Walking after midnight

New Year's Eve in New Orleans. We hadn't really planned on going anywhere. We never do. My house guest from New York who is moving here pursuaded me to consider it. Barry said he could go either way. "Whatever you want to do, Venus". (He calls me Venus because I served time on InsideNewOrleans.com as their romance advice person.)

I put on a little velvet top and some red lipstick, dangly earrings and we headed out into the fog. It was warmish...just cool enough for a light jacket...but so foggy and muggy that we could barely see into the sky. They nixed the fireworks. We got to Frenchmen Street and strolled past the Apple Barrell, Snug Harbor, dba, the Spotted Cat, Cafe Brasil and turned the corner at Decatur past Check Point Charlie and on down to Coop's where Michael and Nicole were hanging out. There was a look of utter disbelief on Michael's face when I walked into Coop's at 11:30. "Wow! Mom, when was the last time you were in Coop's this time of night???" I thought about it and really couldn't remember...maybe 12 years ago? Not much had changed. Different faces, but some of the same old ones too.

The French Quarter seemed other wordly in the fog and the mist. People greeted each other in passing, "Happy New Year".

We walked to Jackson Square where the usual Jesus contingent was planted in front of St. Louis Cathedral. I always feel creeped out by these zealots. After all, I don't go into their churches trying to impose my belief system on THEM. So I wish they would just stay the fuck home on Mardi Gras and New Year's Eve. Singing hymns, waving flags, and ranting about sin all while surrounding some dude dressed up like crucified Christ isn't likely to convert the masses. I suppose some one MIGHT decide to do the "personal saviour" thing, but I've never seen it happen. I once overheard a small child say to her father on Mardi Gras day, "Daddy, why are these Christians so scary and creepy???" They have a way of harshing my buzz. I gave them a wide bearth.

We moved through the crowd toward the street across from Cafe du Monde. It was so foggy that the usally bright neon Jax Brewery beer sign wasn't even visible. Every once in awhile a smear of white would show up across the sky -- the faint ghost of the "beer" part of the sign but we realized that we wouldn't see the gumbo pot drop at midnight.

Nonetheless we stayed. Happy drunks were everywhere. We were among the group. Barry brought a bottle of water and we shared that. Finally, Ray Nay (the mayor) began to blather on about how New Orleans is the best city in the world and blah blah blah. Suddenly the countdown began, "10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2 1 (a pause -a collective intake of breath) HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!" We kissed. My eyes wet with tears that I had been holding back through the walk down Chartres Street. It just reminded me of being a child in the French Quarter with my parents. No guns being fired. No fear of criminal activity. Just friendly people greeting one another, "Happy New Year". We walked home again hand in hand.