Zulu shows us some love, and a cautionary tale

The Zulu parade put on by the Zulu Social Aid and Pleasure Club is the best parade we've seen. Best floats, best entertainment, best throws.

We found a spot right where the parade turns onto Canal Street from Saint Charles and all of a sudden I was getting hit with all kinds of beads and medallions.



Here's the view looking away from the river up Canal Street:

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Sprawling Ramshackle Compound Presents:

A CAUTIONARY TALE

Alone and staggering shitfaced drunk on a side street is no way to find yourself at noon in New Orleans. That's how we found Drunky McBaggypants in between the Zulu and Rex parades. I first noticed him when I heard the driver of a pickup truck saying "you gotta move brother, I gotta pull out". Drunky was leaning his head on the side of the pickup, asleep and standing. I got the camera out just a little too late to catch him reeling away from the truck as it pulled out.

He swung out wide onto Poydras and almost went into the street

Then he overcompensated and lurched back to starboard

If you ever wondered how tourists get robbed, this is a good example. His wallet was visible in his left rear pocket and he was close to sleepwalking. Heck, I was tempted to roll him myself. Finally he reached the relative stability of a wrought iron fence, which is where we left him.



I can only hope that no smartass does a meanspirited photo documentary about my antics tonight...