xtcian

erin go braggadocio

3/5/04

Austin, TX

Royal St., French Quarter, 8:43am

I mean, you have to hand it to New Orleans. Like New York, it just keeps working despite all the crime, accidents, infamy, debauchery and an infrastructure from the 18th century. This morning, as we were packing the car at 8:30am, a drunken parade of young Irishmen filled Royal Street with music, beads, and shouts of joy. No, it's not Mardi Gras, or even St. Patrick's Day. They were simply showing solidarity with the Sicilians who are having their St. Anthony's Feast day later. Seems the Sicilians and the Irish were bonded through their various famines, and now assuage their ancestors by getting drunk whenever they possibly can.

Tessa after being feted by the Irish

We drove straight through the heart of Texas today, stopping in Cut and Shoot (yes, that's the town's name – see here) to visit Tessa's grandmother Nonnie, who rules the roost at the Conroe Nursing Home. Just as cliché would have it, the theme from "Matlock" was blaring on the TV at 115 decibels as we walked in. Must use that for best-selling screenplay taking place in nursing home.

Powered by my last adenosine-triphosphates and the backwash of a Code Red Mountain Dew, we drifted into Austin, where I hope to slumber, as I have, to paraphrase the Beastie Boys, not slept since Brooklyn.