The Heat is like its own character. No matter what you're doing, the Heat comes in and takes over. Like a ham actor in a play who upstages all the other action and actors, the Heat is distracting, taking your attention from anything else. Walking outside even just to pick up the paper or get to your (air conditioned) car is like walking straight into a hot wet wall. Being outside for any length of time is like letting the sun beat you on the head with a hammer. (You even have to wear a hat while you're in a swimming pool -- and speaking of swimming pools, how do you like dipping into warm bath tubs?)
Sure, it always gets hot in New Orleans in summer, and yes, it's always a drag. But this, this is something else. This extreme heat is brain-numbing, personality-distorting. You can't think, you can't function, you can't do anything but move slowly, sit around and sweat, complaining dully the whole time. It wouldn't surprise me at all if domestic violence and murder rates go up -- no one can keep their temper or sustain being nice in this Heat.
Of course, this has to be the time that our downstairs air conditioner will decide to quit on us. We've cranked up the upstairs unit and employed electric fans to stir the cooler air dropping down the stairwell so that downstairs is at least *somewhat* bearable. (Frozen gel packs pressed against the body help some too, as does copious amounts of ice water.) It goes without saying that every a/c repair place in the city is overbooked right now. We're hoping someone will get to our house today, but it's been 3 weeks of this (luckily for us, one week of that we were in Utah, where, even though it is a desert, for goodness' sake, it was cooler than here).
Weather reports say it will break soon. From their lips to God's ears. We can't take much more of this.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Rebirth of the Roosevelt Hotel
This week the Roosevelt Hotel reopened for the first time after Katrina. The Roosevelt as always been one of the foremost luxury hotels in the city -- maybe in the whole country -- since it was first opened in the early 20th century, and over the years it became a hallmark of elegance and sophistication for generations of New Orleanians. Celebrities of all kinds have stayed there and performed there in the world-famous Blue Room. New Orleanians rich and middle class have marked the important occasions of their lives inside the Roosevelt. Its remaining closed since the Storm was like a hole in the fabric of New Orleans, a hole in our hearts.
The hotel has played an important role in the life of our family too. My older sister B was taken to a show in the Blue Room by our dad for her sixteenth birthday. Our parents ate dinner there and saw shows with friends for special occasions. While I was in college, I worked the 3 pm to 11 pm shift on the front desk of the Roosevelt in the early 1970s. For a short period of time, my sister L worked the Concierge Desk at the Roosevelt, and in the late 1970s/early 1980s, my sister D worked in the public relations department there. Later, when I was working at Godchaux's specialty store, then across the Baronne Street door of the Roosevelt, I waited on several giant-name celebrities who were appearing at the Blue Room (the exquisite Bernadette Peters, the legendary Lena Horne) as they browsed the designer clothing on Godchaux's 4th floor. The lovely Miss Peters actually had me and my date seated ringside a a table reserved for "friends of Miss Peters"! I once saw Lily Tomlin in the Blue Room, as I was seated with a crowd of the local chapter of the Daughters of Bilitis. The night before my son was born, his father and I enjoyed a special dinner at the Sazerac Restaurant. I've seen the great Allen Toussaint in the Blue Room twice -- the first time, I left a "mash note" to tell him how important his music was in my life, and to my delighted astonishment, the next year, he told the Blue Room audience how much the note had meant to him!!
So the Roosevelt is not just a city icon, it's personal, very personal.
Purchased after Katrina by the Waldorf Astoria (which is actually an arm of the Hilton), the hotel has undergone a multimillion dollar makeover and renovation. We have all been waiting with bated breaths for it to reopen. While I'm sure the new owners want the hotel to be completely finished and ready for "the season" that starts when the weather breaks in the fall, apparently they did not want to miss the business available for the Essence festival this weekend. Thus, even though the pool and tennis courts and convention and meeting rooms won't be ready for another two weeks, and even though the John Besh Italian restaurant in the old Bailey's location won't open until late August, the hotel has "soft-opened" this week.
I made Big Man promise to take me tonight. We dolled up a bit (Big Man wore a jacket that he would later remove for his gig at the Blues Club) and went in separate cars to meet in the Roosevelt's gilded block-long lobby. Oh my god, it was all I could do not to cry. The lobby gleamed -- regilded and repainted, the gleaming floor stripped of the commercial carpet down to the marble and tile (when they pulled up the carpet that had lain for decades, they discovered only remnants of the original tile from the early 1900s, and then they *replicated* the tile design!!).
The elegant Sazerac Restaurant is no longer deep red and burgundy, but soft old gold -- a giant change, but in keeping with the way it had been. We checked out the menus -- plural because the *new* Sazerac will be open for breakfast and lunch as well as dinner -- and were pleased both with the selections and the prices. Yes, it's expensive, but by no means the most expensive place to eat in the city (below Restaurant August, for example). Wedding anniversary in October, anyone?
The Art Deco delights of the Sazerac Bar were still there -- the ribbed lights along the bar, the mirrored bar back, the stylized murals, the rounded booths, the warm wood paneling in the bar's lobby area. The bartenders still wear the pressed and starched white coats. The only thing I could see missing were the giant silver trophies that used to ornament the bar. The noise level rose to din level as old-time New Orleanians (some the folks in there simply reeked of Uptown and old money) partied and drank and visited each other's booths and tables, exclaiming over the renovation details. We overtipped like crazy as part of the celebration.
We checked out the new Roosevelt Gift Shop (in the same location as the old Jack Sutton's), and were impressed with the stuff and the prices, which were not outrageous, just upscale. Big Man fell totally in love with the new hotel bathrobes, glaringly white, the Roosevelt monogram logo over the breast, the inside plush absorbent terry cloth and the outside an incredibly silky microfiber, for about $85, which is not at all bad for luxury hotel bathrobes (I believe the ones at the W Hotel are $125). There were New Orleans-themed items and hotel logo items and Mardi Gras items, and then the usual overpriced refreshments that all hotel shops carry. (There was also Zapp's Voodoo chips, which are the absolute best and will hopefully turn lots of visitors into Zapp's fans. It's definitely our favorite -- how can you not love Zapp's chips that have everything on them??)
The biggest changes I noted were that the men's room had been relocated from up the marble stairs over to between the Blue Room (still locked up, unfortunately) and what used to be the bar next door, and that that bar had been changed into a coffee and pastry and gelato bar with a flat-screen TV in one corner, faced with comfortable seating. The former bar had been been kept dark at all hours of the day, perfect for assignations, and had featured a murky mural on the back wall (I think the walls were painted dark navy blue or even black). It was a little disorienting to find it so bright and light and cream-colored, the old mural covered by cream and dark-cream patterned wallpaper, the light bright and clean, to better showcase the work-of-art pastries on display (heaven preserve me!). They had kept the tradition of having some seating in the lobby. We sat there and struck up a conversation with an Essence visitor (of course I suggested he and his friends go to hear Big Man play on Bourbon Street!).
As we strolled the lobby, marveling and admiring, we were surrounded by other New Orleanians doing the same thing. After Big Man left, I spoke briefly to a couple who were scorning the fancy-shmancy French sculpture clock now at the University Street entrance (not yet in use). The woman and I agreed that this Christmas the new owners HAD to decorate the lobby with the traditional angel-hair decorations, or, as the woman said to me, "We'll have to bring in angel-hair ourselves." Of course I agreed with her.
The return -- the rebirth -- of the Roosevelt Hotel is a very good thing for New Orleans and a wonderful thing for me and my family. Another milestone since Katrina, another sign of our recovery. This is a good thing, a very good thing indeed.
The hotel has played an important role in the life of our family too. My older sister B was taken to a show in the Blue Room by our dad for her sixteenth birthday. Our parents ate dinner there and saw shows with friends for special occasions. While I was in college, I worked the 3 pm to 11 pm shift on the front desk of the Roosevelt in the early 1970s. For a short period of time, my sister L worked the Concierge Desk at the Roosevelt, and in the late 1970s/early 1980s, my sister D worked in the public relations department there. Later, when I was working at Godchaux's specialty store, then across the Baronne Street door of the Roosevelt, I waited on several giant-name celebrities who were appearing at the Blue Room (the exquisite Bernadette Peters, the legendary Lena Horne) as they browsed the designer clothing on Godchaux's 4th floor. The lovely Miss Peters actually had me and my date seated ringside a a table reserved for "friends of Miss Peters"! I once saw Lily Tomlin in the Blue Room, as I was seated with a crowd of the local chapter of the Daughters of Bilitis. The night before my son was born, his father and I enjoyed a special dinner at the Sazerac Restaurant. I've seen the great Allen Toussaint in the Blue Room twice -- the first time, I left a "mash note" to tell him how important his music was in my life, and to my delighted astonishment, the next year, he told the Blue Room audience how much the note had meant to him!!
So the Roosevelt is not just a city icon, it's personal, very personal.
Purchased after Katrina by the Waldorf Astoria (which is actually an arm of the Hilton), the hotel has undergone a multimillion dollar makeover and renovation. We have all been waiting with bated breaths for it to reopen. While I'm sure the new owners want the hotel to be completely finished and ready for "the season" that starts when the weather breaks in the fall, apparently they did not want to miss the business available for the Essence festival this weekend. Thus, even though the pool and tennis courts and convention and meeting rooms won't be ready for another two weeks, and even though the John Besh Italian restaurant in the old Bailey's location won't open until late August, the hotel has "soft-opened" this week.
I made Big Man promise to take me tonight. We dolled up a bit (Big Man wore a jacket that he would later remove for his gig at the Blues Club) and went in separate cars to meet in the Roosevelt's gilded block-long lobby. Oh my god, it was all I could do not to cry. The lobby gleamed -- regilded and repainted, the gleaming floor stripped of the commercial carpet down to the marble and tile (when they pulled up the carpet that had lain for decades, they discovered only remnants of the original tile from the early 1900s, and then they *replicated* the tile design!!).
The elegant Sazerac Restaurant is no longer deep red and burgundy, but soft old gold -- a giant change, but in keeping with the way it had been. We checked out the menus -- plural because the *new* Sazerac will be open for breakfast and lunch as well as dinner -- and were pleased both with the selections and the prices. Yes, it's expensive, but by no means the most expensive place to eat in the city (below Restaurant August, for example). Wedding anniversary in October, anyone?
The Art Deco delights of the Sazerac Bar were still there -- the ribbed lights along the bar, the mirrored bar back, the stylized murals, the rounded booths, the warm wood paneling in the bar's lobby area. The bartenders still wear the pressed and starched white coats. The only thing I could see missing were the giant silver trophies that used to ornament the bar. The noise level rose to din level as old-time New Orleanians (some the folks in there simply reeked of Uptown and old money) partied and drank and visited each other's booths and tables, exclaiming over the renovation details. We overtipped like crazy as part of the celebration.
We checked out the new Roosevelt Gift Shop (in the same location as the old Jack Sutton's), and were impressed with the stuff and the prices, which were not outrageous, just upscale. Big Man fell totally in love with the new hotel bathrobes, glaringly white, the Roosevelt monogram logo over the breast, the inside plush absorbent terry cloth and the outside an incredibly silky microfiber, for about $85, which is not at all bad for luxury hotel bathrobes (I believe the ones at the W Hotel are $125). There were New Orleans-themed items and hotel logo items and Mardi Gras items, and then the usual overpriced refreshments that all hotel shops carry. (There was also Zapp's Voodoo chips, which are the absolute best and will hopefully turn lots of visitors into Zapp's fans. It's definitely our favorite -- how can you not love Zapp's chips that have everything on them??)
The biggest changes I noted were that the men's room had been relocated from up the marble stairs over to between the Blue Room (still locked up, unfortunately) and what used to be the bar next door, and that that bar had been changed into a coffee and pastry and gelato bar with a flat-screen TV in one corner, faced with comfortable seating. The former bar had been been kept dark at all hours of the day, perfect for assignations, and had featured a murky mural on the back wall (I think the walls were painted dark navy blue or even black). It was a little disorienting to find it so bright and light and cream-colored, the old mural covered by cream and dark-cream patterned wallpaper, the light bright and clean, to better showcase the work-of-art pastries on display (heaven preserve me!). They had kept the tradition of having some seating in the lobby. We sat there and struck up a conversation with an Essence visitor (of course I suggested he and his friends go to hear Big Man play on Bourbon Street!).
As we strolled the lobby, marveling and admiring, we were surrounded by other New Orleanians doing the same thing. After Big Man left, I spoke briefly to a couple who were scorning the fancy-shmancy French sculpture clock now at the University Street entrance (not yet in use). The woman and I agreed that this Christmas the new owners HAD to decorate the lobby with the traditional angel-hair decorations, or, as the woman said to me, "We'll have to bring in angel-hair ourselves." Of course I agreed with her.
The return -- the rebirth -- of the Roosevelt Hotel is a very good thing for New Orleans and a wonderful thing for me and my family. Another milestone since Katrina, another sign of our recovery. This is a good thing, a very good thing indeed.
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