Where is Flair?

Moving to this classic southern city has rather quickly made me aware of an element that has long been lacking in my life and which I have not only longed for, but which I believe that I missed even when I didn't know I was missing it. The southern woman I spent the last 17 years with missed it too, but her way of describing the quality she longed for was to express her wish that I could be "more southern."

This missing element is certainly not simply a Southern characteristic, nor, for that matter, is it particularly American. Some would even suggest that it is really the antithesis of most American deportment both in personal, as well as political affairs, but that's for the other blog. The quality itself is described rather wonderfully in a song from the Broadway show, "Starting Here Starting Now" by Richard Maltby and David Shire, and I have often asked myself the question that the singer poses... "Where is Flair?"

Flair is made up of many elements, it is composed, like a great cocktail (many of which I had this weekend) of equal parts sweetness, individuality and personal strength. It is manifest in dress, carriage, individual style and, perhaps most significantly, manners.

On Saturday afternoon, I went meandering about the French Quarter on the Cocktail Tour where I discovered many things about the old French Quarter establishments that I didn't know. I was treated to a lovely tour through the many dining rooms of Antoines Restaurant, saw dozens of historical photos of the many Mardi Gras krewes that have called Antoine's home on Fat Tuesday and met the absolutely delightful, Eddy the Waiter; truly a man with Flair. After dropping by Antoine's, we proceeded down Royal Street to The Court of Two Sisters where we were instructed that if we touched the antique gates upon entering they would impart upon us an extra measure of charm. Figuring that I could always use a bit more charm, I touched those gates both coming and going. I didn't feel any different right off, but it was only a short time later that the spell actually began to work.

About an hour later on Magazine Street, during the final event of the Southern Comfort Tales of the Cocktail, I had the great good fortune to discover a sort of magical Brigadoon of male style and substance. I was instantly transported by this shop into another era of social reality that I have wanted to be a part of; a way of being that I have always yearned for but never truly adopted. When one of the employees of this marvelous emporium began to describe to me the process they follow when giving a shave, I nearly swooned with the sense of having found a luscious bloom of classic civility in the desert of modern day neanderthal behavior. I felt better simply standing in the entryway of this wonderful museum of Flair and I determined that I would return this week to experience its true gifts first hand.

On Thursday of this week, I turn 51. I have decided that one of the things this move to The Crescent City is about is the adoption of not only a new city but an entirely new way of looking at my life. I am ready to acquire some Flair of my own.

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Of course... one needs to remember in all of this that there has always been another side to all of this marvelouos southern gentility.