...Or, New Orleans, Louisiana. Nobody pronounces it that way verbally, but it is often referred as such in print. And it's where I am tonight. We came over on Friday for the weekend. Landed right at the Superdome, which has a nice little heliport that's open 24/7 (and even has fuel!). It's never busy. The couple of times we've been here, I've never seen another helicopter. And it is so convenient.
Around midday today I flew Boss up to Baton Rouge so he could attend the Alabama/LSU oh-my-God, nail-biting-to-the-end, cliff-hanging college football game. The Crimson Tide did prevail, but only barely. We left Baton Rouge at around 8:20 for the 35 minute flight back. Fortunately, we had the wind on our tail. Good thing - Boss had a 9:00 dinner reservation. Night flying, especially around big cities, is enchanting. It's really something to see, and photographs simply do not do it justice.
So the Boss is off...wherever. I'm about to go wander around the French Quarter. My King Air pilot buddy Cass suggested a place called the Acme Oyster House, and the Boss heartily concurred. Luckily, my hotel is within walking-distance of the Quarter, the Oyster House is a mere couple of blocks away.
A lot of people love New Orleans. I'm kind of ambivalent about it. I mean, yeah it's cool and all...I don't know...I'm just not all that enthralled. The French Quarter - which is about all that's left of New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina destroyed the city in 2005 - is so touristy and fake that walking down Bourbon Street gives one the impression of being at Disney World...a sick, demented, perverted Disney World. It just seems like a movie set to me.
We're not leaving until late tomorrow (Sunday). So I'll go grab some oysters and a beer or two...err, twelve, and then wander around seeing what kind of trouble I can get into. Surely there has to be a sleazy, smokey club where there are some authentic, old-timey New Orleans jazz musicians playing, huh? I mean, in a town like this, why settle for a run-of-the-mill "cover band?"