And it’s Not Even Monday

Vaughan's, on Dauphine Street in the Bywater, in New Orleans. Just like on TV.

Vaughan's, on Dauphine Street in the Bywater, in New Orleans. Just like on TV.

Early this past November I went down to New Orleans for a few days. This was my first visit down there since the Dawn of Man, which I place around 1980. I don’t remember much about that prior trip – I had no money, slept on the floor in churches that put up Mardi Gras travelers by night, and carried my backpack all through the days because the bus station lockers were all full. (Apparently this Mardi Gras thing was a pretty popular party, who knew.) At the end of the visit, I hitched home, and had adventures.

This time there were airplanes involved, and I had a place to stay, and friends to visit. I went down with my friend Organization Man. As soon as we got into town we set up station at d.b.a. on Frenchman Street, as one will, and I met some people at the bar, as one will. Soon Organization was making insistent noises about heading off into the night to go somewhere else. Somewhere else? I got beers here, Man, and girls.

One taxi ride later we are squeezed in at Vaughan’s, hearing Kermit Ruffins and the Barbecue Swingers play their late set, eating Kermit’s red beans and rice from the pots in the back room. Just like on Treme.

About Linus

The man behind the curtain. But couldn't we get a nicer curtain?
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