Frenchmen Street

Last night, the vast majority of our household went out to celebrate Alex's imminent birthday.

On Frenchmen Street. In the French Quarter. (After a quick parallel parking lesson-- Jess is now a pro.)

I was immediately and completely overstimulated, but in a really wonderful way.

There were the strings of little white lights strung over the little art market. The crazy neon glowing lights of the party bus that botched the turn onto Frenchmen and sat in the intersection. The flickering oil lamps on the old, French buildings. The dim lights in Maison and the bright lights on the stage where the band was playing.
 
The smell of my Abita. The smell of the birthday girl's cocktail. Heavily perfumed and cologned people. A man who was apparently homeless and hadn't showered in a while hanging out quietly in the doorway of a business that was closed for the day. The carefully crafted soaps at the market. 

The fun blues revue band playing in Maison when we finally arrived! The roar of the crowd there versus the murmur of people wandering along the street between venues. Other bands in other bars. A happy guy on the street rocking out on his ukulele. One band with a guy beat-boxing through his Sousaphone, which is a really impressive sound.


I didn't stay out very long, because my church, my job, is an hour away and starts at 8:30AM (when the congregation was asked if they wanted to change that, the responses were, "You can't wake up early to praise the Lord?" and, "7:30 would be preferable!"). I'll never be the one trying to stay out for very long, either. However, especially in the face of my persistent vegetarianism (yeah, I think that's going to stick), I am really excited about other aspects of this city's culture.

I am excited to go hear good, live music on other nights of the week.