No Rest for the Weary
I was just beginning to be able to reflect on the T-Bois Blues Festival that we attended last weekend, not to mention how my job had started really ramping up.
Cindy and Skye had driven up to Atlanta for an ortho visit and the screening of "42" and would get back Friday evening.
But the French Quarter Festival was one that we shouldn't miss. At least that's what more than a dozen or so people told us. Plus friends from LA were hosting a cocktail party where a bunch of other LA film gypsies would be at, so it seemed like a trip down to New Orleans would be a definite maybe.
By Thursday afternoon, we all agreed that we had done enough festivals and really could use the weekend to recuperate.
Friday found us getting ready to head down the following morning, with the only goal as far as the festival was concerned was to make it to the World Championship Crawfish Eating Contest.
I'm always drawn to the odd niche contests and happenings, and so while the free music is the obvious draw for most to the French Quarter Festival, I was drawn to the Crawfish Eating contest.
I also wanted to see how the Pros got to the meat of those little crustaceans .
A quick side-note, or sort-of side note observation was how many people, myself included had their phones or other little camera devices out to record the event. I've noticed this more and more. I recall how Japanese tourists used to be ridiculed for this very same behavior. We're all Japanese tourists now.
After many introductions and hoopla, the race was on. There were several different techniques, but it all boiled down to ripping of the heads and sucking out as much juice and meat as you could in 10 minutes. Unlike many food eating contests where it's a simply matter of getting down as much of whatever food it is, crawfish take a goodly amount of skill to get to that food in the first place.
After watching that for a bit we wandered around and then headed over to Jackson Square to get some food.
After last weekend's festival which had several thousand fewer attendees, one-tenth of the music and was one-price, all-inclusive, all-you-can-eat, all-you-can-drink kind of thing, the crowds and lines were freaking us all out.
Not to mention how tired we were before we even left Baton Rouge. So we had to re-group on more than one occasion. There were of course, more bands than we could ever get around to seeing and we hadn't done any research to have an idea which ones we wanted to see. We ended up gravitating to the smaller less crowded venues. Our culinary decisions followed a similar course, that being shorter lines.
All the food was delicious, although there were a couple of dishes that I would have liked to try, but not worth the wait.
We started heading back to where we had parked our bikes. We ran across several interesting acts including one very wonderful puppet-show.
I couldn't resist getting a plateful of crawfish. I must say my technique was much improved after watching those masters earlier on in the day.
And just as we were beginning to relax and get into the festival groove, we realized that a cocktail party in the Irish Channel district was calling us.
Back on the bikes.
No Rest for the Weary
Blame It on the Rain
We had a lovely evening catching up with a gangful of Angelenos; a definite reminder of how long we've been doing this whole "Hollywood" set decorating thing.
The next morning we were woken up to or rather by the rain, a torrential downpour.
So much for the festival, which was sort of a relief. We were all pretty burnt out and jumping on the bikes and heading off to fight the crowds was a little less than appealing.
Here Comes the Sun
After packing up and making a reservation at a restaurant in By-Water, the sun emerged and suddenly it was the perfect day for a festival, but we were on our way and looking forward to a nice sit-down brunch.
Unfortunately, our reservation was at an establishment that was for some reason over-21 only. After being seated, our waitress realized the mistake and we were asked to leave.
We ended up down the street at Prime Grille for a lovely Jazz brunch with incredible service and wonderful food. Yet another weight-gaining weekend for me.
Game of Thrones
Rounded out the weekend with settling in to watch our favorite television show. It did not disappoint.
And then as I was catching up on facebook before finally finishing up the weekend, I found out one of the guys from our gym in Atlanta X-3 sports, Clint Hester, won his match in his UFC debut in a most devastating fashion.
I've rolled with him a couple times, strictly jiujitsu. That was tough enough. I can't imagine stepping a ring with him. Check out the clip and you'll understand why.