We needed a quiet day – seriously.

While I only speak for myself, last night was somewhat of a rude awakening, as while at Cooter Browns, Collin brought over a round of drinks and I, after taking a sip of mine, chastised him for not making sure my Jack & Coke was made strong enough. ‘It’s a double’ he said, half-laughing.

I haven’t even been here half-a-week.

We all woke up, Tim and Collin both ill from whatever it was we ate last night (culprits being fried catfish, fried soft-shell crab, fried shrimp, raw oysters or the fixings), and didn’t make it out of the bus until around 2pm where we then headed back to Magazine Street, one of the better lesser-known spots of town. With this being the final free few days of Prop 1, an all-city art collective, the chance to do something other drink was well-recieved.

Now – I hate art. Sounds strange as I surround myself by artists and was even once a partner in an art studio, I really do. Maybe because it’s not meant to be understood (which makes it crap) or when it is, is considered crap. And then there are the people who talk about art – these should be kicked. Don’t even get me started on performance art.

I walked around the Warehouse District while the others ‘absorbed’ (or, whatever you do), smoked and took photos. They ended up outlasting me and I went in. It wasn’t bad. The most interesting piece asked ‘what kind of house does a man who has lived in a 6′X9′ box for over 30 years dream of?’. Actually worth a read – if for only the Black Panther toilet. We’re going to go tomorrow to try and find Brad Pitt’s housing project.

This kind of ‘art’ I enjoy. So I don’t ‘hate’ art, just the David Lynch-y art.

After that strolled around the northern part of the Quarter (for those sick of the Girls Gone whatever scenes), buying Tom Olives and taking in the bipolar neighborhoods in-and-around Bourbon Street.

Dinner? Red Beans and Rice from…(wait for it)…Popeyes. Collin claimed they do the best (along with the biscuits) so we followed. He was right and here we all lay. Bellies full of $1.39 goodness and ‘Blazing Saddles’ on the big screen.

Sometimes, you just need nights like this – even when you’re retired.

[Photo of Collin confirming my claims of 'excess']