The French Quarter was at its best. The chaos of Mardi Gras is a beautiful and wonderful thing, precisely because of the disorganized chaos of a million different kinds of parties happening all at once. This was different, and a thousand times better. It was the jubilation of Mardi Gras, but it was like our own (public) private party. A million people celebrating one common cause, and all wearing the same costume. BLACK AND GOLD PATROL!!
I've never seen so many happy people in one place. Move over, Disneyworld...
This guy is my hero. I can't imagine being on crutches in the French Quarter this weekend. Actually, yes I can. Broken knees suck.
The beauty of complete strangers hugging and kissing on the street never gets old to me. Post-game, on Frenchmen St. some guy grabbed my friend and starting screaming and hugging him. Then they grabbed each other's arms and started jumping up and down screaming, "WHO DAT!! WHO DAT!!"
"Earl," I said, "Who was that?"
He said, "I don't know. But I feel closer to him now..."
It was a beautiful thing. I myself have been picked up and spun around by so many random dudes this weekend I'm still dizzy. These two were walking past each other and started shrieking and hugging. For no apparent reason. Oh yeah, wait a minute. The Saints were about to play in the Superbowl!
The best part is, I hadn't even been back in town for twenty-four hours yet. What a welcome home party!