Day 13 in NOLA

Today was originally supposed to be a Habitat day, but based on yesterday's disorganization and based even more so on the fact that I had a bike that needed fixing and (who am I kidding?) the fact that I was out dancing until all hours, I spent the day taking care of business and taking it easy. 75 and sunny plus humidity was also a reason to just chill and enjoy a bland day.

I took my bike to the folks at Bayou Bicycles, and they fixed me up. Apart from that, I decided to take a random drive. I headed east, navigated some detours, traversed the Upper 9, the Lower 9, Arabi, St. Bernard (where I spotted "St. Bernard - Stay Positive" the single most amazing official signage I have ever seen), and Chalmette.

In Chalmette, I had lunch at Today's Ketch, where, despite having a decent lunch, I made up my mind to avoid po' boys (unless I head back to Parkway). My waitress convinced me that I needed a fried shrimp po' boy, and it was good (the shrimp were small fry, but the breading was interesting, and, for the first time, spicy). But I just can't for the life of me understand why I would ever again order fried seafood on a sandwich. It's so bizarre. I mean, fried seafood is amazing, don't get me wrong. And I will eat more of it. But why smush it up in a baguette (or a pistolette, which is what they use here, and which are slightly different, in most cases lighter and airier than a baguette)? It's fine, it's ok, but it doesn't really make sense to me, especially since fried shrimp and oysters are eminent finger foods.

It's beyond me.

Tonight I went out to see Kid Merv & All that Jazz at Sidney's Saloon. It was a quiet show, unlike last night, with virtually no dancing. The show was fine, if you like that sort of thing, but it's the kind of jazz with lots of solos descending into a cacophony of sound. It's not really my kind of jazz. I've been amazed and beyond happy to have found that a solid community exists of more old school straight up brass (with winds and percussion) that has a solid beat and a melody you (read: I) can dance to.

So despite my decision to Habitat again tomorrow... it's going to go to next week. There's a jazz funeral tomorrow. Treme will be playing. I will be there. In the second line.