I get a good review!

This came in today’s email:

Dear Mr. Dawes,

Spoke to [name deleted] this afternoon and she gave me your cell # - no answer, but will try again. We spoke yesterday near the cathedral. As you may have recognized late yesterday as you passed on Dumaine, I often observe carriages and the degree of help and information the host provides. You are at the top for courtesy, knowledge and informative chatter that I see from our gallery and on the street.

Been coming here almost 40 years and never a carriage ride. You give me incentive to finally take a real French Quarter tour. Will be in touch.

[name deleted]

This man waved down my buggy when we were paused at the Cabildo (for two minutes on the Louisiana Purchase) and asked for a business card. He then told my guests that they have the best guide in the Quarter, and he wants to take the whole tour. I said thank you, I’d be happy to give him a tour, and we moved on. The guests laughed and asked if I paid the guy!

So, it looks like I have a potential passenger! But tour guides yell stuff like this at each other all the time.

I'm blessed with a bellowing baritone voice that can control a crowd, and I deliver my lines to all in earshot, whenever I can get away with it. Sometimes it earns me a fare.

Here's a line I feel free to shout across the street when things are slow in the morning:

Hey, y'all come over here and get a fascinating buggy ride! All our mules are strong and good looking, and all our guides are above average!

Mules in my family history.

Public works are in the news today: Obama Pledges Public Works on a Vast Scale. My dad was in the CCC, as a commisioned officer and company commander. He knew how to plow with mules and drive a wagon.

Mules have touched my family history several times.

In 1903, my grandmother Momma Kay became a 16-year-old single mother when a mule kicked her first husband Adolphus Cecil in the head. Three years later she married Harvey McKay and bore 12 children, of which my mother Addie was the oldest.

During the last great depression, Dad was living on a farm in Cajun country. He could rent his mule team out for more money than a man could earn... and fed his wife and three kids.

When I was a teen in the late 1940’s, my dad bought a depression-era project farm in Cajun country. We had a saddle horse and powerful plow mule, Sarah. We used her to snake discarded cross ties from the railrod right-of-way for recycling as fence posts. She seemed capable of pulling any weight, as long as she was pulling in the direction of the barn. We kids rode her bareback, very slowly. Dad rented her out for $5 a day to stretch telephone and telegraph wires. It was apparently faster than using a manual block and tackle.

My dad bought home a little donkey, a Mexican burro. We also had goats, pigs, a dairy cow, and 10 to 20 head of beef, along with chickens, ducks, guinea fowl, dogs and cats. 'Hey Burro' was a stoic and gentle creature, at least with children. But all the livestock... horses, the mule, even the huge Brangus bull accepted her as queen of the yard. At a feed bucket or trough, she would trot up and flick a hoof at the noses or near the eyes of the competition. They would blink and back up few yards to wait their turn.

My Resume

I posted a Resume suitable for a buggy driver. To view it, go to this companion blog:

French Quarter Buggy Tours

More time off!

I've been missing the time I used to spend doing Web work and studying Wikipedia, so I've arranged to work only four days a week instead of five. I may be taking three midweek days off instead of two.

I have turned over the 'tacking up' job to one of our stable hands, Randolph. This saves me a half hour a day of work: grooming Bonnie, harnessing and hitching her to the carriage.  And giving cash tips to Randolph gets me some good suvival tips.

I'm gathering up pictures of one stop of my route using Google Maps "street view". I'm planning to build a short slide show featuring the Napoleon House, the Royal Orleans, and the Supreme Court buildings, using an audio recording from my 1/2 hour buggy tour. Click Follow this blog in the right column to get notices when things changer here.... 

How to take the ride!

Do you want to take the ride? I must turn over $60 to the company for a half hour tour. I can take one to five people... a babe in arms or a doggie in your lap doesn’t count, and one person or two very small people can ride shotgun. It works out to $12 a head for five people. I typically work Friday through Monday, perhaps on Wednesdy. I'll usually be at the Jackson Square hack stand between 9:30 and 3:30pm. It's best to call me at 504-322-4703 to set things up...

Impairments may not matter. Stepping up may be difficult on some carriages. One or two drivers can assist anyone who can climb stairs to get on board. I find it easier getting on board than lurching up from a low-slung car. Hard of hearing? Me too! I can shout the whole tour over the the background noise. And perhaps you can sit in the shotgun seat, where you won't miss a word.

If you need to get to the quarter, the Canal Streetcar is a possibility, like the lot on the river next to Jackson square. If you get dropped off by an auto, you may sit in Jackson Square, benches are about 20 yards way... or sit in my carriage until the driver parks and returns. Your driver can turn toward the river at St. Peter (Jackson Brewery) and head into the downriver lot.

I carry a camera, and will be pleased to take your pictures sitting in the carriage, feeding Bonnie a slice of carrot, or hugging her head. I will usually email it to your pictures the same evening!
I guarantee a delightful tour, covering the most important sites. Focus is on history, culture, architecture, cuisine. My stories will have you laughing, with solemn moments, as we talk about what we lost in Katrina, and sone of the joyful changes that we are experiencing.

The joys of mule driving...

Buggy driving has put me out in the weather 5 days a week, working steadily for 8 or 9 hours a day. All my little health complaints just evaporated! I have learned that at age 74, full-time work was good for me! My mule Bonnie is a sweetheart, she trusts me most of the time, and does not go out with other boys. The community of drivers is supportive of this old rookie. The artists, waiters, street sweepers, scruffy street people, and most of the law enforcement people are your typical New Orleans-loving kindred spirits.

My customers are usually tickled with my tour. I usually get rave reviews and good tips. I learned early on to purge out my Blue State wisecracks for clients who get grim with the first one -- one set of four ladies, age 20 to 25, from Ohio, who looked like debutantes, were silent throughout and gave me a $2 tip...

A slow but fun Tuesday...

Only four half-hour tours today... but great fun anyway!

Here are five of the seventeen ladies visiting from a retirement home in Algiers. We split the gang up between three carriages. Each paid $12. They clearly had a great time. Of course, I got to tell them about the pivotal role played by les gens de couleur in New Orleans.

These Canadians were thrilled by my stories about the lives of the French in early New Orleans, their contribution to our culture, and the special relation we have with modern France.

They liked Bonnie too. Bonnie likes them and just about anybody...