1) Why must the dawn come? Or rather, why must the dawn come so punctually? I had had six hours of sleep interrupted only once, but I felt I could use six more.
2) The morning passed quietly, writing and catching up on the socials and being aware of how my body felt. Eventually I had a lovely large omelette for breakfast. Food helps.
3) Midafternoon I ended up at the Kingfish for a late lunch at the bar of fried chicken and veggies and hash browns. While I was waiting for the order I had a moment of anxiety: is fried chicken always finger food? Certainly it is at home, but in a restaurant? (Fried chicken is just not often seen on menus in the cold No’th.) The answer, I soon learned, is that when it’s chicken fingers that are fried, they are knife and fork food. Whew!
4) From there I headed to Canal Street in time to see a parade that involved a lot of Dolly Parton lookalikes riding portable toiletmobiles — think what the Shriners might have done with that! — marching bands, and other Mardi Gras madness.
4a) And I will confess that I got a happy shiver up my spine when I heard a recording of Glen Campbell’s “Southern Nights.” Sometimes hearing an almost-forgotten old song is like rediscovering a favorite pair of comfortable shoes.
4b) This was my first real on-the-ground parade experience. Some people had clearly moved in for the day, others moved about in large groups. Everyone swinging and staggering with beads. I could see why people said to throw your shoes away when it’s all done.
4b) I also witnessed the misfortune of what happens when the police reclose the barriers, preventing people from crossing the parade route street again. Oopsie! “One more, officer, one more!” To no avail.
5) I had to pick up a couple things at the CVS, which is the first CVS I’ve been to with its own liquor department. Livin’ la vida Nola!
6) I drifted into a place near Jackson Square, having no real plans or preferences. They didn’t have their A team in the kitchen, but the bartender made me a marvelous smoked old fashioned.
6a) I was sitting at the bar when a group of three — two young women and a man — bubbled in. One of the women — pale purple strapless top and shorts, feather tiara, long black hair — dashed by saying frankly “I’m going to use your restroom! I’ll order a drink when I come back!” And I thought “I’ll bet they’ve heard that one before.” When she returned she did, in fact, order a drink. I wasn’t paying much attention, but somehow it became A Thing — not what she ordered or something — and I thought I heard the bartender say under his breath that it was his second day.
6b) Lindsay texted during dinner having had a lovely long rest. I will see him tomorrow for a brunch that is “one of my favorite things of the year” and which I know involves show tunes.
7) Rounding a corner, I nearly ran smack dab into a white-bearded dude in a white friar’s robes carrying a sign that read “The End Is Near.” I didn’t know if he was in costume or a legitimate proselytizer. I should have said “Gurrrrllllll, nobody needs a sign to know that!” And ain’t it the saddest truth that that’s so?
8) I strolled through streets quiet and crowded, all visibly secured by police or military presence and equipment. I forget who said “Bourbon Street is for amateurs,” but yes.
9) And wouldn’t you know it, unquestionably legit proselytizers were stationed in the middle of an intersection there, just in case anyone was ready to repent.
10) So I made it an early night, and that’s OK.