Winter wonderland New Orleans-style

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It was a long line, mostly kids, a few teenage couples and me.

There was something ridiculously absurd about the proposition of ice skating in New Orleans I found utterly appealing.

Even now in December, there is heat and humidity and the temperature was nearly 80 on Friday when I paid my $25 for NOLA ChristmasFest.

The convention center venue is airplane-hanger large and the event is aimed at families so kids can ride the amusement park rides - including a Ferris wheel - play yule-tide miniature golf and visit with Santa in the days before Christmas.

There is a certain amount of fraud in a convention center Christmas, but you got to give New Orleans credit for trying.

I was here in my shorts looking to see what a Cajun winter wonderland looked like.

In world of wild Mardi Gas floats, It is not surprising that Christmas is a little over the top. There are lights, giant candy canes, a flying sled with eight not-so-tiny reindeer and a large Polar Express train.

I had to check the map to find the skating rink.

What I saw first was an old-fashioned West Mountain-like tubing with a long line of kids.

What I saw next was a Zamboni.

Where in the world do you find a Zamboni in Louisiana, I wondered?

Then I wondered if anyone knew this mechanical device scraping the ice skating rink was called a Zamboni?

They even had tubing - just like at West Mountain - in New Orleans.

As I waited in line, my curiosity about whether Louisiana children actually knew how to skate, gradually turned to trepidation as I wondered if I still knew how to skate. I considered my age - now 67 - and whether coasting around slippery ice on two thin blades of metal might call my own mental acuity into question.

Neither my brother - his back was bothering him - or my son - he was working - decided to witness this spectacle.

That evening, both admitted they thought I might break a hip.

I had also briefly considered that embarrassment.

As we were ushered to the rink, the kids rushed to the counter to get their skates while I hung back. The skates were hockey skates - no toe picks - and had snaps rather than the miles of shoelaces I was used to from my youth.

As background, I am not a novice to skating. I grew up in Connecticut with a pond in our backyard where I played hockey. As recently as 20 years ago, I took my son skating at Fire Road on Sundays and one memorable summer day went skating in my shorts when there was a hockey camp at the Civic Center.

As I prepared to enter the rink, it was clear Louisiana kids were mostly novices as a long line of kids - some with parents - clung to the sideboard for dear life while occasionally shuffling their feet.

"More room on the ice for me," I thought.

As I stepped out onto the ice, I noticed the freshly groomed ice was really slippery.

I grabbed the sideboard and got in line behind the kids, shuffling my feet, clinging to the sideboard and unable to get a feel for the ice.

I had forgotten how to ice skate.

I set a goal of shuffling once around the rink and leaving while my dignity was intact.

I made it, then continued.

On my second trip, I ventured a foot or so away from the sideboards only to quickly lurch back to it as a struggled to maintain my balance. This went on for a couple more laps.

After nearly falling over backward, I remembered I needed to lean forward. And with the lean, I felt my right leg push out to the side, followed by by left and I was suddenly skating again.

Slowly, at first, then gradually a little faster and with more confidence.

And I began to smile.

I started to laugh.

I felt like a kid again.

I had left my phone inside my sneakers rink-side - if I did fall I didn't want to smash my phone - so I retrieved it and skated over to a smiling mom on the other side of the boards.

"Will you take my picture?" I asked. "I'm too old to be doing this and I want to make sure everyone believes me when I tell them about it."

After all these years, I felt like a kid again experiencing a New Orleans winter wonderland.

She smiled, took the camera and said "You're doing great" as I slid into position and for some reason raised my arms over my head as if I had just conquered the world.

I returned the phone off ice - I didn't want to be cocky - then went back to skating. Within minutes, I heard the unmistakable intro to Bruce Springsteen's "Santa Claus is Coming to Town."

I was smiling.

I was laughing.

And there may have even been a few tears of joy.

After a few more minutes I began zigging and zagging around the amateur kids and clumsy teenagers and I noticed something else.

There was not another person on the ice with gray hair.

And while I wasn't as good as the girl in the figure skating dress doing spins, I was holding my own, gliding, coasting, smiling.

Over on the side, there was a young woman dressed as a snow princess.

She waved at me.

Ok, she was waving at everyone.

And I waved back.

I was out there about 45 minutes when it started to snow from the roof of the convention center.

Yeah, it was fake snow, but gosh darn it, it was magical.

As I walked out the front door of the convention center, I was hit by the heat and humidity of an 8-=degree afternoon and I thought, "Man, New Orleans really knows how to do winter."

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`A Complete Unknown'

I've never been a big Bob Dylan fan and I didn't know a lot about his life and career, but I found the new bioptic about his early career as a folksinger in Greenwich Village fascinating.

Timothee Chalamet is outstanding as Dylan while exploring a gritty New York City counter culture scene.

Even if you don't like Dylan's music, the film is worth a look. It was one of the most entertaining movies I've seen in sometime. I suspect Chalamet will be winning some awards for it.

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Fred Smith and his wife especially liked the Christmas nutcrackers on display at the Chapman Museum.

Loving decorations

Fred Smith, a reader of this newsletter, recently visited the Chapman Museum to check out the holiday decorations. This is what he had to say:

"I think you'll be pleased to know that my wife and I toured the Chapman Museum this afternoon. We didn't have a lot of time before closing so we focused our attention on the Christmas decorations. They were plentiful and just as good as you have been saying.

"The part we liked best was the display of nutcrackers. Both the ones from A Christmas Carol and those representing the different countries were most enjoyable both to figure out and then to admire. I think that Gillian would have been pleased. too."

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Tough business

It is no secret the newspaper business is going through hard times. That means being a newspaper editor is a tough job these days.

I'm extremely proud that I spent 21 years as editor of The Post-Star - 32 years there total - and survived six different publishers. I often tell people that was my greatest accomplishment.

Since Bob Condon left as city editor, the newspaper has had two different managing editors. The last one was only there a month or so. Lee Enterprises is currently advertising for a new editor on its website.

Here is a link to the job description if you know some one:

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Battlefield Park

As part of its "Conversations with the Past," the Chapman Museum will hold a program about the future of the Lake George Battlefield Park Alliance on Wednesday, Jan. 15 at

7 p.m.

While the event is free, the Chapman does ask you to register for the event at 518 793-2826.

John DiNuzzo, the president of the Lake George Battlefield Park Alliance, and Margy Mannix, the Lake George town historian, will be the featured speakers.

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Maury quote

While doing his historical research, former Post-Star reporter and book author Maury Thompson often shares with me little nuggets he finds interesting.

Considering the stand The Post-Star took on underage drinking years ago, I'm guessing this is why Maury thought about me when he saw this quote from the Graphite correspondent to The Post-Star on Feb. 19, 1925:

"All the people in this section are very glad of the stand The Post-Star has taken against the bootleggers. As we live on the bootleg trail, we know something about the dirty business they are engaged in."

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Ken Tingley spent more than four decades working in small community newspapers in upstate New York. Since retirement in 2020 he has written three books and is currently adapting his second book "The Last American Newspaper" into a play. He currently lives in Queensbury, N.Y.