French Quarter Festival Bench Sharing

Sunday morning my dear friend, Nell, dropped me off on Rampart Street so that I could walk into Jackson Square to have " breakfast with the artists." There were such large crowds because of French Quarter Fest that I bummed a ride rather than search out a parking spot. I have started a new job and the crowds Saturday night dissuaded me from trying to park in the Quarter. I am now promoting Hoi Polloi at 330 Chartres Street.

As a teenager, I used to take the street car into the French Quarter and have a cup of coffee at the Coffee Pot and stroll around and have coffee and conversation with the local artist. It is such a delight to be able to return in my 60's to a wonderful pastime.

I walked down St. Phillip's Street, picked up a bagel at CC's Coffee Shop, sat on a bench, and communed with the artists, musicians, and psychics!

I feel at home with all of these Bohemian characters. I did not, however, connect with the red-dyed hair man eating chips and smoking for breakfast who came to share my bench. He sat all rounded up, bumming a light from another man, eating his chips and suffering some sort of anti-people look. He did not bother me until he threw his cigarette butt onto the ground.*

When I finished my bagel, I took my napkin, picked up his "butt," and tossed it into the trash barrel which was less than two feet away from our shared bench.  I elected not to look at him. Perhaps my example will assist him in the future, or not. But, there is one less butt on the ground.

The photo above was taking later in the day when I switched from coffee to a different sort of libation.

I love these Quarter geniuses. I hope that you find a few of your own.

* This morning, I said a prayer for the dyed red head.