Ever get the holiday blues? You’ve wrapped up the Thanksgiving and Christmas festivities, and while there are exciting possibilities for the new year, there’s that inevitable letdown. The “what now?” lull. I used to fall victim to this…then I moved to New Orleans. It’s difficult to be too blue with King cakes filling every grocery store, bakery, and even some boutiques beginning the 6th of January, Mardi Gras parades rolling in February, and French Quarter Fest and Jazz Fest brightening our (sometimes rainy) days just a few weeks later. I come alive during the first few months of each year. Last Sunday evening, I stood in the front row at the Acura Stage, while the incredibly talented Trombone Shorty (go see him if you can!) brought the most wonderful time of the year to a close for me and thousands of other festers. And for me, it is now that the funk creeps in. The “now what?” begins. I start feeling a little blue…not navy or even royal, but at least a little aquamarine. Sky? Maybe baby blue. I try to cheer myself up with thoughts of crawfish and po-boy festivals, hanging out on Royal Street, crazy races, and other enjoyable events that are certain to take place. It is New Orleans, after all, and there’s always something entertaining, if not completely bizarre, going on somewhere. But my two main events are over for the year, and yes, I’m a little sad. I’ve decided to focus on experiencing some things I haven’t tried in my fifteen years here. Checking out some restaurants where I have yet to dine…and there are many. Grabbing my camera and checking out a crazy swamp or voodoo tour. Maybe even exploring a museum or two, although I’m not very museum-y. (Ask me how to see The Louvre in under 30 minutes.) I am sure I will discover some new gems in the city that I love, but for now I’m just going to spend a few days mourning the end of the season that brings me so much joy…those four months that make me absolutely certain I will never want to live anywhere else. I think it’s time to go hunt for a meat pie or some crawfish bread. Or maybe there’s a stray King cake out there somewhere. A little comfort food couldn’t hurt, right? And hey, if I strike out, Fat Tuesday is just a short 300 days away.
|What I think is the most beautiful of all the Mardi Gras floats.|
|Fat Tuesday with my fellow parade lover…and boy, do I look tired!|
|Willie Nelson on a rainy day at Jazzfest…still sounded great at 80!|
|Ben Harper…one of my favorites.|