I forgot to mention a critical moment during my time in the French Quarter on Sunday before the game. Denise not only refilled my beer over and over, she taught me a very valuable lesson – how to dance the Cupid Shuffle. The whole bar was doing it. This is line dancing New Orleans-style, Big Easy-style, Who Dat?-style. Toddlers and grandparents of every race and creed do this dance. Enjoy.
This morning, I had an audition in the CBD (Central Business District). I used my GPS to get there (though I’m becoming far less dependent on it) and was pretty turned around when I parked. As I walked toward the building, things started to look somehow familiar. Then I saw it – a sign reading, “Lucy’s.” I was at THE corner where I had danced until 4 am, the corner where I lost my voice (just in time for my big audition – but I was one of many who had no voice and Heidi’s truck still has no horn). It looked so different by the light of day. No giant D.J. stage, no hoards dancing in the streets, no cops trying to cover their glee, no line of cars trying not to hit us and screaming, “Who Dat!?!” as they rolled past, no brass band parading through, no laughter and abandon, just a corner with buildings, parked cars and some harmless looking restaurants that had been the bars from the night I was there.
I mentioned this to the casting people who had been staying in the hotel during the partying. I told them that I left at 4 am to go eat and one said she had left at 6:30 am to go to work and there were still people dancing in the street.
I love New Orleans.
I keep comparing my move from L.A. to a break-up from a relationship – the kind where you stay too long and do damage to yourself and the damage makes it even harder to leave – to believe that you can remake your life at any moment and set yourself on a new course.
But, moving to New Orleans is definitely like falling in love with someone entirely new, someone you believed existed but almost lost the strength to hope for finding. I’m sure, that when my honeymoon is over, New Orleans will disappoint me in ways, reveal some weakness or lack of growth, some secret or scar, but I forgave our nation’s capitol, I forgave New York, and I forgive Los Angeles all shortcomings. They are all amazing cities with plenty to offer, but like a guy who just isn’t the right fit, it wasn’t them, it was me. I just never found my home, the place where I made sense. I think I may have found that place. I love Louisiana and I love New Orleans. I love them so much, I would marry them.
p.s. This is the Saints official half-time song. Here’s a fun version with Marines getting “Crunk.”