Life is sweet as a cool day late in Spring. Squalor Height's air conditioner sits inexpensively quiet behind a little locker door under tall dormer windows. Forget bozo conservation advice from Dick Cheney - the guy pushing the apple cart is not going to tell you to eat fewer apples. Throw open your windows and smell those magnolia trees. Turn off the switch. Pass 'round that jeroboam of medicinal red.

Faubourg Marigny's House Tour 2001 opened to one of those blue Sunday mornings more better than the Pope or a television talking head could conjure. For the Tour, I sat trying not to scare off tourists at a table in front of photographer Richard Sexton's rue Dauphine studio (Gardens of New Orleans, Exquisite Excess, Chronicle Books, with text by Lake Douglas and Jeannette Hardy). A Nice way to visit the neighborhood and see its talented residents. Elizabeth Shannon (artist), David Berman (mathematician) and Steve Halpern (investor) also sold tickets and answered questions at San Francisco immigrant Sexton's renovated cottage.

Doing greetings around the Dauphine bend, at the home of Angela and Russ Carll, was former District-C council member Jackie Clarkson. Clarkson is presently State Representative, D-Algiers. The Carll's were away leaving their greetings to the candy red-lipped Clarkson.

"I'm making my way back to City Council, if the voters want me." she said sizing up a few voters in the crowd. (Yes, sugar, Faubourg Marigny is in District-C.)

Weeks earlier, under a shady tent on Nelson Savoie's Esplanade Avenue lawn near the Race Track, we learned Savoie also intends to run for District-C's seat. His announcement party was an old fashioned crayfish boil with groaning tables, all kinds of people, two kinds of beer - one of them was Dixie and the other was not. And live music! It was on the first Saturday of Jazzfest, allowing for a glorious opportunity to look over the fence and watch envious eyes peering back while on their way to pay for what we were obviously getting for free.

Regularly, flocks of college youths on foot and bicycle stopped to behold our joie de vie. Occasionally, one or two strolled through the Savoie gate and liberated a Dixie for the greater glory of youth, Spring, jazz and politicians.

Popular current District-C council member Troy Carter is out of the job. He is caught between former council member Peggy Wilson's term-limits rock and the hard place of a run for the Mayor's office. A 'hard place' currently occupied by Savoie's boss and Carter's long time friend, second-term D-Mayor Mark Morial, who is trying an end-run around term-limitations. You may have noticed The Wall Street Journal editorializing against His Honor's effort. What does The Wall Street Journal care about le Big Swamp City - other than carving it up and selling it?

Incidentally, R-Peggy Wilson herself is said to be pondering another end-run around her term-limit law. (The Wall Street Journal has yet to take a stand on this.)

Pass me that big red wine bottle, Norma; I need something to wash all this down.

Marda Burton, the salon slinging writer and muse who throws splendid literary parties in her second story rue Royal rooms, recently hosted the music of Norwegian pianist Elise Einarsdotter accompanying Brazilian guitarist, harmonicaist and vocalist Riccardo Crespo. Crespo plays regularly around town, Einarsdotter was here to play Jazzfest.

Burton is off to Summer in mountainous North Carolina. "First Jordan," she says waving a fluted Champaign glass, "because of the archaeology, history, sites, etc. Take photos. Follow in the footsteps of Lawrence of Arabia. In short, a feature story for Veranda Magazine."

A fine Spring, indeed, with flowing Champaign, Dixie Beer, redolent cheeses, smoked turkey, boiled crabs and crayfish with new potatoes and sweet corn. Fine parties, with political hail-fellows and elegant folks just in from some important thing and soon off to another.

Here is an elegant thing, if you venture out again between now and December. Stop at nearby-faraway French Quarter's Historic New Orleans Collection for guest curator Lake Douglas' exhibition, "In Search of Yesterday's Gardens, Landscapes of 19th-Century New Orleans." Gaze long into the oval center of the early Swamp Settlement (1726) sketch hanging inside the first gallery and see wooden houses trailing off into shacks and lean-tos. Which is how it must have been when New Orleans was a Little Swamp City etched along the edge of a vast swamp, with neither term limits nor air-conditioning.

(Yes, Douglas is the same Lake Douglas mentioned earlier.)

One last flickering light from the once Golden West. This e-mail arrived from California advising, "In protest of poor energy policies and a lack of emphasis on efficiency, conservation and alternative fuels, there will be a voluntary rolling blackout on the first day of Summer, June 21, from 7 p.m. to 10 p.m., in any time zone (this will roll it across the planet).

"It's a simple protest and a symbolic act. Turn out your lights. Unplug whatever you can unplug. Light a candle to the Sungod. Kiss and tell. Make love. Tell ghost stories. Do something instead of watching television. Have fun in the dark." Upset Dick Cheney's apple cart.