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Goin’ Down to the Big Easy

The wait is over. It’s finally time. Truth be told, I’ve been waiting for this moment since last year’s trip. Wasn’t sure I’d make it this year, but thanks to…

The wait is over. It’s finally time.

Truth be told, I’ve been waiting for this moment since last year’s trip. Wasn’t sure I’d make it this year, but thanks to a very hospitable college friend and a travel partner with a flexible schedule, I am once again able to make the pilgrimage to Jazz Fest in New Orleans.

As you might have guessed, two of my very favorite things are food and music. New Orleans generally, and Jazz Fest specifically, bring those two worlds together in an incredibly decadent atmosphere. If you poke around the Jazz Fest website, you can see the wide variety of musical artists and vast menu of culinary delights awaiting me. I have always said that if I lived in New Orleans year-round, I’d end up as a fat, lazy, alcoholic slut. It just kind of brings that out in you. Arguably, that might be okay for a week or so, but not so good as a lifestyle choice.

By the time you read this, I’ll be on a plane, but never fear, I’ll have a full report when I return. I already know of a soft-shell crab po-boy with my name on it.

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