© 2009 Pi3rr3 Huang

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Copyright © Pi3RR3 Huang

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Thankfully no Pit Bulls [or pom poms] were seriously injured in this horrifying incident!

Snow's Tummy was Tickled Pink by the Titans Cheerleaders

The Farm @ Natchez Trace kindly asked Snow to ride on their float in the Leipers Fork Christmas Parade. She was Queen of the Pit Bulls which is kind of like Queen of the Mardi Gras but much better. Wynonna, who happens to live around the corner, announced the floats as they rode by.  She asked if doggies at The Farm could get bikini waxes too?

Snowy got to throw frisbees and candy to the cheering crowd which lined Main Street in the Fork.  Big fun was had by all of the horses, and burros, and goaties, and heifers, and kids, and dogs involved!

pre parade preparations and posing

Frisbee Catching Fans along the Parade Route

The Utah Jazz, along with six other teams, are participating in a series of games this season called NBA Hardwood Classic Nights.  Wednesday night, the games were tipped off when Cleveland wore their retro home jerseys from the 1988-1989 season.  There are 62 total NBA Hardwood Classic Nights games, and 17 of which are being nationally televised.  The other five teams participating in this includes the Orlando Magic, Portland Trailblazers, Minnesota Timberwolves, Golden State Warriors, and the Toronto Raptors.

The Jazz are involved with this because the franchise is celebrating their 30th anniversary of moving from New Orleans to Utah.  The Jazz will don the retro green jerseys from the 1979-1980 team. 3 out of the 11 games scheduled with these uniforms will be nationally televised.

With the New Orleans Jazz struggling with attendance and losing over five million dollars over a few seasons, original owner Sam Battistone decided to move the Jazz to the smaller market city of Salt Lake.  Even though Salt Lake City was a smaller market, they had shown that they could support a pro basketball team when the popular Utah Stars played there from 1970-1976.  The team decided to keep their name even though Salt Lake was not known for it’s jazz culture.  They also kept the original colors of purple, green, and gold, even though those are the colors of Mardi Gras.  It took over six seasons for the Jazz to turn their struggles around in Salt Lake.  If the Jazz had not traded their pick in the ‘79 draft, their move would have been a little smoother because with that pick, the Lakers took Magic Johnson.

In the first season playing in Salt Lake, the Jazz posted a 24-58 record, and thankfully enough have posted better records since then. Some things have changed like moving out of the Salt Palace into the Delta Center/Energy Solutions Arena.  Other things have not changed like Jerry Sloan being head coach in all but seven years of the past three decades.  I personally am thankful for the Jazz moving to Salt Lake, and personally I am thankful for them wearing these retro jerseys because they are straight powder!

Hey all, our Aboriginal Art Show held the last weekend in November was a huge success with over 50 paintings sold and a wide range of visitors (some international) who came along to appreciate what David Dunn has achieved. World history was in the making with David’s unique style of painting along with the amalgamation of Aboriginal and Gay & Lesbian themes in his new works.

To view his artworks just click here

Original art by David Dunn

HE MADE ME SUCK HIM OFF IN FRONT OF THE ELVES

I SAID WHATEVER ……SANTA….THEN HE BLEW A BIG LOAD

OF CHRISTMAS CHEER DOWN MY FACE!

WWW.COCKSOXXCONDOMS.COM

The world is not small. Creativity is plentiful. What could be more inspiring than a world with abundant creativity?

Let’s start with New Orleans and it’s knack for inspiring the masses.

Why would someone want to live in a city ravaged by Katrina?  Why would someone want to live in a city at times is the deadliest in America?  Why would someone want to live in a city with an educational system that just never seems to get out of its hole?  Why would someone want to fall under the umbrella of leadership and a political system that stumbles more often than not?  All very familiar questions. All very familiar questions often asked by many.  Any day and everyday… from common people like you and me.  The locals.  The tourists.  The media.  The naysayers.  The believers.  Familiar questions that have been there since the beginning long before the arrival of a natural disaster.

But if you take a stroll down the aroma filled avenues of the lower Marigny or  along the bead strewn trees of Napoleon or perhaps the Irish Channel, you’ll start to understand why.  You see it’s never been just about the Quarter or 2 1/2 weeks in February.  It’s been and will always be about so much more.  And if you were to stumble upon someone “from there,” you’ll start to hear the  vibrations of words that truly explains it all.

Ask them “why?”  And you might just hear them say “you’ll never understand.”

That’s right. “You’ll never understand.”  You see beyond the layers, beyond all of it is a city that truly has no answers.  Answers are not needed.  And for more reasons than one is the sole reason why people seek haven in this city with so much already against it.  I equate that same city syndrome one gets when living in New York, Chicago, Miami or San Francisco.  Ask someone from those cities and I’m pretty sure the reasons will be plentiful and the living section of resident publications will be flooded with traffic. New Orleans however is different. I’ve lived in some of those cities and I promise you,  New Orleans is indeed just a little bit more different. Something about it that has kept it truly Americana but yet its roots are of Spanish and French influences .  Something that I’m strangely familiar with although I have no roots there.  Something about it that has kept me connected even though I’ve physically only lived there for several years.   Something about it that triggered a probing curiosity stemming from a work visit many years ago although I was trapped in a Holiday Inn.

I can go ahead and start listing even more reasons.  I can rant just a little bit more that would keep the New Orleans tourism board exploding at the seams.  But I won’t.  Because if I did, there still might be the chance… you might just not “understand.”

You see New Orleans will never have its answers. And New Orleans will always have its questions.

New Orleans just wouldn’t want it any other way.
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Revelry and the spirit of Mardi Gras has always been the essence of Louisiana and, to a strong cutural point, New Orleans. However it is the surrounding parishes leading out to edge of the Gulf that give a more community structured, down home feel where the neighbors are your friends and the crawfish melt in your mouth like butter.

Houma swirls its web of culinary richness and bead-ensuing frivolity with an essence of hard work that imbues the town. Inherently a fishing community which has taken the brunt of nature’s wrath from hurricanes over the years, Houma is remarkably resolute and filled with the kind of indomnitable spirit that entwines itself into every corner of life.

Mardi Gras is inherently a party to be sure but the key in any of its various forms across the Lousiana swath, the key is fun without losing the marbles totally. The base of the endeavor comparatively is one of community structure and pride.

Entering into the warehouse of the Houma Mardi Gras Parade, the sense of how seriously the experience personifies itself is seen in the details on the floats whether it revels in the chicanery of pirates or the outer space fantasy of “Star Wars”.

The staggering amount of beads, marked by those special high-end hand-made medallions that cause attendees to try whatever they can to attain them including regularly losing their minds, is a natural state of play.

The night rage begins in earnest as the lights start the train ablaze near the outlay of the Barrow Street Bridge. As the anticipation builds to crescendo, the cross generational appeal of the proceedings reaches its pinnacle.

The dance party takes shape outside the Starhouse Tavern where the DJ pumps the music loud as the rum swirls the light. The rhythm of the night permeates in the vibe highlighted by a general sense of fun where all come to enjoy, although some get more crazy than others.

The lights go dark as the beads start flying. The glowing visions of reds and blue balanced by florid costumes wrapped in winding streaks of light sticks keep the volley in tune. Screams of delight reverberate into the night as the streets swell with people.

The second parade of midday offers the possibility of the community to experience the frivolity in a different light but also allow those who might not have been able to make it because of family comittments or work to enjoy the revel.

The streets are packed six deep as coolers keep the fresh cold as the dancing on the floats reaches fever pitch.

The inherent vision of the local elders in full funk mode shows where the cool comes from, the masks swirling in knowledge.

Above on the terrace, the shots continue in whiskey as the swaying continues in earnest while below the delight of many intensifies in the funk of the moment as dragons fly by in motley lurid colors.

The wonder of Mardi Gras lies in its ability to turn any day into a massive street party where the worries disappear and the wonder reverberates in tandem.

Eating with gusto also starts the party right and the mobility and inception that motivates the want lies in the stomach of the beholder.

Boudreau & Thibodeau gets to the point for dinner. As the Abita Beer flows smoothly, an avalanche of crawfish waterfalls on the table. The little critters take work but once the aseembly line begins moving and the dipping commences, the vat of sides take precedence. The boiling pot brims with corn-on-the-cob and thick sausages that are imbibed with a dexterious flavor making it hard ro resist. The cheese steak surrounding by fried cheese simply serves to accelerate the proceedings.

Cafe Dominique, by comparison, functions with the personality of an ultra lounge in terms of ambiance but with a Lousiana flair reflecting its preciseness with an admirable balance that reflects in a smooth and cool experience. The grilled shrimp sparked with a tangy quality that was both filling and exceptional while an after dinner drink infusing cherry liquor and chocolate balanced with a cream custard dessert bathed in a thought of abstract art allowing for a tinge of irony.

Lunch requires a home spun vision that is brought in spades at A-Bear where the Shrimp Platter swirls in taste and hearty countenance topped with their signature crab sauce that hits the taste buds through the roof while the shrimp gumbo gave the hotness a run for its money.

The life that defines the bayou and the parish is the culture that permeates it bordered by the fury of nature, the vision of man and the beauty of time.

Beyond the energy of the party lies the basis of these truths which can be balanced between the necessary expression of art and the mystery of the bayou mixed with music.

Located in the midst of the Bayou Perit Caillou leading out to the Gulf lies the Chauvin Sculpture Garden swirling in mythology and creativity. Artist Kenny Hill, who has since passed,  saw a world populated by angels eternally mixing the balance between heaven and hell. Despite its very basic metaphorical core, some of the images he conjures defy expectations.

Take, for example, the lighthouse vision of a man being carried to heaven sullied as the charred remains of former humans march to some unheard drum, forever stuck in time. The meaning is different for all but allows for reflection especially in the perception of this oft-hit geography where the superstition of ages still permeates.

Hidden off beyond the normal confines of regular art galleries, this labor of love reflects a man’s vision, not for money or riches, but simply for an ideal, whatever its focus might be.

On the reflective end of this perpective, journeying back into the swamp away from the confines of urban sprawl in the city allows for local culture to spring forth.

Embarking with Ron Guidry on his Cajun Man Swamp Cruise, the history and music of area are balanced with a dominating sense of the now as the machinery of decades past pump the oil from underneath this vast swath of land beneath Louisiana backcountry. It is a visceral treasure trove simply hard to get to and even more environmentally challenging to pull off.

The alligators watch warily, sunning themselves in perpetuity as the barges drift path in slow ballet, the mighty cypresses towering over the proceedings as the voice of  Ron in his low drawl posterizes over the lives of time past.

Houma is place of diversive colors. The annual permeation of Mardi Gras is one of cheer and celebration as the community celebrates its individuality while perpetrating the artistic and philanthropic nature of its citizens.

Surrounding this with the essence of Down Home Louisiana cooking prepared in fusion or simply feastlike in style makes the journey that much more satisfying while unique visions like the otherworldy sculpture garden and the epic sprawl of the swamp mecca give a perspective that we are only passengers in this world.

Revel be praised for thou art eternal.

The back story: Recently, here in the newsroom, we have been forbidden to eat at our desks.  I think it stems from someone making IT mad and so they are getting back at all of us.  Anyway, we are all feeling a little like we are back in Jr. High.

Coworker #1: Are you going to put up a Christmas tree for our department this year?

Side note: last year’s that he put up was about five feel tall, silver – yes, the whole tree was silver and decorated with Mardi Gras masks.  He also set up a light that changed colors to shine on it, so it glittered colors.

Coworker #2: I don’t know.

Me: Not sure you want to put in that kind of effort for this place this year?

CW #2: (laughing) yeah, maybe.

Me: Maybe if you do they’ll just outlaw anything shiny.

CW#2: (Gasps and holds his hand to his chest as if in pain and stumbles away.)

YES I COULDNT BLIEVE IT I ACTUALLY CAME AFTER MY BOYFRIEND

GAVE MY BUM A GOOD SHAGGING…..IT FELT SOOOOOOO GOOOD!

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Rue Chartres Tile Mural Posters by figstreetstudio

People ask about my replica tile murals found in the New Orleans French Quarter and how they are made. It is a long process. The originals are Spanish tiles given to the city of New Orleans in 1962. Some are falling apart. As the designs are public many artists take pictures of them and frame them for sale. I felt making a replica in ceramic tile was a neat idea. First I began by taking many pictures of several of the murals and bringing them to my studio where I could clean them up taking out pealed spots and blemishes. Using a photo software I fixed the colors and added my studio name at the bottom. The end result is a nice image I copyright as it took a lot of work to make those images and are not the originals but replicas. From there I have to properly size the image and cut it into small squares to fit on tiles. This is difficult and takes a lot of time to get the detail so it fits properly together. The smaller individual images are then fitted to special tiles that are made with a special risen and the images heat set at high temperature to make an individual tile. The several tiles then are fitted together to make a mural. On occasion I am also asked to personalize the design with a name or street address which follows the same process above. If you have a request e-mail it to info@figstreet.com and I may be able to make it for you.
Currently I have available Rue Chartres, Rue Borbon, Rue Orleans, and Place D”Arms. I can do the other street names using the same process but first would need to go fetch photographs of them to start the process.
Here is the link to the web page with the various ones available in several sizes- http://www.cafepress.com/figstreetstudio/4855160

Bourbon St Tile Mural Poster by figstreetstudio

All images sold and designed by Fig Street Studio are copyright and cannot be used, downloaded, or reproduced without permission. I mention this here as in the past someone took my fridge magnet images and re-made and sold them in violation of copyright laws.

Ponchatoula man charged with running Ponzi scheme
By Jen DeGregorio, nola.com
November 19, 2009, 6:10PM

A Ponchatoula man has been arrested for running a Ponzi scheme in which he bilked at least 200 investors out of more than $11 million and allegedly used the money to pay for Mardi Gras krewe memberships and plastic surgery, among other personal expenses.

William J. Chaucer Jr. was booked in the Tangipahoa Parish Prison on charges of felony theft, selling unregistered securities, making material misrepresentations in the sale of securities and operating as an unregistered securities dealer, according to Attorney General Buddy Caldwell’s office, which investigated the case with the Tangipahoa Sheriff’s Office. Chaucer’s bond has not been set.

william_chaucer.jpgRoger Zettler, The Advocate/The Associated PressWilliam and Cheryl Chaucer were photographed in September 2008 at a banquet celebrating her selection as Miss Louisiana Senior America at Carter Plantation in Springfield, La.

Chaucer was the principal of several financial companies, according to Caldwell’s office: Chaucer Holding Company, Chaucer Financial Services, American Credit of Hammond, American Credit of Covington and City Credit of Ponchatoula. The companies closed in September.

A Ponzi scheme works by juggling money among a stream of investors, using cash from new clients to create the appearance of profits on existing accounts. In Chaucer’s case, clients were told that their money was being invested in one of his loan companies. Individual investments ranged from $10,000 to $417,000, according to Caldwell’s office.

But Chaucer was actually using the cash to bankroll an extravagant lifestyle. Caldwell’s office said Chaucer spent $400,000 on Mardi Gras krewe memberships and krewe-related expenses for his family, $5,500 in plastic surgery and $11,800 in cosmetic dental work for Cheryl Chaucer, who competed in beauty pageants. Chaucer also allegedly spent $5,558 for tickets and ads to the Senior America Inc. pageant, along with $14,275.74 in photos, $20,905.74 in jewelry and “thousands more dollars” on expenses related to his wife’s pageant career.

A telephone listed in the name of William Chaucer at an address in Ponchatoula has been disconnected. Donald Hyatt, listed with the attorney general’s office as an attorney for Chaucer, did not return several telephone calls seeking comment.

The Web site for Senior America Inc. lists Cheryl Chaucer as “Ms. Louisiana Senior America 2008.” A biography on the site describes her as a talented singer who has performed with the likes of Fats Domino, Pete Fountain and the Neville Brothers. Cheryl Chaucer is also credited with serving on the boards and committees of a variety of major New Orleans institutions, including the New Orleans Opera Association, New Orleans City Ballet and Audubon Zoo. The Web site also describes the Chaucers as members of five Mardi Gras organizations. Cheryl Chaucer has reigned as Queen of Mercury, according to the site.

She and her husband were scheduled to reign together as King and Queen of Excalibur in 2011, but the couple resigned from those posts in August citing “business problems,” said Diane Brown, captain of the Metairie parading organization.

Chaucer is not the first Louisianan charged with running a Ponzi scheme. In August, former Metairie resident Judith Zabalaoui received an eight-year prison sentence for operating a Ponzi scheme that stole $5 million from clients in the New Orleans area.

About 1,700 Louisianans may have lost a combined $500 million in investments with R. Allen Stanford, the Texas financier who has been charged with stealing $7 billion in an international Ponzi scheme. Stanford has pleaded innocent of the charge.

GIVE THE GIFT THAT KEEPS ON GIVING!

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THAT WILL KEEP YOUR CANDYCANE ROCK HARD!

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Ingredients:

• 1  (9-oz.) pkg. frozen chopped spinach
• 1  (8-oz.) pkg. cream cheese, softened
• 2  cans green chiles, minced
• 4  (8-inch) flour tortillas
• Roasted red bell pepper (from a jar), cut into 4 (8-inch) strips

Preparation:

1. Cook spinach as directed on package. Place in colander or strainer; rinse with cold water to cool. Squeeze spinach to remove as much moisture as possible.
2. In food processor bowl with metal blade, combine cream cheese and chiles; process until smooth. Add spinach; process just until blended.
3. Place 1 tortilla on work surface. Spread 1/4 of spinach mixture over tortilla, leaving 1/2-inch border on one side.
4. Place strips of roasted pepper, piecing together if necessary, across middle of tortilla.
5. Roll tortilla toward border, making sure beginning is tightly rolled, but easing pressure as rolling continues to avoid forcing out filling. Wrap in plastic wrap; repeat with remaining tortillas, spinach mixture and roasted peppers.
6. Refrigerate at least 1 hour before serving.
7. Remove plastic wrap from tortilla rolls. Cut each roll diagonally into 8 slices, trimming ends

Today, Sister & I woke up and I suggested that we go to Cocoa Boutique.  As advertised, it should be the chocolate paradise.

The entrance

They had a wide variety of local chocolate products such as, tiramisu chocolate, curry chocolate, ecetra ecetra.

But what caught my eyes the most are these:

The chocolate molded natives with mardi gras  beads!

But who are we kidding.  Those mardi gras beads has to go!!

Pfft!  See what I mean?!

Whoever thought of that idea!

The beautifully chocolate made of the Sabah map.

This is where I am from.

And this tier chocolates below are my favorite chocolates of all.

It is really small.  Really.  It’s only as big as your palm!

Now, I didn’t buy a whole lot of chocolates there as I was there to inquire of the chocolate printing services.

But we came home with only RM2 worth of chocolate.

Such a pity.  Cuz when I had a bite, I wanted more!!  It was uber good for a local product.  Yumm..

By Mark Waller, The Times-Picayune
November 11, 2009, 7:20PM

Not wanting to compete with the biggest game in football, and potentially the biggest game in New Orleans Saints history, Metairie’s Krewe of Rhea has canceled its 2010 Carnival parade on Feb. 7, Super Bowl Sunday.

Rhea captain Anna Marie Soto said Wednesday that krewe members concluded turnout would be low, whether the now 8-0 Saints are in the game or not. They expect turnout to be zero if the Saints are indeed playing.

“That would’ve affected our riders and people coming in the street,” Soto said. “If the Saints get in the playoffs and in the Super Bowl, we wouldn’t have anybody out there.”

Rhea normally rolls in the early afternoon two Sundays before Mardi Gras and has been parading on Veterans Memorial Boulevard since 1969. Soto said she worked with Jefferson Parish officials to find another date in 2010, but the only options were evening time slots that didn’t appeal to krewe members because the parade attracts entire families with children.

“We really just have to sit out this year,” Soto said, adding that members didn’t want to risk spending the money to produce the parade only to find the streets and floats sparsely occupied.

Another Metairie krewe that has long paraded immediately after Rhea, the Krewe of Centurians, anticipated the Super Bowl conflict and switched its 2010 date a year ago, said captain Norman Bourgeois Jr. Centurians moved forward five days to Friday, Feb. 12, partly because of the game and partly because the krewe was already interested in making the move, Bourgeois said.

By parading on Friday night of Carnival’s final weekend instead of the preceding weekend, he said, the krewe hopes to increase member participation and crowd sizes and boost that day’s Friday’s Carnival activities in Metairie, which Bourgeois described as inconsistent in recent years.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve had a really good parade on Friday,” to compete with the offerings in New Orleans, he said.

New Orleans officials have not heard any concerns from krewes scheduled for Feb. 7 about competing with the Super Bowl, said James Ross, spokesman for Mayor Ray Nagin.

While the Super Bowl was part of the decision for Centurions, Bourgeois said, krewe officials had no idea at the time they sought their date change that the Saints would be making an historic run.

But the team’s bright prospects halfway through the regular season seem to validate the decision, he said.

“I don’t think anybody would want to miss that opportunity” to watch the Saints’ first Super Bowl, Bourgeois said. “We’ve got to dream.”

. . . . . . .

Check out other entries on today’s Wordless Wednesday.

–BASED on a true story–

Quote of the Day:

“Always do sober what you said you’d do drunk. That will teach you to keep your mouth shut.” Ernest Hemingway

It all started out so innocently. Sweet came out of his eye exam, eyes dilated, vision blurry. The clerk had pretty hair, of that he was certain, a pleasing voice, and a friendly, outgoing personality. He drew out the process of settling his bill and ordering his contacts, making small talk, putting on the charm, because back in the day Sweet could roll like that.

A couple of days later he went back to pick up his contacts. The girl had a pretty face to go with her hair. He couldn’t tell much else because she was seated behind a glass window. I say “much else” because he could see the telling gleam in her eye–she wanted to give him her number. And so he got it, because back in the day, Sweet was the man like that.

That weekend TB came to visit, the weekend before Fat Tuesday. Sweet said he’d talked to this girl he recently met a few times on the phone and she was pretty cool. She even had a friend and they wanted to do something that weekend. Sweet stepped out and said let’s go down to New Orleans for Mardi Gras and see the Endymion parade, so he called her and she and her friend were willing and so we set off at a moment’s notice, because back then Sweet was like that.

We stopped at the 7-11 and picked up a case of beer, a bag of ice, a styrofoam cooler and some Rolaids, because even back then, Sweet was like that. As we pulled up to the girl’s apartment she saw us coming and stuck her head out telling us to wait just a moment. I turned and looked at Sweet and he grinned hopefully, but not without uncertainty. The girls came out laughing and hopped in the car. I was in luck–the friend was really good looking. The girl….I couldn’t put my finger on it exactly. I’d never encountered anything quite like it before, or more precisely, quite like them. I kept trying to get a better look and it took awhile because I didn’t want to get busted. Sweet kept glancing blankly in my direction from the rearview mirror. He’d seen it/them too. A few beers later we all needed a pit stop. When Sweet and I had a moment of privacy I pulled him aside. “Are those cankles?”  Sweet just shook his head in resignation. “I think so,” he said dully. “How could I have known?”

So we all loaded back up for the rest of the drive and Sweet recovered quickly. He was like that back then. After all, the girl was cool and her friend/my designated target was hot so Sweet shifted deftly into the role of friend guy/wing man, a seldom played role for him, but one he could willingly take on when necessary. It turned out to be unnecessary because the hot girl viewed me (I must assume) in much the way Sweet viewed “Cankles.” No matter, we all somehow realized how things were gonna be among us and silently assented to having a fun evening as pals.

For some reason on this night, maybe it was because I held out hope for the friend, I had decided not to go overboard with the beer. Overboard, back then for TB, wasn’t easy to do. I could pack away a lot of beer. Really, a lot. So I was probably only on about my tenth as we made our way down to the parade route hauling a Hefty bag full of beer and ice–the styrofoam cooler made it less than ten steps from the car, so we improvised. Back then we were like that. The hot girl was lost in the crowd, probably looking for her boyfriend. Sweet was slapping Cankles on the back like an old construction worker buddy ahead of me as I took my turn dragging the Hefty bag. Cankles was playing along, laughing and joking–she was well accustomed to her role too it seemed.

We found a likely spot for viewing the parade. Sweet and Cankles were carrying on, dancing in the street, sloshing Bud Light on one another occasionally, keeping enough daylight between themselves to satisfy any junior high dance chaperone. I stood back from the crowd, sipping my suds like a gentleman, thinking on how I might turn the tide with the good looking friend. Suddenly the crowd began to part and all eyes turned to a girl marching down St. Charles dressed as a nurse and holding a twelve pack of beer in one hand and a funnel in the other. “I can outdrink anydamnbody here!”, she shouted repeatedly. “Who wants to funnel with me? I’ll drink anydamnoneofyou under the table.”

I chuckled to myself. A twenty-four and a half year old pre-professional, I’d outgrown such shenanigans but could still freshly recall the times I’d have taken up her challenge. That’s when Sweet accosted her. “You can’t outdrink everybody here!” The nurse stared back at him resolutely, mutely challenging him to back up his statement. A thousand eyes watched Sweet, including mine, as he paused just a heartbeat before replying. “He can outdrink you!” Sweet’s index finger and a thousand eyes turned to me. The nurse glared in anticipation of another conquest. Well, I wasn’t gonna take that crap. “Yep”, I said in a calm, assertive voice. “I can outdrink you.” The nurse smiled and said “I’ll go first.”

She funneled a beer, then poured one for me and I sucked it down. Within another minute we’d finished number two and in another couple of minutes went numbers three and four. After four, the nurse had had enough. The crowd was cheering, I was in the zone. It was time to claim the victory. “Give me another.” I drunk it down. The nurse wasn’t even paying attention now but the crowd was cheering. Sweet was taunting her one moment like Jimmy Hart, the Mouth of the South, and tussling my head in celebration the next. “Give me another.” The crowd roared. Sweet rubbed my shoulders. The nurse was on her knees. If I was gonna be challenged by God, by a girl no less, there wasn’t gonna be any doubt over the outcome. I put away number 6 and after that my memories of the night are soundless and few.

I’ve never been one to pass out for too much drink. I black out. I go catatonic. I do crazy ass things, at least I did back then when I was like that. There are a few hazy images that survived the night in my memory. I remember the hot girl coming back and perching recklessly on my shoulders to watch the parade. I remember KC and the Sunshine Band. I remember the pit stop in an alley and the cold ride in the bed of a random cajun’s pickup truck. I remember a gray Motel Six hallway. And I know I had one of the worst hangovers of my life the next day. But Sweet took care of me, we made it home, and on this story I’ve gotten my props now lo these many years. Sweet’s like that after all. As for me, I retired from funneling after that day. That hangover must’ve been really bad. It’s funny, I think, and telling, that the memory of how it came about lasts longer than the memory of the pain. Hangovers are like that, and that’s one helluva silver lining.

The front shows a motorcyclist and reads, “Jerusalem Temple Motorcycle Escort, New Orleans, La. Coin is silver in color, not sure what type of metal it is. Measures 1-1/2″ in diameter.

The reverse shows a child with a cast and a crutch, a banner that reads, “American Bicentennial 1776-1976″, a couple of other symbols, and reads, “Dedicated to Help Our Childrens Hospitals, 1976 Mardi Gras”

1976 Mardi Gras, New Orleans, Jerusalem Temple Motorcycle Escort Coin / Token available at www.DadsVintageAds.com in the “ Motorcycle Gifts & Collectibles ” category

Search our Magazine Back Issue Index for old Motorcycle Magazine Back Issues for sale.

To search our full inventory of Vintage Motorcycle Advertisements, Articles, and Road Tests CLICK HERE.

Thanks to Satchmo.com for King info.

The satirical Krewe du Vieux parade will take place on Saturday, January 30, 2010, rolling through the Marigny and French Quarter. The King of KdV for 2010 will be music legend Dr. John, with Priestess Miriam Chamani reigning as Queen.

Krewe du Vieux has sub krewes, here’s a list:

Krewe of Comatose
Krewe of Mama Roux
Krewe of Underwear
Krewe of LEWD
Krewe of Drips and Discharges
Krewe de CRAPS
Krewe of CRUDE
Seeds of Decline

and also because family were in town and if you can’t come visit over Mardi Gras, you might as well visit Mardi Gras World and see where all the floats are made and stored.

I think I remember this one from last year:

This one is in process. Can you guess what the final result will be?

But the big draw for me was the promise of being able to dress up. It wasn’t quite what I expected, but it will do.

Ingredients:

• 7 cups water
• 4 cups bourbon whiskey
• 12 oz frozen lemonade concentrate
• 6 oz frozen orange juice
• 1 1/2 cups sugar
• 2 cups strong tea

Preperation:

Mix all ingredients a day ahead and place in freezer (a large plastic container usually used to store cereal works great!). When ready to serve, take out of freezer and put desired amount in glass with a little bit of Sprite or 7 Up.