We had a fun night off in New Orleans. Gary took me to Palm Court, where I got to drink a Sazerac and watch a jazz band. The way the everyone generally humored this drunk, old crazy lady amused me. Gary said she was at the place the last time he came to town.
Some photos of the French Quarter at night:
Some photos of the French Quarter the next day:
The Saint, where we played that night, is like the bar at the end of the world. The place was like the outpost saloon on a distant planet in a space cowboy movie, the neighborhood silent, many people each arriving with a large dog in tow, and the ceiling so very near to falling in. All of this added up to a surreal effect that we enjoyed.
However, BOTH local acts didn’t show. This was probably related to a bad loss by the Saints a few hours before the show, but come on, seriously. Had a good time playing anyway, and we got to meet Jean and Eddie’s son, a photographer who is on the film crew of Survivor.
A friend of the Brauwns’ put us up that night in the city. Everyone was so hospitable. There was “country water” in the kitchen and sweet tea in the fridge.
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