Beauty and the Bucket.
What flotsam will the stream of consciousness leave on shore today? Time and tide wait for no person.
I have been carrying around a comic strip clipped from the newspaper in my wallet this past week.
Here is what my day is like:
See, this character named Spud got a bucket stuck on his head. I often hit up Jazz in the Park with someone or other. Sometimes, I go with Mrs. King, those are the best times. Other times, I go with someone else. Those are good times, too.
Happiness loves company.
There are two full pages and two half pages of comic strips in every daily edition of the Times-Picayune. On Sundays, the comics have their own separate section. The newspaper is officially called the Times-Picayune/New Orleans Advocate but only people making Power Point presentations call it that. It is the Times-Picayune, a venerable name in the newspaper business.
I only read half the comic strips in the Times-Picayune. When a person lives in New Orleans long enough, the city changes his or her reading habits. For instance, I have started following Luanne on the comics pages. I have lost all interest in Get Fuzzy, which I found mildly entertaining when I lived in Boston. The Times-Picayune does not carry Zippy. That strip doesn't translate well. Even I don’t care for it, anymore. I have lived here too long.
New Orleans is like a worm in a sane person’s brain. It makes them do things they wouldn’t do anywhere before.
It is easy to dance to jazz. Join a second line parade. In New Orleans, we dance like nobody is watching. What are you waiting for? Dance. It feels good to be alive.
Here is the paywall. The rest of this story follows.
*************