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Big Easy

New Orleans is a shadow of it's former self. The stores and bars of the french quarter are damn near empty and the streets are ominously quiet. We did, however, do a show in a tiny club tonight. This place was called the howling wolf for years, and is now called the republic. Tons of kids came out and the place was rammed. It reminded me of early strokes days when every show was packed, manic and totally exciting. We hung out at the bar for hours after the show. It was a good time. All of the bullshit of touring at this level just melted away. This was the show the night before...pro























































And last night...
















I also got to meet a guy named corey williams who apparently has an entire day of recognition named for him. During the post-Katrina floods he saved his mother, grandmother, aunt and two daughters before going back to his old neighborhood and saving 70 of his neighbors by floating them out on doors and matresses. He was humble, honest and absolutely real. It made me really glad to be there.

Brian, our merch guy, lost his house in the flood and went back for the second time yesterday to reclaim some of the things in his attic (his house had 11 feet of water). He came back with mostly papers and some furniture. He also brounght back this walking stick that he got when he climbed Mount Fuji. He was psyched that it was still there.


















I'm in Houston today where, for some reason that maybe Al Gore could delve into, it is 44 degrees. Last night, in New Orleans it was 75. Our bus driver said that the temperature dropped 30 degrees in 50 miles. That can't be right. What the hell am I doing in Texas right now?