On a late November evening in 1970, I rolled into the “Big Easy” on an L&N freight with my pockets jingling. Hitching a ride to Canal Street – and letting the morrow “take thought for the things of itself,” as the Scriptures say – I checked into the Sheraton Delta Hotel, got myself cleaned up, then indulged myself in a supper consisting of Cornish hen, mushrooms stuffed with crabmeat, and hearts-of-palm salad – all washed down with a bottle of Beaujolais. Next, I went down to Bourbon Street to see if I could find any way to spend the rest of my paycheck.
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I don't know why, but the opening makes me think of Hunter S. Thompson...
ReplyDelete"We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold."
Too damn hot for me! :) I had a'69 Ford Torino 390 with 428 heads, four speed towing my 23 foot trailer back to CA at the end of my round trip to Virginia when the driveshaft broke. You couldn't even stay inside at night it was so hot. Ribbons, our cat took off looking for cooler weather evidently, never seen again. :(
DeleteLuckily never had a break down going through Death Valley, did get stuck once in a backup from an accident. We knew not to leave the AC on when not moving. Others were not so informed.
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