My Morning Jacket goes on tour, gouges me

Z
So driving back to Atlanta from New Orleans, I hear that My Morning Jacket is coming to Atlanta in November. Cool, I think, I like their album Z. Dave asks if he will like them. No, I resoundly respond.

So I check ticket prices. $25 a piece. What the heck? For Sufjan Stevens, sure. But My Morning Jacket? Maybe they are more popular than I thought. The Decemberists are only $20. And I know they are more popular. Unfortunately, I will be out of town for the Decemberists show. Stupid library conference…

If it was just me, I would lay down the $25 and go. But I don’t want to go by myself, and convincing someone to shell out $25 to see “Kent’s boring crap music” is really hard to do.

Saints Win + New Car = Good Day

Hell On Wheels

I picked up this sweet baby the same day that the Saints beat the shit out of the Atlanta Falcons.  The only thing that would have topped this would have been if I had driven my car to the game, and broken my hand/voice with Kent, Dave and Marnie.  For the record, I would have parked on top of the Superdome, and shot lasers out of the headlights, so as to avoid the Poydras congestion. 

 

23-3 Saints Win!! Saints Win!!

Saints entrance

Wow. What a game that was. It was great to be there in the Superdome for the greatest Saints game since “Hakim dropped it! Hakim dropped the ball!” I’ve never seen lines like that at the Dome before. So many people.

For some reason, they didn’t close off the streets around the Dome. Poydras was shut down anyway, just by the masses of people. As my mom and I walked down the street, we watched a cop futilely trying to get people out of the street, saying “THE STREET ISN’T CLOSED PEOPLE. THE STREET ISN’T CLOSED.” The people standing shoulder to shoulder in the middle of the street watching Cowboy Mouth play on a stage on the corner said differently. There was no where else to go. Poydras was closed.

Continue reading 23-3 Saints Win!! Saints Win!!

The Sacredome

I like to read the New Orleans bloggers for my info, rather than the Times-Picayune or nola.com. They are certainly more passionate about the city, and have done an excellent job of documenting the experiences of the people in the city on the ground now, from their own point-of-view.

Right now of course, the the topic du jour is the Saints and the upcoming Monday Night Football game against the Falcons, which I am so proud to say I will be in attendance. My Dalton Hillard jersey is ready.

Oyster, from Your Right Hand Thief, put up a great post on the Superdome (or the Sacredome as he calls it) yesterday. He dispells some of the stories that I’m sure we will hear this weekend about the things that went on in the Dome during the storm, stories which gave the rest of the country reason to ignore the city:

New Orleanians are not “savages” nor “Somalians”. When everything breaks down we do not rape children and go on mass killing sprees like the media reported; we are not “animalistic” like our mayor said, we do not form “thug armies” in desperate circumstances, we are not anarchists…. But, after Katrina, America was ready to believe the worst about us, as if most New Orleanians were depraved criminals at heart.

The country needs to understand that this is NEW ORLEANS, and that neither hurricane nor flood nor FEMA can stop us from dancing.

This Monday will be a fascinating experience, I’m sure. The fact that the people of the Gulf Coast managed to buy every single season ticket for the first time ever is amazing. Sure, there are more important things to think about than football going on in New Orleans, but the Saints really have given the country another opportunity to look at New Orleans, this time in a positive light.

Hopefully. As long as the media gets the facts straight. Forgive me if I don’t have too much faith that they will, given their track record. Sorry Dave, I know you’re part of the media. How about giving this MNF game an editorial in your AJC blog?

My Car is Dead!

Now that I have a wife, I no longer need a car.  So say the Gods of Universal Justice.  The engine of my once trusty Escort Wagon is now exploded.  Too expensive to fix.  No car for Brent.  Learning to drive Chelsey’s Plymouth Breeze.  It’s a stick shift.  Will I be able to pull it off?  Probably, but I will no doubt un-learn some other ability.  Like cursive.