Score 31-17. Who Dat! Who DAT!
What a Sunday. Feb 7, 2010 : a day to remember forever.
The New Orleans Saints won their first Super Bowl, and Costa Rica chose Laura Chinchilla as their new President.
Excitement mounted all day, from Bourbon Street in New Orleans to Calle Central in San Jose. Everybody was out on the streets: voters going to the polls in San Jose, Saints fans and other revelers drinking in New Orleans, cars honking, people just milling about. The mood was electric with anticipation.
5pm NOLA time - Streets empty out in The Big Easy. All quiet on Bourbon Street. Everybody was in front of the TV pretty much everywhere in the world.
The First Quarter was sheer torture, as we watched our guys get a bad case of nerves. It was, after all, the first Super Bowl ever for the Saints. But straight into the Second Quarter, they settled down, focused - and triumphed!! Oh, what a joy it was to watch. The New Orleans Saints went to their first Super Bowl and WON! What a team! What a city! Who Dat! Who Dat!
What a Sunday! While all this was going on, the people of Costa Rica were also electing their first Presidenta - Laura Chinchilla. You go girl! Only 50 years young but ready and able to lead Costa Rica into the future! Smart - educated at UCR and Georgetown. Sensible too - focused on Costa Rica but with an eye on the world. Laura Chinchilla seems to understand how everything is connected. The world will soon know her. She will accomplish great things, I predict.
So much to celebrate! What a great day for both Costa Rica and New Orleans! This is a new beginning for both places.
On the down side, that same day, Arsenal lost to Chelsea (GRAK was really grumpy about that until the Saints won) but there has to be balance in the Universe…
And, oh yes, speaking of elections, New Orleans has a new Mayor. Vamos a ver…
It’s a whole new day.
Showing posts with label New Orleans. Show all posts
Showing posts with label New Orleans. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 09, 2010
Saturday, November 01, 2008
Krewe of Boo ‘Deboos’!
What a night…!
What an amazing debut for a new Halloween Krewe for ’08 New Orleans.
Imagined, created and organized by Blaine Kerne, the creator of the famous Mardi Gras floats, the parade of 16 Krewe of Boo floats, a few of them featured here, as only pictures can truly communicate the reality(?), came past our flat on N. Peters St. to the howling approval of thousands of partygoers.
Everybody came out to see the spectacle - people of all ages, colors, and persuasions… Forget the economy and the politics, this is Halloween!
It was an awesome Mardi Gras-style Parade - huge floats, marching bands, dancing girls, trotting horses - moving past an enormous, festive crowd.
Thousands of people came down to the Quarter to see it, most dressed, or undressed, in every imaginable costume.
Everybody was there: Barack Obama, Sarah Palin, Hilary Clinton, the Duchess of Devonshire - all walking along congenially with assorted witches, ghouls and cartoon characters; everything you can imagine (and much you couldn’t possibly unless you were there…).
Despite many hours out on the streets, we never managed to find our ghostly friends who we were supposed to meet, but did manage to connect up with some new ones. Everyone is your friend at the Parade. And yes, the joyful shrieking reached a fever pitch when a sudden shout went out, “Here comes the Queen!” And now it was all hailing the Queen! The Queen! And from high up on the Queen’s Float, her entourage showered us with beads and plastic glasses.
And still more floats and dancing girls came…
It was still early in the evening when the Krewe of Boo finished winding past us, but the famous, and so much more irreverent, traditional street parade was just getting started up at Molly’s on Decatur St. And after that riotous, outrageous display, the crowd, which seemed to just surge bigger as the night went on, began heading to parties, bars, music venues, and/or just meander amidst the huge party out on the streets.
We took the camera and collected beads back to the flat after the parades - but turned right around and plunged back into the madness out there, not getting to sleep until after 4am (and even then the streets still teamed with the hard-core hedonists).
It was a night for leaving everything behind; for replacing your actual identity with your imagination and then living it - being as goofy and silly as you want to be! Everyone was smiling, laughing and enjoying themselves, and so it was mostly good clean(?) fun. There was only one stabbing on Bourbon St. - well after 3am - when the kiddies were safely in bed.
Happily, we woke up this morning to find the front door of our apartment building still intact.
Take a look at the picture!
Last year, a couple of drunks smashed it to pieces at about 4am. We know the time when it happened, because a reveler recorded the culprits on his cell-phone. However, as he had imbibed a few too many adult beverages, he went home and forgot all about it, until a few days later when he looked at his phone. It took us weeks to get that door fixed. So much of this town reminds us of Costa Rica…
What an amazing debut for a new Halloween Krewe for ’08 New Orleans.
Imagined, created and organized by Blaine Kerne, the creator of the famous Mardi Gras floats, the parade of 16 Krewe of Boo floats, a few of them featured here, as only pictures can truly communicate the reality(?), came past our flat on N. Peters St. to the howling approval of thousands of partygoers.
Everybody came out to see the spectacle - people of all ages, colors, and persuasions… Forget the economy and the politics, this is Halloween!
It was an awesome Mardi Gras-style Parade - huge floats, marching bands, dancing girls, trotting horses - moving past an enormous, festive crowd.
Thousands of people came down to the Quarter to see it, most dressed, or undressed, in every imaginable costume.
Everybody was there: Barack Obama, Sarah Palin, Hilary Clinton, the Duchess of Devonshire - all walking along congenially with assorted witches, ghouls and cartoon characters; everything you can imagine (and much you couldn’t possibly unless you were there…).
Despite many hours out on the streets, we never managed to find our ghostly friends who we were supposed to meet, but did manage to connect up with some new ones. Everyone is your friend at the Parade. And yes, the joyful shrieking reached a fever pitch when a sudden shout went out, “Here comes the Queen!” And now it was all hailing the Queen! The Queen! And from high up on the Queen’s Float, her entourage showered us with beads and plastic glasses.
And still more floats and dancing girls came…
It was still early in the evening when the Krewe of Boo finished winding past us, but the famous, and so much more irreverent, traditional street parade was just getting started up at Molly’s on Decatur St. And after that riotous, outrageous display, the crowd, which seemed to just surge bigger as the night went on, began heading to parties, bars, music venues, and/or just meander amidst the huge party out on the streets.
We took the camera and collected beads back to the flat after the parades - but turned right around and plunged back into the madness out there, not getting to sleep until after 4am (and even then the streets still teamed with the hard-core hedonists).
It was a night for leaving everything behind; for replacing your actual identity with your imagination and then living it - being as goofy and silly as you want to be! Everyone was smiling, laughing and enjoying themselves, and so it was mostly good clean(?) fun. There was only one stabbing on Bourbon St. - well after 3am - when the kiddies were safely in bed.
Happily, we woke up this morning to find the front door of our apartment building still intact.
Take a look at the picture!
Last year, a couple of drunks smashed it to pieces at about 4am. We know the time when it happened, because a reveler recorded the culprits on his cell-phone. However, as he had imbibed a few too many adult beverages, he went home and forgot all about it, until a few days later when he looked at his phone. It took us weeks to get that door fixed. So much of this town reminds us of Costa Rica…
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Why Swim Home to New Orleans?
When some say it will someday sink underwater like Atlantis! Thank God for the scuba gear!
When corruption is so widespread that…
…the local Navy intelligence is reputed to treat New Orleans like a 3rd world country (i.e. no sharing of info with local officials).
… voters keep reelecting the same guy that the feds found $90,000 in his refrigerator.
…ACORN is based here.
… corrupt councilmen refuse to name names of other corrupt councilmen because squealing on the mates is dishonorable.
…our Mayor is most famous for wise-cracks, like, my all time favorite – “I’m sick of helicopters overhead – I want to hear some jazz!”
Go to the Times-Picayune for the scandal du jour on the usual elected suspects. Hey! Kind of like the Scandal du Jour in La Nacion back in Costa Rica. Guess we all love what we know best!
Why swim home to New Orleans?
Well, where else would we go? From sea to shining sea there is no place like it! It’s not just the cuisine, music, art and entertainment to suit all tastes. It’s the people, the atmosphere, the joie du vivre and what else?
You shall just have to come on down and see for yourself! But remember, as a Costa Rican fan of jazz fest said of his more cynical friends – “If you come to the Big Easy looking for maggots, you will find them.”
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Hey, you with the Ponytail! Have you got ID?
That was the scowling bartender yelling at me, as I took my first sip from the glass of wine that Carolyn had just bought me. That was it. She was serious. We were getting kicked out of the bar!
What could I say? All I could do was laugh, get up from my seat and walk out of there - along with about 15 other Obiters. We hastily poured our drinks in plastic cups and walked out en masse.
Now, I might have been wearing a girlish ponytail but, believe me, I, and everybody else in our party, looked - if maybe not acted - the 50 something that we all are! And yes, it was hysterical being tossed out of a bar for not having ID…
The group had dwindled somewhat from the big crowd that had gathered earlier at the Ohm Lounge in the Royal Charles Hotel for our first cocktail. This was a big night. The Grand & Secret Order of the Obituary Cocktail was embarking on a night of bar-hopping along the St. Charles Streetcar line. It was a large, raucous crowd that queued up for the Streetcar, unfinished cocktails in hand of course, as we all piled aboard, to the quizzical looks of commuters and tourists alike. I sat next to a woman sporting a martini glass tiara, a bit bleary-eyed, after just finishing her birthday lunch at Galatoire’s Restaurant. We all know that Friday lunches at Galatoire’s so easily turn into all-day affairs, and it was now well after 6pm...
The birthday girl had heard of us Obiters, but had never seen the crowd in action until watching us climb aboard that Streetcar and, a few minutes later, honor her with a rousing rendition of ‘Happy Birthday to You’. Well, we managed to make good friends with everybody on board by the time we got off at our first stop - The Column’s Hotel - a beautiful place, where many of our crowd decided to settle in for the rest of the night.
Thus, we were far fewer in number when we departed an hour or so later for our next stop - Delachaise - and then lost more of the crowd when we departed later on for another Streetcar ride down to The Avenue Pub. This is where the absurdity really began. You can’t make this stuff up. I mentioned before, that about fifteen of us rolled in there, and were welcomed immediately by the bartender with the warm greeting, “You’ll need ID to get served in here! This is a video-poker bar”! We hooted at her joke and some of us sat down, while the others lined up to get served. We never carry ID with us around town, but we soon realized that the bartender wasn’t just flattering us or joking! She would not serve anyone - not even the really old wrinklies - without proper ID. I saw Gerry arguing with her up there, to no avail, but we finally got drinks from others in our party who did have ID and who kindly bought us our badly needed libations. But no, just as I took my first sip, she roused the entire bar when she yelled and pointed at me, “Hey, you with the Ponytail…!”
Well, we all found it just hysterical, getting thrown out of The Avenue Pub, and so remained in good humor (the prior beverages helped, of course). After all, in New Orleans, it’s perfectly legal to walk down the street with cocktails in hand (in plastic, not glass) so that’s exactly what we did, laughing at the whole thing and talking to the lawyers in the group - can bars legally throw out ‘senior citizens’ for not having ID? All our (admittedly not very sharp at that point in the evening…) legal minds could do was laugh at it some more. So we ended up over at Zea’s for a bite to eat. But those of us with plastic cups were not allowed in there either - tossed out of two bars within 10 minutes! Is that a record…?
It was obviously time to catch the Streetcar back to the French Quarter, where all is allowed - and then some. So we ate ravenously at Felipe’s Taqueria (excellent Margaritas to boot) and went home contentedly to bed.
P.S. Got an email today from somebody who was with us that night, about how everybody was meeting up at the Kirk apartment for Halloween. Apparently, after my third cocktail, I’d invited the whole gang over to watch the ‘Krewe of Boo’ parade down the street past our place! Better go buy some crackers and scrounge up a costume…
What could I say? All I could do was laugh, get up from my seat and walk out of there - along with about 15 other Obiters. We hastily poured our drinks in plastic cups and walked out en masse.
Now, I might have been wearing a girlish ponytail but, believe me, I, and everybody else in our party, looked - if maybe not acted - the 50 something that we all are! And yes, it was hysterical being tossed out of a bar for not having ID…
The group had dwindled somewhat from the big crowd that had gathered earlier at the Ohm Lounge in the Royal Charles Hotel for our first cocktail. This was a big night. The Grand & Secret Order of the Obituary Cocktail was embarking on a night of bar-hopping along the St. Charles Streetcar line. It was a large, raucous crowd that queued up for the Streetcar, unfinished cocktails in hand of course, as we all piled aboard, to the quizzical looks of commuters and tourists alike. I sat next to a woman sporting a martini glass tiara, a bit bleary-eyed, after just finishing her birthday lunch at Galatoire’s Restaurant. We all know that Friday lunches at Galatoire’s so easily turn into all-day affairs, and it was now well after 6pm...
The birthday girl had heard of us Obiters, but had never seen the crowd in action until watching us climb aboard that Streetcar and, a few minutes later, honor her with a rousing rendition of ‘Happy Birthday to You’. Well, we managed to make good friends with everybody on board by the time we got off at our first stop - The Column’s Hotel - a beautiful place, where many of our crowd decided to settle in for the rest of the night.
Thus, we were far fewer in number when we departed an hour or so later for our next stop - Delachaise - and then lost more of the crowd when we departed later on for another Streetcar ride down to The Avenue Pub. This is where the absurdity really began. You can’t make this stuff up. I mentioned before, that about fifteen of us rolled in there, and were welcomed immediately by the bartender with the warm greeting, “You’ll need ID to get served in here! This is a video-poker bar”! We hooted at her joke and some of us sat down, while the others lined up to get served. We never carry ID with us around town, but we soon realized that the bartender wasn’t just flattering us or joking! She would not serve anyone - not even the really old wrinklies - without proper ID. I saw Gerry arguing with her up there, to no avail, but we finally got drinks from others in our party who did have ID and who kindly bought us our badly needed libations. But no, just as I took my first sip, she roused the entire bar when she yelled and pointed at me, “Hey, you with the Ponytail…!”
Well, we all found it just hysterical, getting thrown out of The Avenue Pub, and so remained in good humor (the prior beverages helped, of course). After all, in New Orleans, it’s perfectly legal to walk down the street with cocktails in hand (in plastic, not glass) so that’s exactly what we did, laughing at the whole thing and talking to the lawyers in the group - can bars legally throw out ‘senior citizens’ for not having ID? All our (admittedly not very sharp at that point in the evening…) legal minds could do was laugh at it some more. So we ended up over at Zea’s for a bite to eat. But those of us with plastic cups were not allowed in there either - tossed out of two bars within 10 minutes! Is that a record…?
It was obviously time to catch the Streetcar back to the French Quarter, where all is allowed - and then some. So we ate ravenously at Felipe’s Taqueria (excellent Margaritas to boot) and went home contentedly to bed.
P.S. Got an email today from somebody who was with us that night, about how everybody was meeting up at the Kirk apartment for Halloween. Apparently, after my third cocktail, I’d invited the whole gang over to watch the ‘Krewe of Boo’ parade down the street past our place! Better go buy some crackers and scrounge up a costume…
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