Halloweekend

Halloween this year was wet. I never thought about it before, but I don't ever remember a rainy Halloween before -- not even as a kid.

But it was fine. A long block of trick-or-treating got us inside relatively early. Fewer kids out meant more candy per stop, so the haul was about the same. And of course, there had already been Boo at the Zoo and school Haloween stuff too.

I was glad to get inside in time to see an epic ABC programming feaux-pas. Right after Charlie Brown's Halloween ended, they went right into Grey's Anatomy, which started with a scene of two naked women waking up together.

ABC Screen capture, about five seconds after the end of the Peanuts Halloween special.

My kids didn't notice, and even if they had, they would have totally accepted an explaination where I shrug and say, "Some grownups sleep nude." And that would have been the end of it. I like to think of it having lead to awkward discussion across America, but in most places, the kids were probably just getting in.

Voodoo Festival followed, and we spent huge chunks of the day there Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Picture perfect weather all three days.

For me, the most fun is the booze smuggle-in.

On Friday, I tucked a flask into my pants, and I waited for 10 minutes while the searcher checked jacket pockets, had me unfold blankets, and felt through every pocket of a roomy backpack. Meanwhile, K tugged on the leg of my shorts asking, "What's in Papa's balls?" "What's in Papa's balls?" "Is that whiskey in Papa's balls?"

	Hanging out in the French Quarter

They should pay more attention.

On Saturday, I could have smuggled in a whole pharmacy of drugs and a couple of automatic weapons, as they guy clearly was from the school of belief that no middle aged guy with two little kids was going to do anything to rock the apple cart.

On Sunday, I noticed the line had the first waist and pant-leg patter that I had seen. She was the only threat all weekend to whiskey confiscation. I pulled off my backpack and used it to keep a distance between us as I started unrolling blankets and unzipping pockets. She got tired of the ordeal before we were through it all, and sent me through without the body pat.

	Taking flight at the festival.

We saw a lot of good music. The Virginmarys and the alt-country duo Shovels and Rope have a new fan over here. (Hey, check that out, they're playing a bar in Baton Rouge in February!)

V really enjoyed Maclamore and Ryan Lewis. I think it's the first show where he's really known a lot of the music that was playing. K liked the Preservation Hall band, who got billing on the main stage, maybe for the same reason. He definitely liked when we all chanted "Who Dat."

The Cure, Cults, and The Weeks are all bands that I expected to be good and wasn't disappointed.

We went late on Sunday, and the first act we caught was Matt and Kim. I expected a chilled, catchy set that would be a chance to relax before Kid Rock (who was not very impressive, I didn't think). But they brought a ton of energy and really got the crowd into it, which is all the more impressive since it's just the two of them, and they're trapped behind a drum kit and a keyboard while the songs are playing. It was a really great set.

The Kim of Matt and Kim really made an impression on Kolya. He spent a half hour after their show asking "Where Lady go?" and "When she come back?" That might or might not be a good sign, since she spent a lot of time standing on her bass drum, shaking her (very attractive) ass at the crowd, and then made a show of putting on a half dozen thongs that had hit the stage.

	Who recognizes this older, fatter version of a rocker that you've known for 20 years?

(They really were a lot of fun to watch.)

A non-musical highlight of the festival was spotting Santa Claus entering a porto potty from the Ferris Wheel. (Try to find that sentence written in any language, anywhere else, ever.)

Santa was in there for a long while, and after he came out, I let the kids stalk him for a bit. They decided that it was a guy in a costume rather than the real Santa, since he wouldn't look up at them from his Stella and his cell phone. But by taking so long in the porto john, he introduced to our family the phrase, "I gotta poo poo like Santa Claus" as a way to emphasize a massive need. I hope that one sticks around.

We also did some hanging around in the French Quarter. If I post pictures from the weekend, you'll notice Vanya sporting a top hat.

Also, Kolya found a hairy curler from some bowl of the hotel room and had it a millimeter from his mouth before I slapped it away.

Good weekend. Can't wait for next year.

Waiting for the next act.