Irish Punk Crawl

I left Jackson early on that Monday morning. I had far to go and alot to do. The first two hours of my drive I could have done in my sleep. Mainly because I think I have, several time.
But my arrival in H'burg was perfectly timed. I went to the radio station just a Mik was getting there and spent two great hours visiting with my friend. It being a radio station, I even got a little free music out of the visit. A mixed CD of Watermelon Slim and Townes Van Zandt. All of which was excellent, but not what I was look for that day. So after a few hours I said goodbye to Mik, Clinton and Elliot, and returned to my quest for drunk hell raising fun in New Orleans.
After a miss start or two, I collected Shackleford, Charlotte and Becca, and we hit the road.It was a strangely uncomfortable trip. I think all of us had I minds somewhere else.Plus as we arrived in the city it began to rain. Sometime rain in New Orleans is a good thing, but the scars of Katrine and still fresh here and you can feel it.
Lucky I am good driver and with a bit of luck we got parked down near the river walk on the edge of the Quarter. From here on we collected our fifth member,Dylan,who ended up getting us NICE hotel room at the Bienville House . He would not even let us pay him back for it. That generous bastard!!! I went down to the House of Blues to pick up my ticket and I am glad I did. The show solid out about an hour later.We sat in one of my favorite hole in the wall bars, O'Tooles, and had a few beers. O'Tooles is the bar right next door to the HOBs. So a variety of Irish punk themed characters rolled in and out of it. Including Josh and Heather who are also former H'burg residence.
As a large group we went to eat down Decatur Street at Cafe Maspero. The menu of pretty broad but I was not in a complex mood, so i just got a burger and beer from our blue dreadlocks wear waitress. It was only after dinner we realised that we all had to pay on one check. Christ! that is a pain in the ass.
So we where off to the show. I all finally get in and find that the Zydepunks playing. They are a great local New Orleans act and I couldn't think of a better opening act. Which is why when the one guy with the acoustic guitar who came out after them I almost cried. Its not that he was bad. In fact he was a good singer, played the guitar well, and wrote interesting songs. I am sure he was there to chill the crowd out before the main event and it worked. But it also was the signal to pack the room.
No mix of word can explain the awesomeness of seeing Flogging Molly live. I have missed seeing them probably half a dozens time over the years. Trains where later, I was out of town, I had no money, but everything I had been told was true.
This show kicked ass. If you have seen them, you know what I mean, if not you need to. The best description I can give of the music is Irish Folk Punk.
I had a great view of the whole show. I was down on the floor, but off to the side far enough so not to get caught in the pit. Still there where a few time me or Josh had to step between the ladies and another "fan". I can easily see how a "pretty boy" could break a bone at this show. Still it was rock'n! I didn't even have to leave my spot to get beer because other people in my group would get me one when they went. And of course the more we drank,danced and sweated, the more we need to drink. So after ALOT of Guinness and one rock'n show, I had to pee. Which is of course how I got left behind and found a new(at least to me) hat.
After the show, we walked, stumbled, or crawled down Decatur. We meant to go to Ryan's Pub, but end up at The Kerry. Alot happened here, but at this point I was pretty damn drunk. So I only remember highlights. I know we found the Zydepunks playing a late show to which Becca and I danced. I know she ended up burning herself while we danced. I remember trying to help an old hippie escape another drunk punk. I know I went up to your hotel room to go to bathroom (luckily the Bienville House and The Kerry are across the street from each other) with a few other people. As I was leaving to return to the bar, Dave, the lead singer, and Bridget, the violin player, got off the elevator. I thanked them for a great show as everyone else went wild. Turns out they were in the room right next to ours. This also seems to have answered a question I had about those two anyway. I wander back down the street, alone, to see if there where anymore shows coming up that I want to see and on the return trip back to The Kerry, I meet the banjo/mandolin play. I thanked him and wished him well on the rest of the tour, or I tried to the best of my abilities.
By now I tired, all the heavy beer is starting to effect me and I return to a room to quietly slip into a Guinness induced coma.Others went to Bourbon street to get more drinks or somewhere else to buy beer, but I happily layed in king sized bed.
After everyone got back, those of us, Shackleford, also in a Guinness coma, Heather, burned out from rock'n out, and myself crashed in one room. While Becca, Charlotte and Dylan did whatever they wanted in the other.
I was woken be by Shackleford scratching his ass and the weird thought that it smelled like sausage in our room. I realized this was because I was sharing a the bed with Shackleford and Heather. All of us smelled of sweat and beer. I hope they burned those sheets after we left.
I looked at the clock and realised that I had about 5 hours of sleep. And that enough for me. I got up, took a shit, and a shower. The shower was probably the best idea I had had in ages. I left the room and went down the street to eat breakfest. I just grabbed some Beignet and a glass of milk. Then return to sit by the pool at the hotel till checkout. I was joined by Becca and Dylan later who brought a paper with them. We got the other out of their room just in time to not have to pay for another day. We tried to find croissants, but failed and ended up eating lunch at someplace so bad I blocked the name of it out of my memory.
We return to Cafe Maspero to get strawberry daiquiri for the ride home. I just had water because I had to drive. I would like to say I didn't drink any of the daiquiri on that ride, but I was offered, and had a few sips.
I returned all my passagers to H'burg, had beer or two, tried to find a place to swim, but again the rains came and I decided it was time to go home. So I called Mik, to make fun of the johnny "Guitar" Watson song he was play and I hit to road for home. Much like my ride to H'Burg, the ride home was uneventfully. I believe I was home and happily asleep in bed by 9pm.
Almost two weeks later this is this the defining moment of my life, or at least the latest adventure.