They are still laissezing les bon temps rouler in New Orleans. The streets of the French Quarter are full of tourists carrying neon-colored cocktails, and the wedding guests I saw coming out of the cathedral were wearing masks and feather boas and the groom was clearly not on his first beer.
There's a band on every block, and you never have to go very long without finding an impromptu parade to "When the Saints Come Marchin' In."
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj2F8vsfIFm-w9ed9s0dh-L6hAM_mZMGXTzU-bIG27_iVFm-Lg5n2gFCUIBFAfzjS245MTc0QFe9GGPAMMy9xV8qMp07BKmdHyZ5mGdJliOXiXGKnwoWobutrT7-Q4pa7oLTLw4jC0gMk/s400/Margaritas+to+go.jpg)
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