Mardi Gras 2017

This may be the strangest place at which I've written a post for this blog.  It's just past 10 p.m. and I'm sitting upstairs in the corner, by myself, at Igor's, a 24-hour bar on St. Charles Avenue.  I'm not sure anyone knows I'm here, because my table is cloistered against the wall behind me, the railing to my left and the stairway to my right.  It's a secluded spot in a bar that's growing progressively louder as Mardi Gras revelers straggle in from a day of parade watching.

I'm drinking a Lagunitas IPA and listening to an eclectic mix of songs played on the jukebox.  Hip hop songs with Bush and Ozzy Osbourne mixed in for good measure.

Jude and I arrive in New Orleans with the boys last night.  She decided, and I agreed, it was time for them to experience Mardi Gras, up close and personal.  We're staying at Hotel Indigo, in the heart of the parade route down St. Charles Avenue (one of my favorite streets in New Orleans).  As an added bonus, Igor's is 2 doors down from Hotel Indigo.  Perfect for me.

We saw the tail end of a parade last night as we checked into the hotel.  This morning, I got a 3 mile run in, showered, then met Jude, the boys, her parents and her aunt, Peggy, at our spot across from the hotel.  There, we watched float after float (and what seemed like and endless parade of high school marching bands) in Iris, then Tuck, and waved our hands in the air begging for beads, stuffed animals, footballs and all sorts of trinkets to be thrown our way.

The highlight, or lowlight, for me was when I was hit in the side of the face and head with a large set of silver beads.  The force of the blow almost knocked me out my chair.  The beads broke and a couple of guys behind me leaned down to see if I was okay.  That, my friends, is Mardi Gras.  A little dangerous but fun, surrounded by strangers who are just friends you haven't met yet.

It's been a while since we've been to New Orleans.  Too long, really.  As I sipped a Lagunitas IPA mid-morning at the bar while while waiting of the bartender to make Jude's Bloody Mary (from Igor's, of course), I was reminded how much I love New Orleans.  It was a beautiful - perfect - day outside as I watched floats rumbling by the front window of Igor's, on the other side of the street.  With my family securely ensconced on the corner, I paused for a few minutes to take a breath and appreciate how lucky I am - how lucky we all are - in many ways.

New Orleans always seems to make me feel that way - happy to be alive and happy to be in New Orleans.