April 24, 2008

Stacie asked for more about French Quarter Festival in a comment earlier this week. There's not really too much to tell. We walked around, listened to local bands that I've never heard of, ate some good food. We had perfect weather. I posted some photos here.

I only mention it because while we were sitting on that hill, the band on the stage played the song that I quoted just a couple of weeks before. Quite a coincidence. To save you the click, I was impressed by the lyric:

Lawd I swear The perfume you wear Were made out of turnip greens Every time I kiss you girl It taste like pork an’ beans

The band we were listening to was called the Zydepunks. Their web site bills them as, "New Orleans' Favorite Cajun Irish Jewish Punk band." That's probably as good as I could describe them, except to say that it was a lot better than you would think Cajun Irish Jewish Punk music would be.

I saw them on the schedule for Jazz Fest tomorrow, so if you're out there, check them out.

I un-hid this old post, which I had taken down at the request of my bosses at Equifax. It really isn't that offensive (although my sister's comments are a bit much).

The only other post that I've ever hidden is this one, which was at the request of Mrs. theskinnyonbenny, who was concerned that her boss at the time would recognize himself.

Whatever numbskulls thought that outlawing smoking in Bingo parlors wouldn't lead to a drop in the number of Bingo players obviously never actually attended a Bingo fundraiser. (Today's New York Times).

I don't think I've ever posted stories about my volunteer days at Bingo, but you truly could not find a place more enshrouded in cigarette smoke. One night, I was up on a stand calling numbers, and the power went out. In the dark room, several hundred cigarette lighters lit cigarettes all at once. It was like when the ballad starts at a hair band concert.