In fact lots of times it’s pretty damn good.
I know I tend to bitch and moan a lot, and even though my lunch at Mandina’s did fall through at the last minute, I had a damn fine weekend.
Friday French Quarter Festival and riding the Triumph around the city all afternoon with Cassidy.
Saturday brunch at Elizabeth’s (Eggs Florentine…creamed spinach, potatoes, poached eggs and hollandaise with the best fried oysters I’ve had all season), then Gina’s birthday dinner at Manale’s (way more oysters at the oyster bar than we paid for, then I had the ribeye which was splendiferous).
Sunday, I took Liam over to the weekly music workshop at Tipitina’s, where he got to jam onstage with the New Orleans Saxophone Quartet, and where I got confirmation that he knows enough about the sax to play along with the big folks, with a little coaching:
and then found out much to my surprise that he fucking jams on the drums when somebody asks him to “just lay down a groove”:
We celebrated his jazz debut by hitting opening day at Hansen’s (strawberry with condensed milk for me…it’s a tradition) and right after I took this picture:
the crowds who’d been in line behind me came out looking all sadfaced, and we find out that the ancient motor on the custom sno-bliz machine had burnt out, and they were closing. I got the last sno-ball. Judge Hansen says he’ll hopefully have it fixed by next Thursday so cross your fingers. Sorry. It was a really good sno-ball, too. Heh heh.