I really, really like New Orleans.
I was here 5 years ago, before Katrina made her presence known.
So, I was looking forward to seeing if things had changed.
Well, I’m happy to say, New Orleans is goin’ and blowin’ and doesn’t seem to have missed a beat. (Obviously, I know that’s not true, based on the nature of Hurricane Katrina’s damage, but from all appearances in the French Quarter and Jackson Square, they have recovered quite nicely.)
It’s a great city with its own style, essence. Its own flavor and feel.
And the music, oh, the music….
Everywhere you turn, there’s music.
(I predict that the young man, on the right, playing the trumpet will be the next Harry Connick, Jr. Only this kid will play the trumpet, not the piano. Nor will he be quite as cute as H.C., Jr., but still.
I should have given him my card and told him to call me. I could be his agent, even though I know zilch about being an agent. I’m tellin’ you, though, he’s gonna make it big one day.
So, in the future, when he’s all over the tv and entertaining large audiences, I’ll write a blog post with just these four words: I told you so.)
Back to New Orleans.
You can’t help but notice the art. Street art. Everywhere.
Including on bicycles.
Of course, now, you can add the Saints.
Oh, and don’t forget Mardi Gras!
…Says it all.
They’re friendly folks.
And the food?
Oh. My. Goodness. Gracious. Sake’s. Alive. It’s crazy good.
Like Barbequed Oysters at Red Fish Grill…
There’s really no other city like it.
But, while I’m enjoying extolling the unique and wonderful characteristics of the Big Easy, I must admit, there’s a little weirdness goin’ on in that place…
My son was strangely attracted to what he thought was a cute, little puppy dog.
Um. I mean, really?