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JULY 8, 2006 - OH WHEN THE SAINTS, GO MARCHING IN….

Today I decided that I would stay and explore this town a bit. I began with breakfast. I know that is a difficult concept to grasp, but in New Orleans there is only ONE place to go for breakfast. That place is "Mothers". It is located in an ancient brick building that has its entrance on the side. When you walk in, the first thing that is evident is that there is absolutely no ceremony tolerated here. You get in line, you order, you pay, you wait, you get your order when one of the staff BELLOWS your name, you sit, you eat, you leave. Thank you, Thank you very much. I had just retrieved my order from the counter (NO TIPPING ALLOWED so the sign says behind the counter) when I noticed a lady having breakfast by herself. I asked if she wanted to join me, so she did. She is in town with her Firefighter boyfriend who was at a convention across the street. It turns out that she works for the Legislature here in Louisiana, so we compared notes about government work, benefits and retirement options. It turns out that within three years, she will have thirty years of service in. She says she's going to retire the second that it is feasible to do so. We talked about our kids and grandkids and who has the prettiest grandkids and oh yeah? So do I!!!
HAH!! So there! It was nice to talk to someone at a meal.

After breakfast I strolled over to the D DAY museum, located just a few blocks from the Holiday Inn that I am booked into. I spent all morning and part of the afternoon there. I was stunned at how well the displays made sense to someone who hadn't been alive at that time. Even though I am a student of World War I I history, I had never had it presented in such a logical and straightforward manner as it is at this museum. As I approached the building, I met a tall distinguished fellow, by the name of Bill Springer. He is 88 striking years old. Man, I can only hope to be as spry and as sharp as he is. He talked about flying the "Gooney Bird" in the pacific theater. He was very humorous and was able to convey his experiences with striking clarity as well as levity.

After all the devastation viewed coming in yesterday, from Florida, today while walking this town, there was little evidence of Katrina, except in the T shirt shops. Most popular shirt sold, according to the proprietors is "KATRINA GAVE ME THE BIGGEST **** *** I EVER HAD" Use your own imagination. Evidently, every dime - or shall I say - most of the money that has been floated into this area has been done so to fix the tourist drawing areas and not the population centers that I saw yesterday.

There still were some signs of rebuilding, however. There were still businesses that were for sale and that just weren't ever going to open any more. Not on Royal Street or Bourbon Street. Those places are up and running. They are running BIG and they are running LOUD and they are virtually begging people to come in off the street to sample whatever the establishment has to offer. One place has the most alcoholic drink in the Big Easy - guaranteed. Another place has what is called the Hand Grenade, and it comes in a glass that looks like an over sized hand grenade. I guess it must be pretty powerful, based on the ability of some college kids to walk AND talk at the same time after having one. Great t shirts abound. Some I would never be allowed to wear, unless it was at midnight in my drum studio, with the lights off, and the door locked. They were very funny though.

I HAVE THE BODY OF A GOD Unfortunately, it is Buddha
I GOT BOURBON FACED
ON SHIT STREET
F E M A JUST ANOTHER FOUR LETTER "F" WORD
FEMA ESCAPE PLAN RUN M. F. RUN
There was fabulous music to be heard while walking Bourbon St. There were the usual vendors of trinkets and trash. Feather Boa's for as little as $4.99 each could be purchased for less, if you wanted it bad enough. You want BEADS? Well, you could buy beads by the dozens. What you did with them after the purchase was entirely up to you.

Interesting stores of another type can be found on Bourbon St., too. Larry Flynt of Hustler Magazine fame has not one, but THREE establishments that offer "shows" to those so inclined. Across the street to one of these rather well done and informative store fronts, is another that promises total nudity. I shot a photograph of two store fronts, right next to each other.

The first promised the most convincing female impersonators in New Orleans. The second - right next door, mind you - extolled the virtues of their "live sex review". Based on the photos - no, I didn't take any pictures - it appears that it is a team sport on Bourbon St.
I encountered a couple coming out of a T shirt store that had obviously consumed either the world's most powerful drink or two or three hand grenades each. I could smell them from 5 feet away. She was all happy because her boyfriend, Mr. Don't lean on me I can't walk either, bought her a feather boa. She shouted at me "HEY YOU WANNNNNNA TAKE A REAL GHOOOOOOOD PIXSHURE?" I told her I usually did.

I took her picture with Mr. I spent all my money on booze for this. He either had a problem with his eyes, or he had a whole lot of booze. I was amazed at the couple's ability to maneuver. They tried to walk down the street, but Floozy Barfly was still yelling over her shoulder at me - and still trying to bump and grind on her squeeze's leg….. I thought they were going over more than once.

Here's an observation for you. I went in to probably close to 18 of the "T shirt, beads and mask" shops on Bourbon St. EVERY ONE OF THEM WERE RUN BY GUYS WHO RUN OUR 7 - 11 STORES AT HOME. One of them even had his mother stuck in one of those $14.00 folding canvas chairs in between racks of clothes. She scared me to death, because I didn't see her there when I started looking at shirts. She scared me again when she smiled. Not one tooth could be seen anywhere in her grin.

New Orleans is a great place to hear music. Sometimes it is even good music. Actually, most times it is good music. Beware of everything else.