My favorite kind of trip to New Orleans

Broadmoor Bureau Chief

My favorite kind of trip to New Orleans is to go by myself, leave the house at the time I want to leave, go to the places I want to go and take my sweet old time at those places.

I’ve done this hundreds of times since I was in my late teens and my latest trip started at 2:20 p.m. from my home in Gulfport on  Saturday for the Magazine Street Champagne Stroll and Independent Bookstore Day, but I had other reasons to make the trip.

First stop:  The new Shipley Do-Nuts on Old Metairie Road in Old Metairie for vanilla cream- and chocolate-filled doughnuts that were as delicious as the ones I remember from the 1970s when I would go to the Shipley at Hewes Avenue and Pass Road in Gulfport, and I miss those visits because that Shipley has been history for a long time.

Second stop: Stein’s in the Lower Garden District on Magazine Street for the best challah around, as good as what my dad made at home, though I had to park two blocks from the deli and market because the lease for the Stein’s parking lot, above, was terminated April 30.

Third stop: Octavia Books on Octavia Street off Magazine to buy a signed copy of Ann Patchett’s little gem titled “The Care and Feeding of an Independent Bookstore,” and I saw so much more I wanted to buy, including Simon Griffin’s punctuation guide with a dirty word in the hilarious title.

Fourth stop: Antieau Gallery on Magazine, which features the work of artist Chris Roberts-Antieau, with beer for the Stroll.

Fifth stop: Young classical musicians were playing in front of a store just 350 feet down the street from the gallery. Never found out if they took requests, though I think they accepted tips. One possible request for next time: “How about a little ‘Eleanor Rigby’ for the all Catholic drinkers?”

Sixth stop: I completed my trifecta of daily dough with a bag of bagels at  La Boulangerie, a Magazine Street bakery, so I put it in my car with the doughnuts and challah.

Seventh stop: I think this pretty horse on Oak Street wanted to talk. We could have had a conversation.  I know drunks on Bourbon Street have had horse hallucinations, but I was sober and so was this creature.

Eighth stop: Surfin’ and turfin’ at Parkway Bakery and Tavern on Hagan Avenue with the best po-boy anywhere: Roast beef and fried shrimp.

I didn’t mean to offend my family and friends when I wrote the lead to this fine piece of quality journalism. They are always welcome to make a New Orleans trip with me, but just remember we will go to my places first and we might not have to go to your places.

Like Kramer said on “Seinfeld”:

I’m doin‘ what I do, the way I’ve always done it, and the way I’ll always do it.

Editor’s note: All the photos are mine and all were taken Saturday except for the featured image, which is from 2017.





This female basset is straight outta Broadmoor

Broadmoor Bureau Chief

Tilly is a European basset hound straight outta Broadmoor, the Gulfport, Miss., neighborhood where she has lived with us since August 2013.

She was born in Cleveland, Tenn., and will turn 5 years old next month.

This blog is named after her, a play on The Who song “Pictures of Lily,” but in the months I’ve been writing on the site, I’ve never had a post with nine pictures of Tilly until now.

The “Straight Outta Broadmoor” Tilly meme comes from an online generator to help promote the 2015 film “Straight Outta Compton,” which is about the Los Angeles gangsta rap group N.W.A.

I uploaded a 2014 Tilly photo, taken in her dog run, to the “Straight Outta” meme generator to make her look gangsta, which is out of her character.

This is the photo I used.

It looks like she was in attack-dog training, but it was her way of playing.

She has lots of energy, though her image is quite the opposite because of photos showing her sleeping or just resting on a leather couch in the back room of the house. It’s not our couch. It’s Tilly’s couch, and it has her own bed and covers.

The couch is for her daytime sleeping. Next to the couch is her crate for sleeping at night. Sometimes she chooses to watch the Hallmark Channel from either spot, but most of her time is spent stretched out on the couch.

April 14, 2018 at 3 p.m.

April 11, 2018 at 12:30 p.m.

June 21, 2017 at 6 p.m.

April 4, 2017 at 5 p.m.

Nov. 7, 2016 at 5 p.m.

Jan. 21, 2015 at 3 p.m.

Jan. 24, 2014 at 2 p.m.

If it weren’t for Patty, my wife, we wouldn’t have Tilly.  Patty loves bassets.

She got a basset named Molly for our daughter, Kristin, in 1989. Molly was a Christmas present for Kristin, who was 8 years old at the time, and Kristin was in college when Molly passed away in 2002.

Ever since, Patty wanted another basset and it took more than 10 years for that to happen.

Patty does everything for Tilly and that includes trips to the vet in Biloxi, trips to the vet in Mandeville, La., and an occasional trip to Dairy Queen in Gulfport for a vanilla ice cream cone.

I’ve got a feeling a cone will be Tilly’s birthday present.


Make old Gulfport VA like Perkins Rowe in Baton Rouge

Broadmoor Bureau Chief

I thought of the old Gulfport VA property last week when I made a day trip to Baton Rouge, with Perkins Rowe my last stop before I went back home.

Perkins Rowe is a mixed-used development that the old Gulfport VA, now Centennial Plaza, should become.

I’d like the beachfront area on Highway 90 to become the best Coast hub for shopping, dining and movies once the Holiday Inn Resort, Centennial Plaza’s first major anchor tenant, becomes reality on the site that was a Veterans Administration medical center until it was shut down in 2005 because of Hurricane Katrina.

Ten historic Spanish Colonial Revival buildings, half going back to the 1920s, remain and two of them will become part of the Holiday Inn Resort.

Once the hotel is complete, developers should bring some Perkins Rowe flair to Centennial Plaza.

Here’s what I saw at Perkins Rowe and all these fine examples of quality photo journalism are mine.

Quite a landmark

Starbucks inside spacious B&N

Better looking than your Gulfport Cinemark

Lit well




The trip to Baton Rouge was my first since 1993, and if Centennial Plaza never becomes the Perkins Rowe of the Coast, I will know where to stop the next time I’m in Red Stick.

And I won’t wait another 25 years to go back.

Last week, I also made two stops on Government Street, which is north of Perkins Rowe and reminds me of Midtown Memphis.

One of the Government Street stops was for a cheeseburger, fries and root beer.


The other stop was to scout an old pizza joint.

Fleur de Lis Cocktail Lounge

I didn’t go inside Fleur de Lis, also known as The Pink Palace of Roman Pie, because I was on my way to Curbside, but now I can’t wait to try the pizza.

It’s been three weeks since my last pizza, so I’m revving up plans for the next Baton Rouge trip.


In retirement, print work is a nightmare


Broadmoor Bureau Chief

I’ve been retired from my Sun Herald newspaper job in Gulfport, Miss., for more than a year, but I have work-related anxiety every night resulting from dreams of things going wrong at press time.

Some have to do with my computer locking up right before deadline in my work as a slot editor. Others are about page design in which I can never find an image to run with a story after hours of wasted searching.

Because of this, my teeth grind and my nerves wrack.  And once I sense calm, the feeling goes away. I hear an uptight editor yell at me to “SEND THE DAMN PAGE,” even though I’m dreaming that we have more than two hours before the presses start.

The bane of a sportswriter's existence in the 1980s. FLICKR
The bane of a sportswriter’s existence in the 1980s. FLICKR

I also have stressful dreams about covering sports, which I did for many years before moving to the editing side, and the sports dreams are about using a second-hand 20th-century Teleram Portabubble to transmit stories from  football, basketball and baseball games to my office during the 21st century.

The Portabubble was a portable computer and it haunts me more than 30 years after I last used one. I’m now jealous of sportswriters who have the pleasure of just emailing their stories.

The keyboard on a Portabubble was used to type a story and once the story was complete, a classic telephone handset was placed into acoustic couplers for delivery to the sports desk.

Sounds easy, but it wasn’t. I once shoved a handset so hard into the couplers that I might have damaged the Portabubble. All but the keys and the tiny screen were useless. The story would not bubble in unless I could reach a Teleram tech.

Good luck with that because it was 10:30 on a Wednesday night  in 1983 in the South Mississippi mini-metroplex of Wade-Hurley.

I ended up having to dictate my story to the frustration of the guy receiving the dictation.

A colleague the previous week also had to dictate because of a technical problem and then faced the embarrassment  of being summoned to the editor’s office two days later for a Portabubble demonstration.  The editor wanted to see what the sportswriter did wrong, but keep in mind the editor himself didn’t know how to use it. His point was to make the sportswriter look bad and feel worse.

Can’t blame the boss for expecting nothing but successful results from his investment, but the thing looked like it came from a pawn shop on Highway 49.

Somebody on eBay is trying to sell a Portabubble print ad right now for the ridiculous price of $14.95 plus shipping, but that may sound like a bargain to you if you’re nostalgic for pieces of crap.

My latest dream was about a night in which I went to distribution, on the first floor in back of the plant, to check the paper in my role as the slot editor. Copies of the paper roll into distribution from the second-floor pressroom starting at midnight and copies are gathered for carriers to bring to readers.

I check the paper for spelling in headlines, captions and other display type, and I end up missing a headline bust.

A pressroom guy ignores me about it, goes right to a distribution guy who knows nothing about editing and the pressroom guy tells the distribution guy, “Hey, there’s a misspelled headline. It’s supposed to be Ohio, not Ohi. Go ahead and fix that.”

Hey! WTH!

I go to the press guy and tell him, “That’s not distribution’s job. That’s my job. If you have any problems with headlines, you come to me and I’ll take care of them. I’m going to fix Ohi right now.”

I go back to my desk in the newsroom and get ready to use my computer to make the fix, but it turns out that my computer is frozen. It stays that way for 30 minutes, which is a lifetime when the pressroom is waiting for a remake.

Once my computer is unlocked, I make the correction and call the pressroom, and the press guy tells me, “We already have it. Distribution took care of it 25 minutes ago.”


There is a bright side to this tale: I don’t have to go to work today, tomorrow, next week or even next year.

The dark side? The next workplace nightmare is coming around 3 a.m.



Coast doughnut shops grow to more than 2 dozen

The new Ana's Donuts is at the corner of Pass Road and Washington Avenue in Gulfport. JOHN E. BIALAS

Broadmoor Bureau Chief

The list of doughnut shops on the Mississippi Coast has grown to 30 and one of the newest is the soon-to-open Dunkin’ on Highway 49 in Gulfport.

But I don’t care about Dunkin’. I prefer Ana’s Donuts, the new place at the corner of Pass Road and Washington Avenue in Gulfport.

I like Ana’s, whose neighbors are Domino’s and Cajun’s, even though I’ve made just one visit so far.

Ana’s is in an old building that has been the home of numerous businesses, and one of the most forgettable was Liberty Pizza many years ago. The doughnuts at Ana’s are far superior to the pizza that Liberty served in its brief time at one of the city’s busiest corners.

When I went to Ana’s, I got apple fritter bites, which are bigger than your regular bites. I got three and the third one was free. All were very good and I would like to get more.

I also picked up a menu and part of it is reproduced right here just for you.

The menu at Ana's Donuts includes Bavarian cream-filled doughnuts, Boston cream doughnuts and Bavarian cream doughnut holes. JOHN E. BIALAS
The menu at Ana’s Donuts includes Bavarian cream-filled doughnuts, Boston cream doughnuts and Bavarian cream doughnut holes. JOHN E. BIALAS

I think Ana’s could become my second go-to doughnut place right behind Daylight Donuts on Pass Road near 25th Avenue in Gulfport. Daylight is a family favorite, so much so that we stopped at a Daylight in the downtown of a small Colorado town last summer while we were on vacation. It reminded us of home as we ate our share of glazed twists and drank chocolate milk.

I’ve come up with a list of other Coast doughnut shops, and if I have made an omission, left me know ASAP.


Dunkin’ at the corner of Pass Road and Eisenhower Drive.

Dunkin’ at Cedar Lake Road.

Dunkin’ at Hard Rock Hotel.

Fantasy Donuts on Pass Road.

Angkor Donuts on Shriners Boulevard.

Electrik Maid on Pass Road.


Glazed Donuts on Sangani Boulevard (the Boulevard of Dreams).


Krispy Kreme on Highway 49.

Kreamy Donuts on Broad Avenue.

Jelly Donuts and Kolaches on Highway 49.

Quality Bakery on 25th Avenue.


Long Beach Donuts on Beatline Road.

King Donuts on Klondyke Road.


Tato-Nut on Government Street.

Ocean Springs Donuts on Government.

Krispy Kreme on Bienville Boulevard.

Simply Donuts on Old Spanish Trail.


Luxury Donuts on Highway 90.

Jelly Donuts and Kolaches on Highway 90.


Delicious Donuts on 14th Street.

Anderson’s Bakery on Market Street.


Doughboy Donuts on Highway 63.

Sunshine Donuts on Highway 613.


Lou-Joe’s on Highway 57.


Grammys Donuts and More on Highway 90.


D.H. Donuts on East Aloha Drive.


Daylight Donuts on Highway 63.


I also have a Bing locator map showing the names of 10 doughnut shops that I mentioned.

If you are a dough nut like me, eat them if you got them.













The 5 saddest songs on The Captain’s Spotify

Editor’s note by John E. Bialas: The 5 saddest songs on The Captain’s Spotify is the second part in a series about his play list. The first part was published Feb. 28 and it features disco, dance and funk. Part 2 shows The Cap’s melancholy side.

Special to the Broadmoor Bureau

I can’t be the upbeat 24-hour bar-hopping guy I used to be because I’m three years away from my favorite birthday number, which is 69, and I get bombed and rejected at 66 years old more often than I did when I was 22.

The young lovelies who ignore my glances and advances mean a lot of lonely nights for me at home in Gulfport, Miss., and these are the songs on my Spotify that remind me I’m among all the lonely people.


The first song was the suggestion of Young Miami Dave, who responded to a Facebook request: What songs do you think are on The Captain’s Spotify play list?

The other picks are mine and the one stands out is “Lonesome Loser” because it reminds me of one of my worst dates.

A hippie chick went on a Little River Band date with me after I bought tickets for both of us, and even before LRB started playing the set, the girl slipped out of the auditorium with another guy.  I never saw her again.

She missed out. I would have bought her a T-shirt after the concert if she had stayed with me.

That night, I was the Lonesome Loser and when I got home, I was all by myself.

Image credit: A screen grab of Eric Carmen’s “All By Myself” on YouTube.

Getting down and dirty with The Captain’s Spotify

The Trammps perform "Disco Inferno." YOUTUBE

Editor’s note by John E. Bialas: I asked Facebook friends last week to name the songs they think are on Captain Tenacious’ Spotify play list, and I enjoyed all the selections because they fit the persona of the retired sportswriter: Most Experienced Playboy in the Western World, 1979 Disco Dancing World Finalist, 1984 Pensacola Twist Contest Winner, 1994 Mississippi Breakdancing Champion, Legend in His Own Dirty Mind and Master of the Quadruple Entendre. Today, he writes about songs on his Spotify list in this quality piece of fine journalism.

Special to the Broadmoor Bureau

I saw all the Facebook submissions and all of them fit my personality and taste in music.

All the selections are spot-on. They are always streaming on my Spotify, and anyone who knows me knows how much I love streaming if you get my drift.

Thirty-five songs were posted  on John’s Facebook and my story features 10 of them.

I am listing each pick  this way: The first name of the person who submitted the song, the song on YouTube and my comments below the video.


In 1975, the year the song came out, the ladies called me “The Hustler” for my moves on and off the dance floor.

One more from Freddie

Reminds me of the nights at the Fiesta in Biloxi, where I mixed poppers with Jacks and Cokes.


Whoa baby! Funk me!


My kicks are fast as lightning, although I’m more of a lover than a fighter.


That’s the way I like it, connotations and all.


I can relate to these words: “If morning’s echo says we’ve sinned,
it was what I wanted now.” I say this to myself lying in bed alone and thinking of a Twin Peaks girl.


This song is preparing me for my Roman and Mediterranean holiday in April, when I’ll be on my Continental Love cruise where I hope to meet the Gina Lollobrigida, the Claudia Cardinale and the Monica Vitti of my dreams.


Yep, I am a hugging and kissing fiend.


I got a gal, she lives on the block, she is kind of funky with her pink and black socks.


The ear worm I get from this song is “Stand Really Close to Me.” Close counts.

This ain’t no disco

One song that will never make my list is “Dirty Boulevard” by Lou Reed.

I remember the time I was riding in a car with a couple of other sportswriters and that song was playing. It was ear-splitting and headache-making.

I yelled, “What the hell is that crap? Change the station.”

It turns out the song was blaring from a cassette player and not the radio.

No disco! Son of a bitch!

Image credit: The Trammps perform “Disco Inferno.” This is a YouTube screen grab.

Fergie, The Captain and his ‘Star-Spangled’ tingle

Editor’s note from John E. Bialas: I found only one person who enjoyed Fergie’s national anthem this past weekend and that person is named Captain Tenacious, the lifelong Playboy of the Mississippi Coast, sportswriting legend, Biloxi Sports Hall of Famer and future Gulfport Hall of Famer. He shares his love for Fergie in this guest commentary, a fine piece of quality journalism.

Special to the Broadmoor Bureau

No matter what all the haters say, Fergie sang American history’s most coochie-coochie version of “The Star-Spangled Banner” at the NBA All-Star Game in Los Angeles on Sunday.

It was lusty. It was sultry. It was hot. Fergie was hot. She made me hot.

Forget about patriotism. It was a frisky pop-culture moment, and I wanted Fergie to be my new girlfriend.

Her hair was down and her dark dress was captivating and shoulder-baring.

Twitter people have ripped, mocked and laughed at Fergie for her jazz-inspired performance. For example:

Though I haven’t seen such a post, I can only imagine that one of the snarkers tweeted, “The rendition was so bad, it sounded like Francis Scott Off-Key wrote it.”

I tingled in appreciation of Fergie’s presentation. I bet the All-Stars tingled, too, as they heard Fergie sing.  I’m sure that’s why Draymond Green was smiling.

I’m 66 years old going on 67 in June, but Fergie made me feel like a young man again.

Photo credit: Mundo Fergabee on Instagram. I endorse Fergabee’s message.


The end of Sun Herald sports as we know it

This old newspaper box is outside the Chevron Mart at the corner of Railroad Street and Kelly Avenue in Gulfport. JOHN E. BIALAS

Broadmoor Bureau Chief

Newsroom reinvention means the end of Sun Herald sports as we know it.

I say we and maybe I just mean me, because I’m connected to the newspaper in my hometown of Gulfport, Miss.

I retired from the Sun Herald last year after a long career in which I was a sports writer, weekend sports editor, sports page designer, slot editor, copy editor and headline writer, and since March 3, 2017, I have stayed in touch with people who work there or used to work there.

Now the sports department is down to just one man, and you, dear reader, may not be aware of that.

Sports/features editor Scott Hawkins and James Jones, the paper’s longest-tenured sports writer, were laid off two weeks ago and sports writer Patrick Ochs was moved back to the news side, where he started at the Sun Herald.

That leaves Patrick Magee as the last sports writer standing.

These moves are part of McClatchy’s newsroom reinvention, McClatchy being the company that owns the Sun Herald and 30 other newspapers.

The reinvention includes a change made after I retired. Sun Herald page designers were assigned to the three regional hubs that serve all the McClatchy newspapers. The former Sun Herald designers work on pages for other papers and do it from the Gulfport office or at home.

The pressroom became history last month, with the newspaper being printed in Jackson instead of at the Gulfport plant. That change means earlier deadlines because Jackson is three hours away.

The emphasis is on digital and I like digital. I just wish I could remember the password for my subscription.

I don’t know if Magee has to take calls or read emails from digital subscribers needing password help, but I’m sure he will continue to do a fine job covering sports and I wish him all the best.

Actually, he does a fantastic job. Hell, he wrote all three stories for Wednesday’s sports front.

The picture running with this quality piece of blogging was taken outside the Chevron Mart at the corner of Railroad Street and Kelly Avenue in Gulfport on Wednesday afternoon. It must have been a good day for the Sun Herald because there were no copies inside the Chevron Mart.

I also wish Scott, James and Ochs all the best. Ochs just needs to work on improving his taste in music (Huey Lewis? Really?) and pizza (Imo’s? Yuck! ).

I’m not sure what James and Scott will do next. I have an idea for them.

They can both create the newsroom version of “Barney Miller” for Netflix.

They have years of comedic newspaper material. I can’t wait to see who might play Fish and Wojo.

Phooey on all the hype for Dong Phuong king cakes

This screen grab promotes king cake season at Dong Phuong in New Orleans. DONG PHUONG FACEBOOK PAGE

Broadmoor Bureau Chief

I’m sick and tired of reading all the craziness involving New Orleans East Vietnamese bakery Dong Phuong and its fab king cakes.

Back when the 2018 king cake season was calm, my daughter got one at a Dong Phuong off-site in Mandeville a couple of weeks ago and said it’s the best  she’s ever had.

I’m happy for her and unhappy for me.

I wanted to get one of my own on Monday so I drove from Gulfport and took scenic Old Highway 90, also known as The Jayne Mansfield Memorial Road, in hopes of getting a cream cheese king cake for $16 at 14207 Chef Menteur Highway.

I arrived at Dong Phuong at 4 p.m., walked through the front door and saw a barren bakery. Nothing. Nada. No king cakes at all. Sold out.

Son of a brioche.

I suffered in silence while taking the back roads home. Old Highway 90 runs through Lake Catherine Island, the home of fishing camps and their creative signage, and I stopped a couple of times to take pictures.

This sign on Highway 90 is just east of New Orleans East. JOHN E. BIALAS
This sign on Highway 90 is just east of New Orleans East. JOHN E. BIALAS

The fish camps are just minutes from Lake Pontchartrain, the Rigolets, Lake Borgne and the Biloxi Marsh, and the waters are loaded with redfish, trout, flounder, drum and sheepshead. I wish they would also be loaded with Dong Phuong cream cheese, cinnamon and pecan king cakes.

One of the fishing camps on Lake Catherine Island displays the logo of a New Orleans soft drink company. JOHN E. BIALAS
One of the fishing camps on Lake Catherine Island displays the logo of a New Orleans soft drink company. JOHN E. BIALAS

When I stopped to take pictures, I didn’t dilly dally because I feared a gator might cross the highway and attack me. I was right in the middle of a swamp or a bayou or what have you and I wanted to be home for dinner.

The next three days, the Dong Phuong sugar hit the fan.

I blame the James Beard Foundation. The bakery was named one of the winners of the James Beard America’s Classic awards on Jan. 18. Since then, the popularity of the Dong Phuong king cakes has skyrocketed to the point that demand has overwhelmed the business this week.

A Dong Phuong Facebook post Tuesday said, “We will no longer be taking online orders. King Cakes are now ONLY available for walk-in purchase at the Bakeshop through Lundi Gras!”

Lundi Gras is the Monday before Mardi Gras on Feb. 13.

I suppose that’s a good thing, because The New Orleans Advocate reported on Wednesday that “the bakery has even heard reports of people buying their king cakes to resell at inflated prices – essentially, king cake scalping.”

A $14 king cake was going for $60. I would like to see where that transaction went down. Venetian Isles? The 24/7 Fort Pike boat launch? Outside Mr. Bubbles on the West Bank?

On Thursday, Dong Phuong suspended deliveries to other retailers, such as the Mandeville business where my daughter bought her king cake.

Dong Phuong said on Tuesday it would stop deliveries and the news led to an entertaining thread on Reddit where 107 comments were posted.

Someone under the name DongPhuongDriver  kicked off the thread with a “PSA” that cited “multiple fist fights at locations we deliver to, and King Cake fraud with our pick up orders.”

OK, I’ve had enough.

I’ll take my business to Nonna Randazzo’s, which is just a few minutes from my daughter’s office in Covington.

Randazzo’s has excellent king cakes and tasty Mardi Gras layer cakes as well.

I’ll go there next week and get a Mardi Gras cake.

And I promise I won’t scalp it.