A little sequence of events for you, or perhaps me, to explain/justify why Im at an IHOP at 5am on a Monday morning in New Orleans. Leave Baton Rouge around 2pm yesterday after an emotional experience on the USS KIDD (seriously, dont get ME started, but thank a Veteran today!). I do a little math and decide Ill get an early dinner in New Orleans. I drive on I-10E amazed at the infrastructure, seriously bridge driving the whole way. I see a swamp (my first, Henderson Swamp) I snap a picture (ya gotta do it) and start to recall that the kids and I were in New York City when Hurricane Katrina hit and at the time, truly didnt understand the devastation - and although I consider it a huge failure of the Bush Administration that it took 5 days for FEMA to get water to the Super Dome....I kinda understand now some of the logistical challenges with this water everywhere. Im still nostalgic for the ship experience and now Katrina, get to the hotel, get Reeses settled and post my short essay on freedom at 6pm. Im. Starving. I begin to challenge myself about the Cowboys versus Saints game. Living 3 years in Texas....you become a fan. However, when in Rome...I decide to go to the French Quarter to EAT and watch the game. To anyone that hasnt been to the French Quarter, they arent so much about eating....more about drinking...even though its a Sunday night and a huge football game is taking place. I take my first French Quarter pic and Mr. Dreds photo bombs me. My first new friend. I walk down to a street market of such and meet new friends from all over the country in town for The Big Lebowski Fest (who knew?!?!). We talked for a long time and they take my pic on this ah-ma-zing light up furniture and I make new friends with Walter the John Goodman character now known to me as Marcus Bautista and we discuss our shared love of another Walt character in Breaking Bad. Love these people, but Im still starving and curious about the football game. I stumble across The Hex and new friend/psychic Denise LaToya Mouton blesses my new customized Mojo Bag to find Mr. Right and not Mr. Right Now. I walked to the first place that had the game on and met my new duck faced friends - am immediately a Saints fan and we Dapper Daan chant our toast a few times, Saints win big, the French Quarter is NOW celebrating and I decide I am not a duck, need to find car and get to Hotel (maybe 1am?) GO TO SLEEP. 4am head pounding wake up call...damn, Im STILL hungry, which now lands me at IHOP. A HALF OF A DAY in New Orleans~Awesome~but reminder to self: I am not a duck.
Posted on: Mon, 11 Nov 2013 13:00:32 +0000
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