Is That Spike Lee?
People are starting to park on the street. The Zulu parade with this year's grand marshall, Spike Lee, is winding its way across town, and will officially end about four blocks from here at Galvez and Canal. Earlier I went out to my car to get an empty frappuccino bottle from the floorboard so I could check my spelling of frappuccino, and I could smell that unmistakable charcoal and lighter-fluid smell from barbecue grills all over the area.
I tried to get into Carnival this year. I walked down Canal to the French Quarter on Saturday, had a dozen oysters and a beer on Iberville, tried my damnedest to embrace the drunken humanity all around me, tried to be happy about the few bare breasts I saw, slipped into Harrah's Casino and like an unhappy rat in a maze tried to find my way out again, went into Canal Place and tried not to look at myself in the mirrored elevator, had some sweet and sour shrimp, went back out, stood in the middle of Canal Blvd., lit up what appeared to be a cigarette right in front of but downwind from the police van, caught two or three floats and a couple of marching bands of the all female Iris parade, elbowed a guy in the head in self-defense, took a few pictures, became discouraged, and went back to Canal Place to see the 3:30 showing of Polanski's Pianist. I was really thirsty and so instead of paying three dollars for a bottle of Cinema water, I went back to the Chinese place at the food court and got a 10 cent cup of water. Before I bought my ticket I asked the guy taking tickets if he was going to let me bring my water in. He said he really wasn't supposed to encourage that but...maybe if I hid it. He watched me buy a ticket and slide the cup down to my side and pretended to be befuddled when I misdirected his attention by saying, look, there goes Denzel Washington.
Now I can hear the marching bands for Zulu on Galvez. Today it's better if I just stay here and imagine that I'm missing all the fun. I'm not making the greatest use of this space, really. On Friday I had even done a little Travelocity searching for low last minute fares to someplace other than this, set up an account and asked for email reminders when fares to such and such got below such and such. Next year maybe I'll leave town and somebody else can stay here for Mardi Gras. Free New Orleans Mardi Gras lodging. Eat that Googlebot.
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People are starting to park on the street. The Zulu parade with this year's grand marshall, Spike Lee, is winding its way across town, and will officially end about four blocks from here at Galvez and Canal. Earlier I went out to my car to get an empty frappuccino bottle from the floorboard so I could check my spelling of frappuccino, and I could smell that unmistakable charcoal and lighter-fluid smell from barbecue grills all over the area.
I tried to get into Carnival this year. I walked down Canal to the French Quarter on Saturday, had a dozen oysters and a beer on Iberville, tried my damnedest to embrace the drunken humanity all around me, tried to be happy about the few bare breasts I saw, slipped into Harrah's Casino and like an unhappy rat in a maze tried to find my way out again, went into Canal Place and tried not to look at myself in the mirrored elevator, had some sweet and sour shrimp, went back out, stood in the middle of Canal Blvd., lit up what appeared to be a cigarette right in front of but downwind from the police van, caught two or three floats and a couple of marching bands of the all female Iris parade, elbowed a guy in the head in self-defense, took a few pictures, became discouraged, and went back to Canal Place to see the 3:30 showing of Polanski's Pianist. I was really thirsty and so instead of paying three dollars for a bottle of Cinema water, I went back to the Chinese place at the food court and got a 10 cent cup of water. Before I bought my ticket I asked the guy taking tickets if he was going to let me bring my water in. He said he really wasn't supposed to encourage that but...maybe if I hid it. He watched me buy a ticket and slide the cup down to my side and pretended to be befuddled when I misdirected his attention by saying, look, there goes Denzel Washington.
Now I can hear the marching bands for Zulu on Galvez. Today it's better if I just stay here and imagine that I'm missing all the fun. I'm not making the greatest use of this space, really. On Friday I had even done a little Travelocity searching for low last minute fares to someplace other than this, set up an account and asked for email reminders when fares to such and such got below such and such. Next year maybe I'll leave town and somebody else can stay here for Mardi Gras. Free New Orleans Mardi Gras lodging. Eat that Googlebot.
- jimlouis 3-04-2003 9:01 pm