ROCKPILE on the road

Overnight in Shreveport, then next day to New Orleans. To the Maison Dupuy in The French Quarter. Hit the streets — Bourbon Street — cacophony — live & canned music blasting out of saloons & eateries — Larry Flynt’s Barely Legal Club — tourists in all shapes & sizes partying in the neon din — almost everyone holding containers of one kind of booze or another — street hustlers scamming — one lone black hooker in ubiquitous hot pants appears in a doorway & we make eye contact — but the Rockpilers are hungry & in quest of raw oysters on the half-shell which we find at Desire. Terri & I start off w/ a shot of tequila w/ a beer back. She shows me how salt my thumb a forefinger loop, knock a taste back, then suck a splash of lemon. The first dozen oysters are almost inhaled. We vacuumed up 2 more. Then ordered dinner. I had wine w/ a salmon fillet on top of Caesar salad. We wound up weaving through an even louder blast of music on Bourbon St — reminds me of Charles Ives on top of a hill hearing 4 marching bands below playing 4 different marches — then to Fhay’s, an Irish pub catercorner to our hotel — naturally, pints of Guiness & a person at the bar shared a couple of American Spirit cigarettes w/ Terri & I — everyone’s allowed to smoke in saloons & pubs — my clothing smells like a filter tip —