Friday, October 15, 2010

The Drive Home

Conner must have driven me home last night.

I mean to the hotel. At least I woke up in the same hotel room that I had been in the night before. I have no recollection of leaving the French Quarter last night, several blocks away from my hotel, so it must have been Conner who drove. It could have been Jim Withers. He was with us. One of them must have driven me home.

Though we didn’t have a car.

It all started innocently enough.

It was a glorious afternoon in New Orleans. I strolled down to Jackson Square to the Cathedral of St. Louis where I lit some candles for people I love and paid good money to the Catholic Church to do so.

Stumbling outside there was a five piece band with a hot girl bass player. I sat on the steps sipping wine. Savannah and New Orleans are the only cities in the country where you can do that. It is part of what makes them great cities.

Anyway I’m sitting there, enjoying the music, when Dorothy and the Cowardly Lion walk by. They are arguing. In fact, the Lion is cussing Dorothy out. She’s just staring at him as they briskly make their way back to Kansas I suppose. It’s not something that you see every day.

You got to love New Orleans!

Then I made my way to Bourbon Street which was likely mistake number one. I stumbled into a place with a really hot band with a girl singer. They were doing classic rock and were really good. I stayed for several drinks. They were that good!

Stumbling back outside, I wondered where my bicycle was. I can never count on my bike. Oh wait! It’s back on Tybee. Probably getting in trouble!

After that I went back to the band in front of the Cathedral. They were too good to simply leave behind and the crowd was great, the weather nice, the trees in Jackson Square danced to the music, and the bass player was hot.

After an hour or so I made my way back to the hotel. Several Community Health Leaders and I were talking when Conner strolled in. Conner doesn’t walk or rush or run. He strolls, never in a hurry, always calm and in control. Except for that time he passed out in the kitchen on Brant Island in Canada.

Anyway I introduced him to Jim Withers and we were off. Conner immediately got us lost, but he was cool with it. We followed him around until he found a place that he thought he had been to before and we ordered a gumbo feast.

Then it was off into the night for a good time!

Then I woke up this morning wondering who drove me home.

It must have been Conner.

He owed me big time for driving him home last time.

I wonder what happened to Jim?