a special evening last night. I meant to leave my office for an hour, and ended up getting home at 2am. Classic New Orleans. I went to catch the secondline for a local musician who died suddenly last week, at his favorite bar. He was a beautiful character who always had a moment to chat with E and me, and he especially had a soft spot for me. We used walk the dog down to the bar where he performed on Saturday nights. We'd sit out on the street with a beer and listen to him. Another year, we'd often sit with him at the bar down the street from our house.. he would chain smoke and tell stories. Gravelly voice. Long braid. Yes, it was the drinks (and the drugs), and yes he often had too many (and too much), but he always made me feel like I could just step out of my life into a whimsical, creative space. Like freedom and beauty were there waiting for me and all i had to do was let go.

The secondline was the best of new orleans. We wound through the narrow streets of the french quarter at dusk, parasols floating above the crowd, everyone twirling their handkerchiefs, dancing and bobbing along with the brass band. It was such a long line of friends and well-wishers. I didn't expect to see so many people who felt that he had touched them in some way.

The parade ended at a music hall that filled up with familiar characters - the various quirky artists that we all recognize from around town... that dude wearing a full suit and sunglasses at night, carrying a gold telephone; that guy with the white beard and the top hat; familiar bartenders and DJs and musicians, etc. etc. etc. All dressed up in feathers and gloves and hats, stripes and vests and tulle and lace. As only New Orleans can dress up. The music hall quickly took on the slightly surreal air of a royal court: These beautiful regal characters, and the rest of us commoners - the bourgeoisie basking in their reflected glory.

12:59 p.m. - 2011-12-13