Dear City of New Orleans,
I had the pleasure of visiting you this past weekend, and let me just say this: You are worth the hype. The French Quarter, the people, the food, the action, the music, the chaos, the smell, the art – are all electric in their intensity. Quite frankly, when I am with you, you make me more fun. Where else can I wear plastic beads with wild abandon, dance in the streets, sing for no reason, eat pralines for breakfast and drink hurricanes instead of wine?
There is probably no place else on earth like Bourbon Street in the early morning (which I know because I went out for an early morning walk and not because I was up all night. I’m not that fun). You see, during those few hours when the party on Bourbon Street ends, a flurry of trucks appear and quickly clean the street – erasing all evidence of the night before so the party can start all over again.
And sometimes, especially as a parent, it’s nice to wake up with a clean slate and get a “do-over”. But you probably already know all of that, the same way you know I’ll be back to visit you again.
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