Day in the Life of the COVID Quarter - Part 4

FQJ's Hunkering Down blog

St. Ann street on Jackson Square, a block from Frank's apartment, photo by Ellis Anderson

Fourth in the series of daily diary entries by French Quarter writer/historian Frank Perez, this piece covers unfortunate hair-cuts, making groceries, and graffiti scrubbing. 
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- by Frank Perez

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Tuesday, April 14, 2020
5:20 am

Rise, and if not shine, at least get moving.  Brushing my teeth I make a note to myself to wear a hat if I go outside.  I resolve to never again attempt to cut my own hair.  The front and sides are okay but last night’s experiment left the back pretty mauled.  How do I know?  Chris burst into laughter when he saw it.  Rupee didn’t judge, though.

Breakfast is homemade Satsuma preserves (thanks, Guy and Mike!) on a toasted bagel.  I’m eating on the balcony and it’s chilly, but that makes the coffee even better.  Not a sign of life on the streets below.

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5:45 am

After checking email (still no word from the Small Business Administration), I turn to the Stewart Butler manuscript.  Today’s task: revising the chapter on Stewart’s crusade for trans rights.  Stewart took up that cause long before it was fashionable.  

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8:00 am

Grocery run.  I haven’t been to Rouses in almost a week and supplies are running low.  Walking past St. Anthony’s Garden, I notice across the street a boarded up window with a spray-painted message: “Jesus is the cure.”

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In addition to annoying me, this gives me pause and I turn to the garden.  There, a few feet away from Touchdown Jesus is an obelisk that was created as a memorial to Yellow Fever victims.  Originally, that obelisk was at the mouth of the river where all incoming ships were stopped and inspected.  Those who had the fever were quarantined at La Balize.

Inside the store are some familiar faces.  There is Robert, who is always affable, checking the shelves.  At produce I run into Wayne, who lives a few blocks away.  Wayne is the Curator of Costumes and Textiles as well as the Carnival Collection for the Louisiana State Museum.  He also serves on the Board of the LGBT+ Archives Project.  

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Robert stocking shelves at Rouse's.

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​After a quick greeting, sufficiently socially distanced and through masks, I make my way to the deli.  My order—Swiss Cheese and ham—takes a backseat to the three workers’ conversation, but I don’t mind.  Listening to their gossip is the most social interaction I’ll have all day.  One of them is not wearing a mask and I think of Jesus being the cure.  Then it occurs to me the ham and cheese will be thoroughly cooked.  Chicken Cordon Bleu is on the menu tonight.

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9:11 am

The street cleaner comes rumbling down St. Ann.  There is nothing really to clean and I think of Father Mackenzie in “Eleanor Rigby.”   Writing.

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11:45 am

Lunch is leftovers, shrimp etouffee.  Outside the streets are still eerily empty, save the occasional Quarter Rat walking by. COVID Quarter Rats come in two basic varieties:

1) Those on a mission.  These people include joggers, grocery shoppers, dog walkers, and workers. 
 
2) The homeless and mentally disturbed.  Some of these people shuffle around aimlessly in a daze talking to themselves, perhaps blissfully unaware the world has come to a stop.

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12:00 pm

I’m in a writing flow, detailing a protest and picket-line Stewart once organized outside the local HRC’s annual gala dinner over their refusal to include trans people in their mission statement when the phone rings.  It’s a woman from the Canadian Pharmacy trying to sell me pet meds for my dog.  I tell her Jesus is the cure and hang up.

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3:18 pm

Walk the dog and drop off a letter at the Postal Emporium.  Leaving my building, I notice more graffiti on the huge piece of plywood covering the soap hawker’s window.  “Seek spiritual cleanliness,” it says.

On my way back, I get a paintbrush from my friend Jeff so I can erase the inane message.  Seeing Jeff on his stoop was nice.  In pre-COVID times, Jeff would have been holding court behind the bar at Lafitte’s.

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4:30 pm

I should be preparing for the class I normally teach on Tuesday Nights at Loyola, French Quarter History.  This would have been class number seven, focusing on the neighborhood’s LGBT+ history.  There might not be a Quarter today if it weren’t for gay men 100 years ago.

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6:00 pm

Start pounding the chicken.  I don’t have a mallet, so I use a rolling pin.  With every blow, I think of the politicians I would crawl over glass to vote out of office.  Once sufficiently flattened, I lay the ham and cheese down and begin rolling.  Egg wash and breading and the rolled breasts are ready to cook.  Once done, they are topped with a creamy Bechamel sauce and fresh parsley.  

​As Cervantes wrote, “Our sorrows are less with bread.”

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Earlier Entries by Frank

Hunkering Down Home

FQJ Home

Frank Perez serves as President of the LGBT+ Archives Project of Louisiana and has authored four books on New Orleans history and teaches part-time at Loyola University. He is also a licensed tour-guide. He and his partner live in the French Quarter.

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