Second lines seem to break out anywhere and at any time. 
Music. In New Orleans, it’s everywhere. 
A mule drawn carriage rolls through the street of The French Quarter. 
Late afternoon light makes French Quarter houses just pop.
What does it mean to travel?
I mentioned that sometimes it feels really weird to say as I’m leaving, “I’m going to the Quarter, does anybody want to come?” I used to do that a lot. I don’t do it so much these days.
I should.
People come from all over the world to walk our streets. To eat our food. And, to drink way too much of our booze. They can barely taste the 6 ounces of alcohol in our daiquiris. No matter. Usually they confine themselves to a 8 x 13 block area called The French Quarter.
That’s fine. Just remember we are a port city. The city can be rough. Somebody waddling around with a good snoot full is a great mugging target.
Yes.
There are plenty of police there to protect our visitors, but they can’t be everywhere. Sometimes, the bad guys don’t care. There was a shooting in February — when things were still cooking — that involved a cop and a shooter. The shooter fired at somebody while he was standing next to the cop.
I didn’t say the bad guys were smart.
The French Quarter. 
Red Streetcar speeds through The French Quarter. 
There is a little alley near St. Louis Cathedral called Pirates Alley. A couple of small restaurants are at both ends. 
My favorite building in The French Quarter. 
Mule drawn carriage rolls by on Royal Street. 
A French Quarter traffic jam. Pedicab drivers take a meeting. 
The downriver area of The French Quarter is more residential than party town.
The pictures
This is just a small portfolio of my work during two months time, a few years back. I just walked around and made a lot of pictures. I suppose that I was in rare form. Enjoy.
Stay safe. Stay mighty. Enjoy a dozen raw oysters.
STORYTELLER 
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