New Orleans, Fourth Night

The day itself was spent collecting the requisite souvenirs and such from various locations (and wasting some time watching a lackluster Steelers game).  After obtaining the necessary cultural detritus, including a sizable number of snuff bottles (they were on sale), we absconded for pizza and the start of our musical adventures.  Even though there wasn't anything live at One Eyed Jacks, it was still worth the stop to hear a jukebox that featured Betty Davis, Dio, Turbonegro and Funkadelic.  The red velvet wallpaper and black velvet nudes complemented the place well.

From there, we took in some more Kermit Ruffin at the Blue Nile.  Tight funk and jazz band - well worth a second viewing.  While my wife didn't pass out early or anything, there was evidently something in the vodka and tonics that promoted zombification.  Not in a drooling roofie sort of way, but in a clawing, constant-demanding-for-brains sort of way.  You have to be careful with such things in this town, but luckily we managed to escape without incident.

Also, Jennifer thinks she might have run into Keith Urban, in all of his tiny, spa-enhanced glory.  So, there you go.  Thank you for that, Sugar Bowl.

We're trying to decide now what to do with New Year's Eve - Morning 40 Federation at One Eyed Jacks, Dumpstaphunk and Porter/Batiste/Stoltz at Howlin' Wolf's, or the celebration downtown.  Comments?