Mr. Do-Gooder.
I just asked Sarah if she knows what a popinjay is. Hint: It is not a bird.
She didn't know, so I asked her to look it up and read the dictionary definition to me out loud.
She did.
I was laughing so hard as Sarah realized what it was she was defining. I asked if the website had a picture of a popinjay.
Sarah looked straight at me and said, "I don't need a picture. I am looking right at one."
Guilty as charged.
Happiness loves company.
You don’t know this but they have a good lunch special at NOLA Brewing on Tchoupitoulas Street. I rarely have anything to do on Tchoupitoulas street, so, getting this lunch special, while always a chore out of the way, is always a joy.
Anyone who tries to put a price on happiness is a danged fool.
When you ride a motor scooter, every day is a pleasant little adventure.
I will let you guess who I went to lunch with.
Right now I am waiting to interview someone. Who knows when she will show up. Everything happens in New Orleans time. I am never in a rush. What’s the point?
Anyhow, in the meantime, let’s kill some time.
Let me tell you about what happened at lunch. It was nothing much, but, truth be told, cotton candy dreams have been spun from thinner gruel than what I have to work with today.
First, I have to put up the paywall. Then, I will tell you about the Irish Channel and the Lower Garden District, and, in the end, I will tell you about part of Broadmoor.
No tickee, no shirtee. I haven’t had a chance to say that in a very long time. Thank you for showing up.