The AP reports that neither well-trained FBI agents nor the nation’s top reporters take good notes. At the Libby trial, everyone is struggling to make sense of their own notes. Only the legendary Bob Woodward has no doubts. He taped all his interviews.
In most of the world, today is Monday. And tomorrow is just Tuesday. Here in New Orleans, today is Lundi Gras and tomorrow is Mardi Gras. It’s been an endless stream of parties and parades since Friday. Friends have been arriving all weekend. We stand around, drink cheap beer, eat crawfish and catch-up on what’s happened since last year.
I love parades as much as anyone I know, but by the time the super krewes start rolling on Sunday I lose interest. Too many crowds. I catch too few beads. At this point, it’s all about spending time with folks we know.
In case you didn’t know, Saturday is Krewe du Vieux. I just got some super secret shots from inside their den. Here’s a peak of what we’ll be laughing at tomorrow.
Many New Orleanians are coming home in coffins. People may not be able to renovate their houses. They may not be able to find a job in the city. But they want to be buried here when they die.
My friend Katy Reckdahl had a lovely piece in the Picayune last Sunday about the number of evacuees who could only return after they passed away.
The bands are on the streets. When I sit down at my desk in the afternoon, I can hear the horns and the drums of a marching band. It sounds like they’re down the block. I grab my camera and run out the door, but I can’t find them. The music must be echoing through the neighborhood.
It’s been tough getting the city’s marching bands back in shape for Mardi Gras. Many of the most experienced band directors never returned. This month in OffBeat, I wrote about the state of music education in New Orleans. It doesn’t appear to be online, so you’ll have to come to New Orleans and get a copy yourself.