Art of the Odd » New Orleans http://www.artoftheodd.com With apologies to Delia Deetz, "This is my blog, and it is dangerous!" Thu, 15 Jul 2010 21:47:18 +0000 en hourly 1 http://wordpress.org/?v=3.0 And so the Saints won the Super Bowl… http://www.artoftheodd.com/and-so-the-saints-won-the-super-bowl/855 http://www.artoftheodd.com/and-so-the-saints-won-the-super-bowl/855#comments Mon, 08 Feb 2010 04:28:18 +0000 ChiaLynn http://www.artoftheodd.com/?p=855 On my first trip to New Orleans, in the early ’90s, I sat at the Cafe Du Monde sipping cafe au lait and listening to an old jazz trumpeter accompany himself on “When the Saints Win the Super Bowl” (to the tune of “When the Saints Go Marching In,” of course). It was played for humor – the Saints had a decent team at that point (the mighty Wikipedia tells me they made the playoffs in 1990, and won their first division title in 1991), but it was still clear that this man didn’t expect his beloved team to take home the big trophy anytime soon.

I watched the game tonight with a bunch of geeks and bellydancers, at the home of a New Orleans expat, and I kept hearing that old man sing. Wherever he is, I sure hope he saw every play.

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]]> http://www.artoftheodd.com/and-so-the-saints-won-the-super-bowl/855/feed 1 Goin’ to New Orleans http://www.artoftheodd.com/goin-to-new-orleans/28 http://www.artoftheodd.com/goin-to-new-orleans/28#comments Tue, 25 Jul 2006 23:17:03 +0000 ChiaLynn http://www.artoftheodd.com/goin-to-new-orleans/28 Last week, I had an unusually vivid dream about a Duran Duran concert. (I mean that the dream was unusually vivid — not that it was unusually vivid as dreams about Duran Duran concerts go. In fact, I think it’s the first dream I’ve ever had about a Duran Duran concert…) Anyway, as a child of the ’80s, who watched Sing Blue Silver again and again (and liked to replay the bit where John Taylor sticks his tousled head out of his hotel room door at 9 AM and says “No, go way. Too early. Go away,” because he was just too damned cute in his pineapple PJs), I’ve wanted to go to a Duran Duran concert since I was 14. Okay, 12. And I never got to. Then, of course, they broke up and I thought I’d never get a chance, and then they got back together but I’d just started a new job and had no money when they came to LA. But the dream (in which Nick Rhodes made eye contact with me, John Taylor sang to me and Simon Le Bon tried to seduce me) moved me to visit their website. And, where should they be playing next but in New Orleans, at the Voodoo Music Experience? With the Red Hot Chili Peppers, no less? And the Flaming Lips?

I spent two weeks in New Orleans in the early ’90s, and I’ve wanted to go back ever since. After Katrina, it became even more important to me. And to see Duran Duran (and several other favorite bands) in this, one of my favorite cities? “Damn,” I thought. “I wish I could go.”

And then I thought, “Well, why can’t I?”

“NovySan,” I asked. “Would you like to go to New Orleans the weekend before Halloween?”

“Yes!” he said.

I bought the festival tickets the next day. I’ll book the flight and hotel just as soon as we know how long we’re staying.

So, John — from an awkward teenager who may once have sent you a gold chain she’d worn every day for months (I honestly can’t remember if I ever put that chain into an envelope or not) — thanks for the push I needed to get me back to New Orleans. And Simon — you’re still not getting any.

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