Secret Agent Fred and I are in New Orleans, The City that Care Forgot and the Quite a Few of Us Remember Fondly because I had to come here to buy my house (quaintly, everyone, sellers, buyers, agents, lawyers, hangers-on, and paparazzi for all I know, have to sit down together and have a big ol paper signing party) and to celebrate the madness of Mardi Gras.
The first part is nailed, I just got back from the closing and inspecting the house again. The house is still quite charming, especially now that the hillbilly tenants are gone and the closing was most amusing. One of the sellers was this vision in orchid/lavender/plum. Her eye makeup, lip lacquer, jewelry, scarf, and pumps were an absolute purple symphony. She wasn’t just co-ordinated, it was more like some fashion cloning process.
It’s thrilling ti be here talking with my friends Rich and Stephen, who will be handling the renovation for me, since they understand all my vague pronouncements about the changes I want, or at least pretend they do, and are generally able to avoid my sweeping hand gestures. Photos to come.
Our first parade is Saturday night. Fred’s never seen one, so he’s a virgin. I’m sure it will be pretty hilarious, unless we all wind up in jail. But isn’t that always the way?