[title type="h5"]Friday, February 6, 2015.
When I'm Sixty-Four. Dinner Trouble, But Not At Keith Young's.[/title]
The high point of my day occurs when my cellphone alerts me that my sister Lynn is calling. She launches immediately into a singing of the anachronistic but popular song from the Beatles Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club album, "When I'm Sixty-Four." I start singing along with her as I walk down the Poydras Street. Any other time of the year, this would have been regarded as weird, but most of people shoring the sidewalk are here for Carnival. During Mardi Gras everyone gets a pass for acting funny.
Sgt. Pepper and that song hit me in the prime of my pop-music life. I was sixteen, and to me the Beatles walked on water. I know it by heart, not only from its being on the radio then, but also because it was in the repertoire of the New Orleans Barbershop Chorus, of which I was a longtime member.
It doesn't occur to me for a few moments that a new meaning has enrobed the song. Today, I am sixty-four. I wonder how it is that I missed that little detail until now. I always regarded the song as a caricature of doddering, hopelessly old people. But now here I am, undeniably one of them.
I would have enjoyed Lynn's call more had I not found my dinner plans aborted a few minutes before. The Marys were to join me for dinner at Arnaud's, to which I greatly looked forward. But when I struck out on the ten-block walk from the office to Arnaud's, I was surprised to see the trailers and kiosks and carts set up for a parade crowd on St. Charles Avenue. There's a parade tonight? Two Fridays before Mardi Gras? I don't remember that happening before. I was apparently not paying attention.
I do not want to deal with the traffic we will face after dinner, which will also be after the parade. The streets leading back to the office (and my car, which will be blocked from leaving the garage) will be non-negotiable. Nor do I want to spend any part of my birthday on Mary Ann's relentless search for a legal parking space, which she will undoubtedly find, but only after an hour of inching around the French Quarter.
We head for Metairie and Austin's. Austin's isn't Arnaud's, but its food is in the seme Creole-French category, and there's a good pianist there who will let me sing a song or two with him. And Austin's comes right after Arnaud's in an alphabetical list of New Orleans restaurants--something only a maker of lists like me would know.
But more bad news. We are blocked from getting to Austin's by the assembly of another unexpected parade at the already-jammed intersection of Clear view and Veterans. After a lot of maneuvering, I get to Austin's to find no parking available anywhere nearby. I double-park to see what I knew I would see inside: a full house. Abort.
We cross the lake with Keith Young's Steakhouse in mind. But when I get to the other side, I find yet another surprise parade blocking LA 22. The Marys rally my spirits by saying that it's really not that much farther to take I-12 and double back to Madisonville. That's not true--we are now decidedly in wandering-around mode. But I go along.
Keith Young's is jammed, with quite a few people dining at the bar and a dozen or so waiting. Lynda Young, smiling and beautiful as she juggles the dining room tables, tells us what a great night it has been, and that it was something of a surprise. It's because I needed a table there, is why that happened.
I keep my mouth shut about our first two attempts at dinner. In no way is Keith Young's third place among the possibilities tonight. It's just the one farthest from where we started, and the only seriously great restaurant without much parade interference.
The dinner shows its usual finesse. The Marys start with gumbo, I with turtle soup. Salads. Then the Marys split a large filet mignon (candidate for best around, and winner in sheer visual beauty of a large steak). I have a sirloin strip on a sizzling hot plate: lustily delicious. Creme brulee with a candle stuck in the center, and a singing by the waiters and others of the familiar birthday song.
[title type="h5"]Keith Young's Steak House. Madisonville: 165 LA 21. 985-845-9940.[/title]
