It was cold but not intolerable, so we walked the 5 miles back to the French Quarter. We had unfinished business. Beth and Mildred wanted to tour the French Market and I was not leaving New Orleans without seeing the dueling pianos at Pat O'Brien's pub and sampling the Hurricanes.
Tom wisely declined to go back out in the freezing cold so stayed on the boat. What is a monumental repair task for me, is tinkering for Tom. He tinkered his way through: changing a rocker cover gasket, replacing a lift arm on the upper hatch, re- fibre glassing the aft flag holder, rebuilding the transom door knob, tacking the stair carpet down, and most importantly putting a check valve in the mid bilge pump so we wouldn't sink! Thank you, Tom.
So while Tom was tinkering the rest of us were drinking. Pat O'Brien has it all, duelling pianos, dark lighting, wildly dancing women and water that burns! No, I don't mean the kind you can drink. Those were the Hurricanes and they didn't burn, but two Hurricanes on top of two Irish coffees and two Tulymore Dews will definitely kick your ass! I now know why they are called hurricanes...because the next morning you will feel like the top of your head blew off! Oh, the burning water! In the courtyard of the pub stood a tall water fountain with fire burning in and throughout the water! How did they do that? I wouldn't have understood even if they tried to explain it to me so I just went with the thrill of seeing it.
We hailed a taxi and returned to the boat early knowing that we were leaving for the Mississippi sound early the next morning.
In reflection, I was dissappointed that none of the bands in the parades we saw had any jazz musicians or jazz music... it was mostly Rock and Roll or Rap Crap! Come on New Orleans get back to your roots!
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