beats and jazz at maison on frenchman street

last week, i found myself in new orleans for exactly 22 hours.  per my flight itinerary, it was 23 hours, but that sneaky daylight savings time robbed me of an hour sometime during my two hours of “sleep” before i had to head to the airport.  i was in town for my sister-in-law’s bachelorette party, and fell in love all over again with the crazy city (city? does that even adequately describe the crazy hodgepodge that new orleans is?).  it has that vibe that i tried to explain a couple of months ago, that slaps you in the face the moment you leave the airport.  it’s poor but vibrant, seemingly down and up at the same time.

jazz, tourists, poverty. #neworleans

the 22 hours included a mix of typical new orleans events that may not be so normal elsewhere.  al fresco jazz brunch with morning bloodies and crawfish étouffée.  a second line wedding parade through the french quarter.  palm readings.

a second line wedding parade through the french quarter

time for brunch and bloodies

meeting adrian, an artist in the midst of his self-proclaimed mid-life crisis, with his enterprising dog who encourages his customers to “buy more art.”  watching hipsters practice a strange yet hypnotizing mix of yoga and acrobatics in jackson square.  enterprising break dancing and eclectic locals.

buy more art, people. specifically, from this guy.

mesmerized by these guys at jackson square

fried alligator and fried shrimp po’boys and abita beer.  creole mansions on esplanade avenue.  jazz on frenchman street, but most importantly the hybrid jazz/r&b/hip-hop that i fell in love with last summer at maison.  beads and cobblestones and lights and laughter.  but mainly, all that jazz.

the slick skillet serenaders

french quarter still life

twenty-two hours isn’t much, but it was enough to get under my skin a bit before returning to the real world.

bright day in the quarter

the daily french quarter clean-up