a clear-cut purpose, you probably won’t dig this movie. I sort of took it as a challenge, and I wavered back and forth between just letting images and concepts wash over me to guessing their meaning like a mental game show. (Lava flow of emotion! Inner demons? No, wait -- purgatory!) I've chosen not to read much that's been written about this movie because my interpretation makes sense to me, so if it's wrong, I have no freakin' idea what I watched for two-and-a-half hours.

I hear the movie was booed by audiences at Cannes, which I think is ridiculous. Sure, it’s frustrating that Malick didn’t fill in all the gaps and some of his symbolism just flew right over my head, but the performances are pretty strong (even Brad Pitt’s, can you believe it?!) and you’ve gotta at least give Malick major points for creativity and originality. At the very least, I doubt you’re going to walk out of this thinking, “Oh, please. He totally ripped off Liar, Liar.” (See Mr. Popper’s Penguins revieux.)

For New Orleans-area movie theaters and showtimes, visit...
http://neworleans.mrmovietimes.com/

BIG EASY: New Orleans Museum of Art

At long last, I decided to take advantage of NOMA’s freebee Wednesday afternoon – and to take my son with me. He’s a typical five year old, so I pretty much knew what to expect: mild to moderate interest followed by a rapid decline. So, I decided to sweeten the deal by throwing in lunch at Ralph Brennan’s Courtyard Café, located on the first level of the museum. He was psyched. As was I.

I’d checked online and it didn’t give specifics, but mentioned a kids’ menu, so I thought I was home-free. We made a bee-line as soon as we got there because we all know, a full tummy will buy you at least a little more patience (this usually goes for husbands, too, right?). I scanned the menu and saw amazing cheese plates and a really great assortment of paninis, soups, salads and such at very reasonable prices -- mostly under $10. Excellent.

What I hadn’t counted on was the proliferance of cheese, with the kids’ selections limited to grilled cheese and flatbread pizza. And here’s me with – you guessed it -- the only non-cheese-eating kid on the planet. Uh oh. I really thought I was a goner when they told me they had no plain lemonade, just the fancy basil variety. The only option, other than water, is flavored Italian soda – and he can’t stand carbonation. Oy, right?!

After a little negotiation with him and some amenability on the café’s part, we managed to put together a side order of roast chicken, a bag of Zapp’s, and ice water with as many lemon wedges as he cared to jam into it. I ordered a lovely little spinach salad and finally we got to enjoy the sleek, airy space with its floor-to-ceiling windows that afford views of both the park and the quaint patio, filled with umbrella-shaded tables.

Appetites sated and a wad of bubblegum shoved into his mouth (for insurance purposes), we ventured into the galleries. The Ancestors of the Congo Square African art exhibit was a hit with its super cool masks, exotic statues and animal-skull-infused pieces. A couple of the other exhibits had sporadic pieces that piqued his interest, but about 30 minutes into our somewhat fast-forwarded tour, I sensed the end was drawing nigh. I managed to squeeze another 15 minutes out of him as we breezed through pretty much every remaining gallery on the museum's three floors, but we moms know when the party’s over.

Naturally, it was on our way out that I discovered the secret to getting my kid more interested in the art. I let him take a few pictures with my phone and I saw the light come on. I asked which was his favorite piece in the whole museum, and I let him go take a few shots. (That’s the “naughty dogs,” as we referred to them, at right, as photographed by my boy. I wish I could blame the lopsided photo of the exterior of the museum on him, too -- but that's all me and my cockeyed view of the world...)

Holy smokes, why didn’t I think of this sooner?! Even if it’s just a disposable one, I’m definitely going to give him a camera next time we hit a museum. Eureka! Now, I’m not naive enough to think this will result in a three-hour in-depth tour, but what better way to encourage them to really check out the art than to give them the freedom to photograph the stuff that catches their eye? Then, you can tell them a little about each one. It’s guerilla education at its finest.

All in all, it went pretty well. I’m a firm believer in exposing our kids to the arts as early and as often as possible (whether they like it or not--ha!) – and I’m hoping he’ll have more of an interest/appreciation after the George Rodrigue arts camp next week. We’ll definitely be back to try the camera thing. HOWEVER, I'm thinking my next visit will involve some Manchego cheese, Sauvignon Blanc and a leisurely and thoughtful stroll through the galleries with a girlfriend!

Ahh.

For more information on NOMA, their special exhibitions and their calendar of events, visit www.noma.org.

BIG EASY: Hotel Monteleone... for Kids?

Given that the hubster is STILL in recovery mode after contracting French Quarter Funk at the Oyster Festival last week (perhaps I overplayed the bravado a bit in that post), I decided to skip all the festival festivities this weekend, and opted for a less crowded French Quarter activity: a birthday party for Monte the Lion, the Hotel Monteleone’s mascot.

Like me, I’m sure many of you have been to a kiddie party or two in a swank locale that tried to cater to both the kids and the parents, only to fall short in both categories. Oh, cool -- mommy gets to go the fancy hotel in a nice dress, but she has to spend the whole time catering to her bored, cranky kid because the hosts just threw out some stupid crafts, a lame DJ, and some snacks in silver serving dishes. Certainly the kids will be satisfied simply hanging out in the Ooh-La-La Hotel. Serious miscalculation. Wasted afternoon.

That’s why when I committed to this party, I didn’t have very high expectations. Sure, it was at the fabulous, historic Hotel Monteleone, which I’ve passed in the French Quarter a million times, but never actually visited. I always hear about the cool Carousel Bar and its amazing cocktails, but this ain’t that kind of affair. So, in we trudged, up to the ballroom, past all the chandeliers and grandeur, and I wondered how long we’d have to stay without seeming rude.

I have to admit, it was a pretty nice spread. Kid-friendly hot dogs, hamburgers, and french fries galore were all displayed in the aforementioned silver chafing dishes, along with fine silverware, embossed napkins, and a friendly, accommodating staff in crisp white uniforms. And they upped the ante quite a bit with a made-to-order, cold-stone ice cream station and a DIY cupcake decorating table. Nicely played, but come on, even if we hit the crafts table, we could burn through this in 45 minutes flat.

What I didn’t account for was the formidable hosting committee. Monte the birthday lion was joined by Gumbo the Saints’ St. Bernard, Boudreaux the Zephyrs’ nutria, Hugo the Hornet, and B97’s bee (they're pictured, above, playing a comical game of musical chairs). Yeah, I know it’s their jobs to entertain and all, but you’d sort of understand if they phoned it in for a little kids’ party. But for two hours, these guys (and a girl) were as committed to silly party games as they are to entertaining thousands of screaming sports fans, and they lavished each kid with tons of attention. Seriously, after being hugged on and spun around and tickled the whole time, I had to pry my son off poor Gumbo more than once.

Even their choice of DJ was spot on. This dude managed to keep things rolling with just enough banter to goad the mascots and keep both kids and parents amused – not an easy task. The grand finale was a second line around the room, complete with napkins a-wavin’ all over the place. God bless New Orleans!

I’m not kidding when I tell you I was grinning like an idiot the whole time, and my kid was sopping wet with dance-induced sweat. Oh, and our final departure time was 15 minutes after the event was scheduled to end. THIS is how it’s done, folks!

We skipped Monte’s annual children’s holiday tea last year, as it sounded like a disciplinary nightmare for my active five-year-old, but I’ve seen the light. These people know what they’re doing, so we’ll be first in line for this year’s festivities!

For more info on the Hotel Monteleone or to check out their calendar of events, visit http://www.hotelmonteleone.com/

BIG SCREEN: Judy Moody and the Not Bummer Summer Revieux (Rated PG)

You know how so many movies these days manage to bridge the age gap, appealing to kids and parents alike? Some of the jokes and references are lobbed way over the kids’ heads, just to entertain the adults. Uh, yeah. This ain’t one of those movies.

Judy Moody (Jordana Beatty) is a third grader who’s determined to make this the best summer ever, unlike all the previous boring ones. She devises a competitive chart, complete with a point system, to encourage her posse of friends to strive for a “thrilladelic” summer. To her dismay, her best pals and even her parents leave town, and she seems doomed to another season of utter boredom. When her wacky and beautiful Aunt Opal (Heather Graham – oh, Rollergirl, how far ye have fallen) shows up to babysit, things start to look up. But can Judy actually keep this summer from turning into a total bummer?

Unfortunately for parents, Judy’s is a world of precocious, over-enunciating kids (except for her brother, Stink, who has a thick speech impediment), a hefty supply of poo and puke jokes, and Steve Urkel (aka, Jaleel White) as a teacher. Sure, he’s all grown up, but how can we ever see past that lasting impression? Highly. Annoying. BUT, it’s also a world where a little kid constantly uses her imagination to entertain herself. It’s kind of refreshing that her list of thrills involves stuff like walking a homemade tightrope, riding a local rollercoaster with no hands, and camping in a tent in the backyard in hopes of catching Big Foot. Ah, simplicity and ingenuity. Remember summers like that?

So, while it ain’t the universally appealing Shrek or Kung Fu Panda, the kids all seemed to dig it. And I guess it’s our job as parents to occasionally take one for the team, right? As we left the theater, my son actually asked if we could see it again. Wow, that’s a ringing endorsement. I smiled, tousled his hair and said, “No way, dude.”

I’m no martyr, people. I said take ONE for the team.

For New Orleans-area movie theaters and showtimes, visit...
http://neworleans.mrmovietimes.com/

BIG EASY: Oysters with a Side of Funk

So, my family and I went to the Oyster Festival last weekend (my husband and son are pictured, left, digging the "Bag of Donuts" show), and I would’ve blogged about it sooner, but my husband’s been battling a nasty case of the plague ever since -- and I’ve been on Florence Nightingale patrol. After 24 hours of non-stop, um, regurgitation and fever, we hit the ER Monday night. Blood work, urine analysis, x-ray and a basic symptom check ruled out pneumonia, infection and food poisoning. They juiced him up with an IV and sent us home with anti-puke pills, but three days later, the fever is still lurking. They call it a nasty virus, I call it French Quarter Funk.

Now, before you call me out, I’m not suggesting that every case of the upchucks after hanging out in the Quarter is germ/virus-related. Certainly, we’ve all gotten caught up in festivities and perhaps, er, overhydrated ourselves with spirited beverages once or twice, but this is different.

It’s no secret that the French Quarter isn’t the most sterile of environments, but throw in festival food that’s been baking in 100-degree weather, hoards of people emitting all kinds of bodily fluids, and close proximity to said-hoards, and there’s just no guarantee you’re coming out unscathed. A few months ago, my five-year-old son caught a similar bug after spending an afternoon in the Vieux Carre and consuming a Lucky Dog on the street. Who knows where he picked up that bug, but if mama’s incessant hand-sanitizing couldn’t ward it off, it was obviously just meant to be.

One would think that one would avoid regions that one has identified as major germ distribution centers, wouldn’t one? But then, one would miss out on all the fun -- it’s the Quarter and we love it!

Okay, stick with me on this one -- I see this whole incident as a metaphor for the city of New Orleans itself. And I’ve got one more example before I make my actual point.

On Saturday night, after we got home from the festival and the neighbors’ shrimp boil, I tweeted, “Living in Nola has taught me to not obsess over the fact that I may or may not have watched a server drip sweat into my order at the Oyster Fest.” To which, New Orleans tweeple replied with something to the effect of, “Dawlin’, he was just adding a little seasoning!” My native neighbors reacted the exact same way. Not a single one was disgusted. And I felt just a little more like a local for having blown off the whole, unsanitary event in order to enjoy myself.

Now do you get it? Many people from the outside world see New Orleans as a tainted entity. Like an oyster poboy topped with someone else’s bodily fluids… like a drive-thru daiquiri that’s served up with a side of stomach flu. What they don't understand is, the beauty of New Orleans lies not in its amazing cuisine, its classic architecture, or even its soulful jazz. No, the true beauty lies in the dirt and the decay and the bodily by-products that go along with it. They give the city its depth of character, and they weed out the riff-raff. If you can’t accept the good with the bad, the yin with the yang, the sweet with the stank – well, then maybe you don’t belong here. Scurry on back to your sterile suburbs and Purell yourselves head to toe. We’ve got some livin’ to do!