If you were an LSU student, then you've eaten at Louie's. It was the place to go after all the bars had closed but you didn't want to go home yet. Come to think of it, there was one knucklehead in the fraternity house that wanted to fire the cook and have the meals catered by Louie's. I'm sure it's still booming at 2:00 am, but at my age, we go there for breakfast.

More mail from friends.

Work conversation this morning included an allusion to Long Duck Dong before 9:00 am. That's bodes well for your day. I'm inspired to share some pop culture observations. I suppose I should start with American Idol.

I moved to Baton Rouge in the fall of 1989 to start school at LSU. Ever since then, I've never been more than a few minutes from the lakes that frame the campus. I've walked, driven, and cycled around the lakes countless times. I've seen them smooth as glass and frothy with whitecaps, teeming with wildlife, and covered with rotting dead fish. These little lakes can give you anything.

Today is that most contrived of American holidays, Cinco de Mayo. At least in the U.S., this seems only to be a celebration of Mexican restaurants. I'm not sure about other parts of the country, but at least in my town, Cinco de Mayo celebrations were started by Corona advertising, and local Mexican restaurants jumping on the bandwagon with specials.

Last week, I had the chance to attend a very unusual double header. It started with game 4 of the Hornets-Heat playoff series. Tip off at 7:00 in New Orleans arena, followed by the LSU-Tulane baseball game next door in the Superdome. he basketball game was great. We had seats on the 10th row in the corner.

I don't seem to find myself as excited about what's on TV lately. And since I have nothing else to tell you all about, allow me share some complaints.

As I was looking through the refrigerator this evening, I picked up a bottle of food off of the door. It's funny how all refrigerator doors are full of the same bottles and jars of stuff. You never even see the things until you happen to want a pickle, or you wonder if there are any of those spiced beans left that you bought to put in Bloody Marys.

This may seem like a trivial issue, and in fact, it really is. But, it's one of those things where a question pops into mind, then lingers and grows and puzzles the brain for months and months. It's like the question about how the Saints can suck for 30 years in a row or why you can't wait to get back to Las Vegas, even though you know you're just going to end up hung over and without your money.

Here's one amusing story: The place that we stayed had one of those bars that you could swim up and order food and drinks. Mom went up the last afternoon and ordered an ice cream sundae, which of course, Americans pronounce "sun-di." The Thai bartender looked puzzled. Mom repeated the order, and he continued to not understand. When she pointed it out on the menu, he actually corrected her English: "That's Sun-Day."

Somewhere between when the time when the Thai ladies were trying on Mom's fake boob and when the weird little guy put a hot towel while I was urinating, I knew it was time to go home.

On Friday, Mom and I traveled to Ayuthaya province. This is about an hour outside of Bangkok, and was the capital up until about a thousand years ago. We started by touring ruins of a complex that may have been the palace or a temple. The ruins were pretty neat. It was much like touring an old fort in America in terms of how it looked. But obviously, the Thai's cement was a better mix than that of the American pioneers, since it was still holding strong, despite the handicap of an extra thousand years or so of exposure.