As I sit here copacetically awaiting my next journey to central and South America I ponder my last month of domestic scrambling.
Traveling from Long Beach, CA I found myself in Oklahoma City two days later. The Lakers were playing and I had never been. Briskly driving thru the southwest I missed sites I wish I would have provided time to experience. Oh well, I have a stranger agenda.
The barren metropolis of OKC was a site for no eyes. It was large city filled with few people. I had not met one that was anything less than courteous and charming tho it felt like they were waiting until spring to emerge to the city they call home.
Burger: excellent. Beer: solid. Game: I shutter to think if this is the product the Lakers plan to showcase for the next generation. Time will tell.
That southern charm seems to creep up to OKC as well. From the camera men to the nice and gentle OKC fans sitting on both sides of me I definitely appreciate the people and micro culture here even if the entire stadium did stop for a quick prayer before tip off.
OKC 110 : LAL 93
D’Angelo Russell: 29 points 6 assists
Russell Westbrook: 17 points 18 rebounds 17 assists (He’s coming to LA tho… right?)
After the killing the next day I made my way to New Orleans. I stayed the night in Baton Rouge and got my first taste of the south. A nice and cozy AirBnB and a great plate of tacos at Mis Padres I regretfully did not partake in the $30 gallon of margaritas to go. Welcome to Louisiana.
The next day I settled in New Orleans. Fuck. I instantly fell for its charm. The buildings, the people, the atmosphere. It has everything. Quiet and quant colonial. Raw and rambunctious for the Mardi Gras seeking. I was somewhere in the middle. I did go for the last two days of Mardi Gras. It was fun to walk the streets and watch the parades unfold down St. Charles place, and Canal, and the half dozen other main stays of the historic community.
Bourbon street was a hoot for the first 3 minutes or so. Trekking it during the day is the peak time to experience the smells the city has to offer. A twist of vomit and week old trash seems to engulf the main drag. If you can get past this feeling then there is no stopping the endless imbibing of alcohol experienced on this street. During the night at certain times there are plenty of women showing whatever is convenient to expose at that moment. That Great American Culture the terrorists are so envious of. Believe it or not there are strip clubs on Bourbon street. If you are into that sort of thing Bourbon street won’t let you down.
Frenchman Street is the ideal area in NOLA. Think San Francisco and Paris. SF with loads more charm. Currently my favorite place in the world to reside. There is plenty of content that can illustrate this more accurately than I can so I won’t attempt it.