One of my favorite memories of growing up in New Orleans would have to be the following : It was a very late and misty night in the quarter around 2012. I had just "woken up" from the night and had found myself wandering around Quartermaster on the end of Bourbon, assumedly looking for a BLT and my favorite stoop in all of the quarter to allow myself a gentle decent back into the real world. As the reality of the world is beginning to set in, and what people call today the Sunday-Scaries were beginning to take grasp of what little there was left of me on that stoop, I suddenly saw a most magnificent chariot round the corner. Now, myself being a person whom looks to and listens for signs form the universe wherever they are bestowed upon me, instantly recognized the gentleman behind the reigns of that fine FINE vintage automobile as none other than THE SOUTHERN GENTLEMAN HIMSELF MR.ALLEN TOUSSIANT. I took a determined bite through those many layers of toasted white bunny bread, mayonnaise, lettuce, tomato, cheese, and even more so layers of bacon, swallowed, and allowed myself to smile the biggest smile knowing that shit was all good. Life is good, I am where I am supposed to be right now, and that I better learn how to enjoy this ride we call life. I really do love it here.
