New Orleans, Part 1: The road there

Since it’s going to be a scorching three-day weekend, I’ll be inside dividing my Saints and Sinners/New Orleans photos into several posts, just in case you’re not out spending your tax incentive checks or whatever they’re called, or cooking over a grill, or sharing time with friends, or otherwise living it up on the holiday.

Lynne has promised me that she’s going to spend much of her weekend here figuring out what my yard needs. I think it needs Tommy Clyde, myself.

Somewhere on I-10 East on the way to New Orleans,

I turned the wheel over to the boy with the blue hair.

I’m not a backseat driver and besides, it’s no big deal to go seventy-five.

It’s only five miles over the speed limit, after all.

Okay, fifteen miles over, but who’s counting? Look!

A bridge! A bridge over the Big Muddy. The Mighty Mississippi. Old Man River…

Hope you got a glimpse of that as we whizzed by it. On to New Orleans, where…

For crying out loud, David Puterbaugh got here how many hours before me, and this chandelier is still intact?!?

No one’s really sure how Famous Author Rob Byrnes guarded my peach tea and cell phone so successfully when HE HAS NO EYES! (He says so himself.)

FARB has no eyes, but at least he’s not dressed in a plant. Like Marika.

Something was wrong with me, because the only other photo I took the night of our arrival was this one you’ve already seen, of Greg Herren and Mark G. Harris pretending they are friends.

More to come…