Friday, April 30

vignettes

Canal Street trolley, New Orleans

On the last morning we took the trolley into town, and as I waited for my mango smoothie, the husky, sun-beaten man in line behind me began to sing, Say, it's only a paper moon, sailing over a cardboard sea...

Later, going back to the hostel to get the car, we stumbled upon a wedding taking place there on the little music stage where they had been showing 80's cult flicks the last few nights. The groom, over 6 feet tall, wore peppers on his shirt. The bride, under 5 feet, teetered on straw platforms, and wore gold Mardi Gras beads on her head like a crown. Both trembled as they held hands. A dog sniffed my ankles and telephoto lenses clicked. The minister pronounced them husband and wife, and Tim and I went and dipped our feet in the pool while the sparrows hung jauntily onto the swaying stalks in the narrow garden. Three large mesh bags full of crawfish gleamed wetly by the outdoor bar as we took our leave.