Let me start by saying that Noah and I had only about 3 hours of sleep before we left Phoenix. This leads to a very simple and obvious lesson. Travel Lesson #1: Don't deprive yourself of sleep if you're going to an all night party. We were completely dead on the flight from Phoenix to Houston, and you'll notice that it affected us throughout the trip.
Before the trip Noah told me he'd pick up some beads for the trip (so we'd have something to start with). I asked him about the beads while we were driving to the airport and Noah told me, "I've got the beads taken care of." He went to Walmart the night before and discovered they didn't have stings of beads so he bought packages of beads for us to string together. At first I thought the idea was absurd, and I wasn't about to do it, but while we were sitting in the Houston airport something inside of me (the sleep deprivation?) decided that a string of homemade Mardi Gras beads sounded pretty amusing, and that it would be worthwhile. I had Noah bust out the beads on the flight to New Orleans. We each started a string at takeoff, and when the stewardess came by we were both stringing our beads. We both ordered mixed drinks, which wasn't a great idea for precision work, but oh well. Since the flight was very short Noah gave up before he even got halfway done. I, on the other hand, persisted at even greater speed to finish my string. By the time we got to the gate I had finished my beads. They weren't impressive, but they were mine, and there wouldn't be another string of beads like it in all of Mardi Gras.
I had seen the "W" hotel and its red velvet lobby on a couple of previous trips, but I never thought I could afford to stay there. We were lucky and got a really good rate on our room. We arrived at 1 and tried to check in, but none of the rooms were ready. I was about to get concerned when the desk person informed me that check-in was at 3. My bad. We decided to eat lunch to kill some time. (The fact that we were both starving helped make that decision too.)
I took Noah to Johnny Po' Boys, just because the food is cheap, fast, and good. I had a seafood muffalata that consisted of had fried oysters, shrimp, and fish on half a muffalata loaf. I didn't like the oysters, and the shrimp were ok, but the fish was outstanding. The bread was really nicely toasted too. Noah had a sandwich that had hamburger, italian sausage, and hot sausage on it along with a Mike's Hard Lemonade. I thought the sandwich would have a hamburger patty, italian sausage patty, and hot sausage patty, but instead it was all mixed together into a sickly looking lump that I would have found difficult to eat. Noah said it tasted pretty good.
I ended up getting pissed before we left. I found out that Noah paid the exact same for his Hard Lemonade that I paid for my medium soda. I got completely jacked on the soda and didn't appreciate it. That may be the last time Johnny Po' Boys ever sees me.
Noah wanted to make some business phone calls so he really wanted to get into the room. We got back to our hotel after 3 and our room still wasn't ready. The guy at the front desk said something about there being a lot of late check-outs and that the room should be ready by 4.
Since we didn't have anything better to do we went to Bourbon Street. I didn't get 10 feet down Bourbon Street when I got hit right in the face by a string of beads. My first throw of Mardi Gras and it hits me in the face! Well, not to look a gift throw in the mouth, I picked up the string of fuchsia dice beads and put them on. We stood in the middle of the street catching beads until our necks hurt from the weight of all our beads. That's were I learned Mardi Gras Lesson #1: Beads are free. There's no need to buy cheap beads when you can get all the cheap beads you want by just walking down Bourbon Street. If you're going to buy beads, make them the biggest, gaudiest looking things you've ever seen (taste has nothing to do with boobs or beads during Mardi Gras).
On the way back to the hotel I asked Noah what he thought, and he said it wasn't what he expected. I asked if he thought that it would be non-stop boobs, and he said, "Something like that." I reminded him that it was 3 in the afternoon, cold, and that that night would be better.
We got back to the hotel a little after 4 and the room still wasn't ready. I was getting pissed and I was ready to wait in the lobby until they found us a clean room, but the guy behind the desk said, "Why don't you go to the bar next door and have a drink?" I really didn't want to, I wanted to stay in the lobby and be a pain in the ass until the room was ready. I think the desk guy sensed my hostility and reluctantly added "...on the hotel." Much better. Up until that point I wasn't very happy with their service. Their "too cool for you" all black wardrobes and being unapologetic about our room not being ready at check in time wasn't making a good impression on me. ("Sorry" buys an amazing amount of good will and trying to find a way to make up for the situation buys even more.) We were at the bar swilling premium liqueur faster than the desk guy could say, "Just kidding."
It didn't take too long for them to clean up our room after we went to the bar. (I guess the front desk guy looked at us and thought we might raise quite a tab if he didn't hurry up.) Once we got into our room I didn't have any complaints. It's the nicest hotel room I've ever stayed in. The beds were extremely comfortable with feather mattresses, down comforters, and down pillows. There was more style in the frosted glass, sliding bathroom door than I've seen in any other hotel room. For sheer comfort alone I'd recommend the "W". (If you're after a true New Orleans experience though, I'd recommend the Andrew Jackson Hotel that I stayed at in December.)
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I was ready to find a spot for the Proteus parade, but Noah was being slow. He said, "Wouldn't it be weird if I shaved my head?" I told him he'd never do it, so he decided to give it a try. All he had was an electric razor with a sideburn clipper and it totally screwed up his hair. He came out of the bathroom with one shaved line on the side of his head and said, "Dude, it's not working." It was so funny. He was lucky he had a hat to put on before we left. No one would see his hair under his hat, but he whined about needing to buy a set of clippers to shave his head. Brother. (Noah actually packed pretty well; not only did he have a baseball cap, but he packed a funny hat too.)
My first Mardi Gras parade experience was to be the Proteus parade. They're one of the oldest krewes and they're known to have good parades. We walked up and down St. Charles looking for a decent spot, but they all seemed really crowded. We eventually found a spot we liked and waited for the parade to roll by. While we were waiting I saw a guy pushing a cart with beads and funny hats. He had a purple velvet wizard hat that looked pretty cool, but I didn't stop him. The parade finally started and what came was marching bands, krewe royalty on horseback, flambeaux, and floats manned by costumed krewe members. It was an experience. We didn't get many throws, but I did get a doubloon and a plastic tumbler.
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[I brought my digital camera with me to take tons of pictures, and I started to at the Proteus parade, but without much warning my camera battery went dead. While it did remind me to buy a spare battery, it was enough to discourage me from taking pictures so you'll notice that this is where the pictures stop. (I recharged my camera battery, but after the experience on Bourbon Street later that night, I didn't feel my camera would have survived the experience so I kept it in our room.)]
I asked Noah what he thought about the parade, and he said he wasn't impressed. He thought that the overall attitude of the parade should have been more professional. I guess he was offended by one of the flambeaux eating a slice of pizza while he was walking and others who had their hats out for donations. I thought the parade was very well done. It's obvious that there was a lot of work put into the floats and the costumes. (Like the guy next to me said, "It's the best parade I've seen this Mardi Gras.") If they were in a partying sort of mood, then that's ok; good work deserves a good celebration.
After the parade was over Noah wanted to find someplace to buy hair clippers so he could finish shaving his head. We went back to Canal Street to find one of the crappy electronics stores that panders to overseas tourists that line the French Quarter side of the street. I didn't think they'd have hair clippers, but you never knew. It turns out the first store we went into had clippers. After our little shopping excursion I wanted to stay and watch the Orpheus parade (but I was almost too hungry to think), and Noah wanted to go back to the hotel room to shave his head, so we did neither and went to dinner instead.
Dinner was at NOLA. It couldn't be helped since NOLA was my all-time favorite restaurant.
I started dinner with a spinach salad with applewood bacon, danish blue cheese, and fried oysters. It was great! Once again NOLA's food was in balance and very flavorful, and unlike Johnny Po' Boys, the fried oysters were delicious.
For the entree I went with a special of the night. Grilled duck breast with white truffled leeks, parmesan grits, and a balsamic reduction(?). (If there's something that could be guaranteed great on the NOLA menu, it's duck. They make it better than any other restaurant I've eaten duck at. So far I've had it three different ways from NOLA: smoked, roasted, and grilled, and each preparation has been great.) The duck had a great flavor, and even the fat tasted good. The leeks added saltiness, the parmesan grits added richness and pungency, and the sauce tied everything together.
My dessert was the raspberry and vanilla mascarpone cream pie with blood orange sauce. It was light, fruity, and absolutely delicious. The blood orange sauce was a nice compliment, being a little bitter and slightly sweet.
As for Noah, he ordered the NOLA equivalent of Steak Frite, steak with pommes frites [fries] and a wild mushroom/brandy cream sauce. I was disappointed in his selection. There were so many good things on the menu, and he went for one of the most plain and unimaginative. Oh well, it was his dinner. He said it was pretty good, but when I tasted it I thought it was just ok. Noah ordered a fried apple pie for dessert which was pretty decent, but not nearly as good as my cream pie.
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After dinner Noah finally got to shave his head and then we headed (no pun intended) to Bourbon Street. It was completely different from how we'd seen it earlier that day; there were stretches that were absolutely packed full of people, the balconies had a lot more to look at, and beads were flying everywhere. There were times when we got swept away with the crowd, which I definitely didn't appreciate (one of the few situations that puts me on edge is being in a crowd and not being able to control my own movement).
I asked Noah if this is more like what he thought it would be like, and he said yeah.
We only stayed on Bourbon Street an hour or two; the large crowd wasn't putting me at ease, we'd barely had any sleep, and there was always Mardi Gras night.
On the way back to our hotel some guy walking in the street in front of us said to some lady in a doorway on our side of the street, "You know you can get arrested for that." The lady stood up, buttoned up her pants and replied something like, "Yeah right," but she was so drunk that she couldn't even get those words out without slurring them into something incomprehensible. I heard the lady behind me say, "Did you see that girl crapping in the doorway. That was so gross." I didn't realize that that was what she was doing, but I told Noah, "Damn. You'd think she'd just use the Port-o-Johns just down the street." (You could see them from where we were, but I guess she was too drunk to even manage that.)
I woke up later than I planned to on Mardi Gras morning. I wanted to wake up and catch the Zulu parade at 10. Instead we ended up getting out of the hotel at 11. After we left the hotel I was more concerned with eating than seeing a parade. That leads to what the bartender told us Mardi Gras Lesson #2: There are no good restaurants open on Fat Tuesday. It's strange but true, so you just find food where you can get it. I found things to eat at bars, street vendors, and K-Paul's Kitchen (which wasn't too concerned with tradition to turn down money for take out orders), but it's hard on a foodie.
[I would really like to know where that tradition comes from. I'll try to research it, but if anyone knows, please tell me and save me the trouble. My intuition tells me that it was probably a proclamation from King Rex a long time ago and everyone just obeyed it, but that's just a guess.]
After fueling up on some meat pies from a bar I was ready to start my quest for the coconut. [For those that don't know, the most prized throw in all of Mardi Gras is supposed to be the Zulu coconut. Each Zulu krewe member gets a coconut and paints it, then at the Zulu parade they hand them out. (It's rare because they can't throw them out since they'd kill someone if that person caught it with their head. That, and I believe it's illegal to throw out food items in New Orleans parish.)]
We took a position in a crowd where the parade turned from Saint Charles to Canal. I noticed at the Proteus parade that they threw more stuff to the larger crowds, so it seemed like this would be a good place to get some throws. Wrong. We really didn't get anything, and the parade route was barricaded so it would be impossible to get near a float to get a coconut. I decided this called for a drastic change of location. I told Noah that we were going towards the end of the parade route, so we walked down Canal Street and turned onto Basin and walked down a ways. Along the way I saw a vendor who had a couple of the purple velvet wizard hats, so I bought it and put it on.
We stopped at a spot that looked good, and it was. A float stopped nearby and the people on the float were generously throwing out all sorts of goodies. Noah and I did pretty well, and they moved on. I figured that near the end of the route is where they would be dumping all the throws they had left before they actually hit the end. I decided it was time to try for a coconut so I went up to the floats with my hand up, and ask them for a coconut. It didn't work very well.
Noah was wondering why there weren't as many people around this area as there was on Canal Street. I told him to look around. It didn't take him long to figure out that he was only one of maybe five white people within sight. He told me, "Dude, you took me to the projects!" "No I didn't," I replied. "Yes you did. Look over there. *pointing* There's a sign that says the XXXXX Projects." I knew he'd be fine (he even didn't notice were he was before I mentioned it to him). Besides, while I was trying to get a coconut Noah was in the back getting all the throws. He definitely didn't have any complaints about my choice of locations after that.
I didn't have any luck getting a coconut. In-between floats I spoke to some random friendly lady. She asked me if it was my first time at Mardi Gras. I told her it was, and that I was trying to get a coconut. She told me the procedure, and said it was easy. She then proudly showed me the two coconuts that her son got her. I went about my way.
I almost got a couple of coconuts, but it didn't happen. I always seemed to be about 5 feet away from where someone would get one. Later I ran into the same lady, and she asked me if I got one yet. I had to admit that I didn't, but she said she'd give me one of hers. That was awfully nice, and I told her that I felt bad taking it, but she smugly assured me that her son would get her another one. I gladly took her coconut then.
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Even though I had a coconut, I wasn't satisfied with the way I got it. I tried getting one the old fashioned way, but after the next few floats my heart wasn't really in it any more. I mean, I did have a coconut after all, and I really didn't care how I got it.
I spent what was left of the parade trying to get really cool beads since I had more than enough regular beads. The parade actually didn't last too much longer, which was good because I was getting hungry again.
Noah and I headed back to the hotel; me with my coconut and Noah with about 15 pounds of beads (which was more than he could even wear). We were also having a small contest over who could get the longest strand of beads. After the Zulu parade Noah was winning with a couple of 4 foot long strands. I hated losing, but that's what I got for going for a coconut.
Upon reflection, I have to say that the time we spent at the Zulu parade was the most fun I had at Mardi Gras.
After the Zulu parade Noah needed to cart his massive loot back to the hotel and I wanted to track down something decent to eat. While heading back to the hotel we saw lots of gay guys dressed in elaborate costumes, little parades of costumed revelers being led by small marching bands, and Queen Irene(?) being pushed in a shopping cart ["Still rolling since 1985"]. Something about that walk seemed sort of magical. It was the first time I really felt like I was in a completely different place populated by strangely jubilant people who felt that that day was special. It almost felt like anything could happen.
We were almost back to the hotel when I noticed that K-Paul's Kitchen had food to go. I got the blackened drum fish with mashed potatoes.
As we passed the doorway the girl was in the night before I noticed a big brown streak on the sidewalk. Someone obviously tried to use a broom to do the job of a pooper scooper. Bleh.
We got back to the hotel and it was such a nice day out I wanted to eat in the courtyard. Noah scarfed his food down while I took the time to enjoy my delicious blackened fish. Noah went back to the room to make a home for his beads, and I decided that the courtyard was a perfect place to smoke my cigar. My table looked directly through the "W"'s dark driveway and out onto the street forming a perfectly lit rectangle which bore a striking resemblance to a television screen. I took out the Perez Premium "Churchill" that I purchased earlier from Black Bull Cigars and started to smoke it. I sat there for about an hour and a half just enjoying my cigar and watching everything unfold. It was pretty surreal.
I watched one half of a conversation as guy in an oversized cowboy hat negotiated with some people on the second story patio of our hotel for one of his beads. I couldn't tell what he was trying to get the women to do; either he wanted both of them to flash him or to kiss each other. Either way I knew he got whatever it was he requested because I saw him throw his beads up.
There were the three girls staying in our hotel who walked in through the driveway with their bare chests painted. They were loud and obnoxious which greatly diminished their attractiveness.
There was the attractive, although big assed, lady who looked to be in her mid 30s, who came down from her room in jeans and a t-shirt. She crossed the driveway to the lobby of the hotel and came out a few minutes later holding hands with a young guy, also in jeans and a t-shirt, drinking a beer. I caught the little bit of conversation they had before they reached the elevators.
Lady: "What's your name?"
Guy: "Billy."
Lady: "So Billy, how old are you?"
Guy: "20."
Lady: "So what are you drinking Billy?"
The lady noticed I was watching them and she put her finger up to her lips and pantomimed a "sshing" motion at me as they disappeared into the room with the elevators. I wasn't exactly sure what to make of that interaction, but I figured I'd be there for at least an hour, so I was curious if I'd see them again. I didn't. While I was waiting I was wondering how one asks a concierge for certain "services".
One of the last things I saw were two outlandishly dressed ladies (who looked a little old to be dressed that loudly) walk into the courtyard and look around. They asked me if I could take their pictures over by the grand staircase in the courtyard, and I readily obliged them. I took a couple of, hopefully, very good looking pictures of them. I headed back to my seat when one of the ladies came after me. She handed me a string of beads from around her neck and said, "Thanks daddy." She told me that the beads were "UFO" beads. When I asked why, she said, "Because they look like little flying saucers." I couldn't dispute that.
After I finished my voyeuristic cigar smoking session, I went back to our room. Noah was sleeping so I took a quick nap. After having a hard time getting up from our ultra-comfortable beds, we headed to Bourbon Street. Before we left I looked at myself with the wizard hat on and decided that it was missing something. I went into the bathroom and put on the hotel bathrobe, and my costume looked complete. I wanted to wear it out, but you have to exit the hotel through the driveway, and they always had about two people posted there. I would have done it if the hotel didn't put a big "W" on the breast making it really obvious that it was their bathrobe.
We left (me without my bathrobe) and stopped at some bar and got a couple of hurricanes to go. (It felt weird being able to drink on the street.) Our hurricanes didn't taste like they had any alcohol in them, so we slammed them and tossed our cups. Before we got to Bourbon Street, there was some guy throwing beads from a balcony. I raised my hand up and he threw one to me (it hurt like hell when I caught it too). The guy said, "Go find boobies." I looked down in my hand, and the string was medium sized silver and white beads, with green leaves and purple roses. Quite impressive looking. Noah looked at them and wanted one too so he asked the guy to throw one to him, and he did. It turns out those purple roses were pretty popular. I got propositioned a couple of times for them, but I decided to keep them for their story. (I think the best beads are the ones with stories, like my homemade ones or the "UFO" beads.)
It was weird walking down Bourbon Street that night; it wasn't as crowded as the night before, and we could actually walk without being crushed by people. We decided to stop at a bar and get a couple of drinks. I got a frozen hurricane while Noah actually got two frozen drinks. My drink was pretty tasty, but it was too cold to drink quickly.
We just walked casually, stopping to look at whatever some chick was showing, and moved on slowly sipping our drinks. As we were walking I saw some beads coming my way, so I grabbed them right out of the air from the blind side of some unsuspecting guy. He was cool about it (which is good because I hurt my hand doing it and didn't want any shit over the beads). It turned out to be a rather long set of beads. I put them on and they were 5 feet long! They were hitting my knees when I walked so I tucked part of the strand into my pocket, and turned around and told Noah that I was winning our little bead contest. He said that his beads were just as long as mine, then I pulled the rest of the strand out of my pocket to let it fall to its full length. He was duly impressed.
It seemed like there were four kinds of women who flashed: nasty skanks (who wants to look at that?); strippers (doing charity?); cute girls with small breasts who needed validation (you really are too cute to have those type of self esteem issues); and finally those cute girls who grew up, got implants, and wanted to show them off (you're not as cute with the implants). I obviously liked the cute girls, but there weren't nearly enough of them.
We had a fun time, but we were getting a little tired. I wanted to stay up to see the police clear Bourbon Street, but I was having a hard time staying up. We agreed to go back to the hotel and nap a bit, then come back out and watch the crowd be dispersed. We got back to the hotel, I set the alarm, and we passed out. I woke up at about 12:30, and wondered what the hell was going on. (My clock was still on Phoenix time and I had set the alarm 2 hours after I wanted to get up. ARGGGG!) I decided to brush my teeth when I learned New Orleans Lesson #1: Hurricanes sneak up on you. I didn't walk to the bathroom so much as stumbled to the bathroom. I wasn't drunk when I went to bed, but now I was drunk! What a waste.
I woke up fairly early on Wednesday, about 9 in the morning. Noah wanted to sleep in so I decided to give him some time while I walked around looking for shops that I wanted to buy things from. (I knew they weren't going to be open that early, but at least I'd know where they were.) I found a shop on Monday that had little clay devil horns that I thought Lynn would like, so I went looking for it. I also wanted to find the mask shop that I went to in December to see if they had any new masks that I would like.
I got outside of the hotel and was greeted by a very different world than the day before. It looked like the color was washed out of everything, and what was left was slowly decaying. The streets had been sprayed down the night before to clean things up, but that only made things wet and rank.
I walked around and looked for the shop with the horns, but I just couldn't find the place. I knew it was near the hotel, so there weren't that many places to look. I was beginning to wonder if there weren't shops in the French Quarter that appeared and disappeared at will. I circled the block the hotel was on, and I saw an old couple wheeling their luggage down the street. I watched and thought to myself that I'd never let my luggage touch that sidewalk.
I couldn't find the shop and it was really aggravating me. Finally, I went to the one place I didn't think it would be, next to Johnny Po' Boys, and there it was. Ok, so maybe the shops didn't have occult powers and appear at will only to tempt people with cursed wares.
I decided it was time to track down my mask shop. I had tried unsuccessfully for two days to locate the place, even making a phone call to Erin to see if she remembered the location, so I wasn't sure if I would be able to find it. I methodically walked the French Quarter, up Chartres and down Royal, and even visited places I didn't think the shop could be, because you never knew, the shop with the horns was where I didn't think it was. While walking around I studied the people up and about. These people were not the drunken tourists who were running the streets the day before: they were people who actually worked and lived in the French Quarter; people who just came back from church with fresh ash crosses traced on their foreheads; people who had to clean up after the party. Push brooms, rakes, and hoses had replaced the beads, cups of beer, and funny hats from the day before. All of the excess was being pushed down the drain or bagged up and set on the curb. It was interesting seeing the locals preform another part of the Mardi Gras ritual that most people don't see. I was amazed when I walked down one block of street that was completely clean; it was quite a feat considering I remembered what the area looked like the day before. Someone must have stayed up very late to get that done, and I silently saluted their effort.
Eventually I found my mask shop, even if Erin gave me bad directions. (Actually there were portions of Erin's directions that were accurate, so it gave me a better idea of where to look even though I knew she was wrong.) I also found a couple of mask shops I hadn't seen before, and they were actually open! I looked at them, but I didn't see anything I liked. I stopped at another shop which seemed to specialize in ugly things, but they had genuine Venetian masks. There was one mask in particular that I actually liked that only covered the top half of the face and had a tall colorful hat. I considered buying it, but decided I'd figure it out later, and started back for the hotel.
When I was just a couple of blocks away from the hotel, this guy started talking to me. I didn't think anything of it since a lot of the people I ran into were pretty friendly. He was asking me questions about where I was from and what not. When I told him I had to meet a friend, he looked at me and said, "Oh, I thought you wanted your dick sucked." That was the first time I'd ever been propositioned by a gay prostitute. I let him know that he was mistaken and left. I went about a block when some shady guy started talking to me. I didn't even break stride when I told him I had to meet someone. I couldn't take being propositioned twice in the same 5 minutes.
Eventually Noah woke up, and we walked to Bourbon Street so he could buy a shot glass he really liked, and we could get something to eat. On the way to Bourbon Street we stopped at Pat O'Briens so Noah could buy a hurricane. New Orleans Lesson #2: Only buy hurricanes from Pat O'Briens. It was the best hurricane I've ever had; it was tasty, but it had a ton of alcohol in it that was really well masked.
Noah bought his shot glass and we ate lunch at Rémoulade. The only thing I'll say about Rémoulade is that it's ok at best.
I took Noah back to the shop I found the mask I was considering buying, and the mask was gone. I guess it wasn't meant to be.
We had dinner at Bacco since they have good food at reasonable prices. I got the salad of the day, and was bitterly disappointed. I now know to avoid the salads at Bacco. The entrees we had were the same as I had in December 2001, so you can read that review because Bacco is very consistent. For dessert I was trying to decide between the sorbetti and the "Bacco Cioccolato". Well, I felt like I needed something light because of the rich lobster and shrimp ravioli in champagne-butter sauce I had just eaten, but I didn't like the flavors they selected for the sorbetti, so I went with the "Bacco Cioccolato" (a chocolate custard flavored with framboise). It was a mistake on my part. The dessert was too rich for me and I ended up eating less than half of it.
We booked an early flight out of New Orleans for Thursday, so we decided not to pay for a hotel room for Wednesday night. We tried to kill as much time as we could, but we got to the airport around midnight and that's where I learned Travel Lesson #2: Never attempt to sleep in an airport. It was hell. The terminals were closed, so we had to sit with our bags in low backed chairs with armrests in the freezing cold concourse. As if that wasn't enough, they kept playing the same damn Louie Armstrong cd over and over again and occasionally they would interrupt it with a very loud beep, which sounded like they were going to announce something official like, "The terminals are now open," but it was only followed by silence. And then the Louie Armstrong cd. I couldn't even get half as comfortable as I needed to be to get to some sleep, and I was being subjected to aural torture. In less than an hour of being there I decided that $75 wasn't too much to pay to avoid that kind of hell.
[If you're the person at the airport who gets paid to make the lives of people who try and get some sleep there miserable, you can sleep comfortably at night knowing that you have more than surpassed your job duties and have conceived of something even the devil himself would be proud to take credit for. I can only hope that your eventual punishment will be that you have to spend your afterlife at the airport trying to get some sleep with Louie Armstrong in the background singing, "What a wonderful world." It would be appropriate.]
For more information about Mardi Gras check out this article from HowStuffWorks.
The trip ended up being different from what I thought it would be, but I'm not exactly sure how. Part of it might have been that it was too close to my last New Orleans trip and I was kind of sick of the place, or maybe it's because this was the first time I went to New Orleans with a someone who wasn't a foodie. I don't really know, which is weird because Mardi Gras was a good experience for me. I guess it might just be me reflecting Noah's disappointment. Well enough of my prattling about disappointment and on with the prattling about the trip.
[Noah recently sent me this article ("Growing queasy in the Big Easy") that he said basically described his Mardi Gras experience. There are some parts of the article that are blatantly incorrect, but the parts that are correct are amusing. I do disagree with the arthor's line about "That's why everyone needs to visit New Orleans at least once. (Not more than once ... but once.)"; I'm looking forward to trying to attend next year's Mardi Gras. -01/31/05]