Death and dying in the Big Easy
I met G at the memorial, which had moved to N’s house, which serendiptously was on the parade route. It was tough seeing the remnants of a man’s life – I perused his bookshelves and his art and thought, I could date a man like this – with books like Walker Percy’s Thanatos Syndrome and Greil Marcus’ Mystery Train front and center on the shelves. His fiance was talking about how they had all these plans – all these plans that now have no purpose – she was taking a job here, they were going to be married before Jazz Fest, she was going to meet all the friends who were now gathered in his living room for his funeral.
When G and I left, she said “it’s so weird” and I said get used to it honey. Tis the season. She said with all the men she has dated, it’s going to be a very long season.
We followed Krewe du Vieux into the Quarter and met up with P&R at Molly’s and from there we made it over to W’s hotel on Bourbon and went up and visited with the guys. W is a trader at my company and he was part of Colgate 13 – a group of acapella singers — 6 of them still get together every Super Bowl weekend – hence the trip here – we hung out on the balcony and watched the Crimson Tide hotties and I have to say I can’t believe how many bare breasts I had to bare witness to – areolas of all different size and colors – this is not going native – New Orleans girls do not offer their breasts up for public consumption. This is strictly going tourist.
Then we came inside and were treated to singing by the boys – it was great – at Danny Boy, they brought G and I tissues because we both said we would cry. Of course, after every song, I clamored for them to sing “Dick in the Box” – but they didn’t know all the words.
Later, we went to Rooster’s and ate breakfast and K came over and sat with us, so hot.
Makes you want to go to Turkey.