I had an idea this afternoon, and have built out a “twitter app” that does just this.

All people have to do is follow the account, and if they choose, have it notify them via text message of the checkpoint. It won’t have the location – just a link to the checkpoint, but with so many people having internet capable phones, I think it’ll be just fine.

I might add some sort of Facebook cross-posting, but I figure one person will then put the info there, then others will ‘like’ or whatever, so I’m leaving it out for now. So for you New Orleans twitter users, go follow @NO_dui.

Anyways, outside of the usual High Lifes, here were my comps:

 
Hibiki – “A harmonious blend of handcrafted select specially aged whiskies”. Not really a comp, but a sample from the Tales of the Cocktail. Not bad, but the overall impression was that while we made the swallowing motions, that didn’t actually happen. It seemed to evaporate in our mouth. Last time I checked, half the reason why I drank whiskey was the taste. The other half was for what it did once in my belly and then bloodstream.

 

 
Abita SOS – A Charitable Pilsner. Pilsner my ass – this beer was hoppier than an IPA. For most that would be fine, but to me and to Bailey who shared the drink with me, it was bad due to the fact that we hate IPAs and hoppy beers in general. The nicest parts of this beer were the charitable donation to oil-y stuffs and the scrimpin’ boots on the bottle.

Sorry Abita, I, er we, tried.

One thing was really reinforced though: I can’t go anywhere without knowing people. The groom’s grandfather grew up with my grandfather, and the groom’s cousins are my sister’s husband’s cousins.

Small world.

When we bought the house, there were two missing elements of what most would consider to be the “classic New Orleans style” that I really wanted: cast iron vents on the underside of the roof/balcony, and louvered shutters. We installed three vents in the front to give the front attic airflow a while ago, and I’ll hopefully be installing a pair in the back next week. Today, the bottom two sets of the shutters are being fit, having the hinges installed, and will head off to be primed and painted “shutter green”. The three pairs upstairs are a day behind.

 
These suckers will not only cut out a lot of the harsh afternoon sun/heat and save us electricity, but add tremendously to the value of our house and its “curbside appeal”. At the end of the day though, I care more about the aesthetic and how happy it’ll make me feel to just look at them.

And for what they’re costing, they better make me happy. Just kidding.

Today we lived “American style”. What exactly is that? I’m not really sure, but here’s been our day today:

• Sleep in
• Beers at noon
• Napping the afternoon away, with the Superbowl on the TV in the background
• Hot dogs from a fast food chain
• Watching fireworks from our balcony

 

 

*Note how Bea and I took these pictures at apparently the exact same moment, and uploaded them independently of each other. Uncanny.

Happy Birthday America. I don’t know what I’d do without you.

Drinks and breakfast at 9, march at 10. We are again fortunate to have Panorama Brass Band tour with us throughout the day, and in order to cover the cost of these minstrels and the early morning feast, we ask for a $25 contribution – a paltry sum for such wonderful entertainment.

Hope to see you reveling in the streets tomorrow at one point or another. Below is the invite / route, and we’ll be stopping at the following bars, in order: R-Bar, Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop, Jackson Square, Harry’s Corner, Molly’s at the Market, and the Spotted Cat.

Each year, we seem to grow, both in numbers and in fun – so if you and yours are looking for Mardi Gras Day plans, please come join us and ramble!

M: ya, after the game we all poured into our cars and drove home to shoot off some fire works
we didn’t want to walk the extra half-block to go into the big open field, so we decided that it would be fine to shoot them off in the neutral ground right under the power lines
P is lighting the fuse for one of the shells and I run into the street to stop the approaching car
D: oh lord
M: right as he lights it, I realize that this car I’m stopping is a cop
the cop gets on his bull horn and says “hey. hey you. you guys with the illegal fireworks… who dat!”
and drove off
I *love* this city

1. Every time they mention hurricane Katrina, drink 1
2. If they show pictures of the City of New Orleans right after Katrina, drink 1
3. Every time they say how much the Saints mean to the City of New Orleans , drink 1
4. Every time the words “tragedy”, “flood”, or “devastation” are used, drink 1
5. Every time they talk about how good Reggie Bush was in college, drink 3
6. If they show Kim Kardashian in the stands, drink 5
7. Every time they show a picture of Reggie Bush with a bat or say “bringing the wood” drink for 5 seconds.
8. Every time Reggie Bush gets negative yardage trying to run around in the backfield a bunch and outrun the defense, drink 1 and turn to the person next to you and say “I told you Vince Young should have won the Heisman”
9. Every time Reggie Bush gets up and flexes his arms in that pose he likes to do, drink 1
10. If they mention Tim Tebow for any reason, funnel a beer
11. Every time they say that “it’s destiny for the Saints to win” drink 1
12. If they show footage of Katrina survivors at the Superdome, take a shot of cheap liquor
13. If they call Saints fans the most passionate fans in football, drink 1
14. If they say that the Saints, Saints fans, or the City of New Orleans “deserve” a Superbowl victory, drink 1
15. Every time they say how good of a story the Saints are, drink 1
16. If Jeremy Shockey pretends to be hurt after dropping a pass, drink 2
17. If they mention the Saints beating the Falcons in 2006 in the first game after Katrina in the Superdome, drink 5 and remember that we are still a better football team with better fans.
18. Every time they compare hurricane Katrina to the Haiti earthquake, funnel a beer and yell “bullshit!”
19. Every time they mention Drew Brees as the Mardi Gras king, drink 1
20. Every time they show Archie Manning, drink 1, and mention how bad he sucked. If they show old footage of him on the Saints, drink 5. If they mention how tough of a decision it was for him as for whom to cheer for, drink 10.
21. Every time they show a saints fan yelling “Who dat!” Or a sign/shirt saying the same, drink 1.
22. If they show Chris Paul at the game, drink 1 and mention to someone how much better he is than Devon Williams.
23. If they show former Mayor Ray Nagin, drink 5 and then punch someone in the face

And I took this photo today, and proceeded to quickly devour the subject matter.
It tasted like victory.

 
Lemon and apple are by far my favorites, but how could I possibly turn down a Chocolate City Hu-Dat?

Well, maybe not New Orleans, but definitely a Quarter / Marigny / Bywater / 9th Ward institution. He’s like the ice cream man, but nowhere near as annoying or tooth-rotting. I love hearing him drive around the area, selling fresh foods with his unmistakable and unique cadence.

And an extra little touch on the video – the closing song is the title track from New Orleans Jazz Vipers’ album “Hope You’re Comin’ Back“. The oldest daughter of the guitarist will “sing” along with Mr. Okra if she hears him driving down the street, or will sing with you if you start mimicking him.

It’s insanely cute.

Now, repeat after me: I got oranges and bananas …

——– Original Message ——–
Subject: Who Dat
Date: Thu, 28 Jan 2010 12:21:42 -0600
From: John Saunders <audubon253 @cox.net>
To: <roger.Goodell2@nfl.net>

Commissioner Goodell, I hear the NFL thinks it owns the rights to the phrase Who Dat, as well as any use of the ubiquitous Fleur-de-lis:

Let’s begin with the fleur-de-lis, sir. It is, quite literally, an iconic representation of the Lily flower, and it has been in existence in French monarchy since at least the 12th century. At that time it became the heraldic emblem of the Capetian Kings of France, who claimed it was initially adopted at the time of the Frankish King Clovis 1 in 493. Since then the fleur-de-lis has been incorporated into the coat of arms or the flags of many European countries, including Spain, Luxembourg and the House of Bourbon. It has ALSO been used worldwide, appeared on postage stamps and, in North America, it has long been associated with areas settled by the French, such as Quebec, Louisville, St. Louis, Louisville and – yes sir – Louisiana, of which I presume you are aware New Orleans is a part.

When the Saints came into existence in 1967, it was normal and natural that the creators would want to adopt a symbol representative of that heritage. What could be more natural than the fleur-de-lis? It’s was and still is virtually everywhere throughout the region (hence my use of the word ubiquitous). But I said adopt, not co-opt. No one has a right to or ownership of the fleur-de-lis and I dare say anyone foolish enough to attempt to register it as a trademark, trade name, service mark or any other “protected” icon would be summarily laughed back into the bayou. And if, for argument’s sake anyone could own the word or the icon, what next? Will the NFL also claim, by virtue of the awarding of the franchise in 1967, that the name New Orleans is also the property of the NFL, issuing cease and desist orders to anyone marketing anything with those words in the colors old gold and black?

No, Mr. Commissioner, it’s time for you to have a come-to-Jesus-talk with your legal counsel and impress upon them the folly of claiming any rights of any kind in our beloved and historic symbol, the fleur-de-lis. Should the NFL try to pursue this course, I dare say you will find that there’s as much fight in Louisianans in general as there is in our wonderful Saints. You will think you’re in a real dogfight, sir.

Then let’s look at Who Dat. I could as easily ask you “Who Dat say dey gonna take our phrase? Who Dat? Who Dat?” Do you also claim ownership to the word Crunk, merely because it is now directly and principally associated with that fervor that breaks out in the Dome at every NFL game? Will all the fans have to remain in their seats and resist boogieing to the sounds, lest they infringe on some right the NFL thinks it has acquired? Tell that to the Ying Yang Twins and see how far you get.

Who Dat has been used in this region, in various settings and for various reasons, as far back as the 19th century. Though many claim something to do with its creation, it was being used by a regional high school in the 1970’s, repeated in college football settings thereafter, and was ultimately linked to the Saints in the early 80’s. If the NFL could establish any right in the phrase – which I suggest it cannot do – the NFL has nevertheless been silent for over 25 years while the phrase has been repeatedly used by any and all, in relation to the Saints as well as in relation to things that have absolutely nothing to do with the Saints. Again, Mr. Commissioner, to claim any proprietary right in the term is foolhardy. Next thing, you’ll be wanting everyone to pay a license fee to ask “Where Y’at?” or “How’s ya mama ‘n ‘em?”

Commissioner Goodell, many flags have flown over our city, and many nationalities have flourished here. But all who would assume management of our town have realized that while there may be cross-town rivalries, ethnic differences, economic jealousies and partisan bickering, when anything – ANYTHING – held sacred is challenged, the people of New Orleans become as one. The British learned it in 1815, and Rite Aid learned it when it assumed our beloved K & B drugstores and ceased offering Coke products for sale. Rite Aid may still be “Pepsi-exclusive” in other parts of the country, but we, the people of New Orleans, let Rite Aid know in no uncertain terms that if Coke was not available at Rite Aid, it most certainly was at Walgreen’s. In less than a year, Rite Aid reversed itself. Never underestimate the power of New Orleanians to wreak havoc on a corporate interloper telling us what we may or may not use.

This effort to claim any right in either the phrase or the icon is really a very wrong step. You’re tilting at a very large windmill and you will become an irritant to a populous you really don’t want to irritate. Perhaps, in that sense, you should consider the lyrics from the song: “Don’t you know little fool, you’ll never win; Why not use your mentality, come on step up to reality…”

Reality is, you have no right in either, and it’s time to drop the claim.

John C. Saunders, Jr.
253 Audubon Boulevard
New Orleans, LA 70125
(504) 866-3756