NOLA Notes

In Florida, I lived near a hospital.  I heard sirens all the time.  Friends would call and worry about the crime until I explained they were mostly ambulances.  In Baton Rouge, I lived in a rough area.  I’d been broken into and regularly heard gun fire.  Sirens were not good omens.

But the sound of sirens in February in New Orleans!  Oh, what a sweet sound!  It means the parade is FINALLY COMING!  That first band, and you hope it’s St. Aug, is about to march down the street.  Your tireless vigil has been worthwhile!  At long last, the parade is HERE.

And about those high school bands.  They practice on their respective campuses all month long.  Hours of tireless practice.  I live down the street from a high school.  And day after day, as I’ve weeded my front yard in the afternoons, I’ve heard the echos of their band practicing.  There is one tune all the bands play–the cadence for when they march and aren’t playing a song.  I love that sound on the drum: Domp. Domp. Da Domp Domp.  And have thoroughly enjoyed hearing it waft in the air for the past month.

This week the mega parades start.  I hold out for these parades.  And when I see those marionette boots with pompoms on the female marchers, and I hear the cadence being played on the drums, I KNOW I am experiencing the best New Orleans has to offer.  And I relish every step of every marcher in every band.  And the beat of every drummer.  And  the sounds of those sirens.  Those sirens that are beckoning hope for a wonderful, joyous, senses-delighting parade.

And I am rarely disappointed.