I am about out of words right now.  That’s okay.  Last night was about mass delirium, euphoria, love.

Every bar's got a fella everybody knows, a fella whose arrival merits a cheer. At Black Magic, it's Mambo.

Important to have voodoo, or at least creative costuming, on your side.

Andy took this one. I...I can't recall what we were singing, but it looks fun.

Besides all these good folks I do and don’t know, but like all the same, I had exhausted, elated talks with a few other, far-off, real important people:

My wife, who can swear up and down that she doesn’t like organized fun and chaotic hollerin’, but now I know better.

My dad, who accidentally taught me how to cuss with choice phrases like candy-asses while watching the Saints together in my small years.  In spite of this, he showed me that you can be a sports fan and a classy fellow at the same time.

My 79-year old grandpa, who went to Super Bowl IV in 1970 back in old Tulane Stadium to watch the Chiefs beat the Vikings.  The Saints had been around a few years, but he wouldn’t even see them have a winning season for another 17.  He told me he never expected to live to see this day, and I believe him, but his eyes held out.

Videos to come, one way or another.



  1. mordicai said,

    February 9, 2010 at 5:29 am

    Well at least I know Scott Fujita is my favorite Foots Baller. Who is That!

  2. Meggy said,

    February 9, 2010 at 9:29 am


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