I got a text from S. this morning asking if anybody wanted to get a bagel or beignets. She had me at beignets. I hopped on Rhoda and sped down to the Quarter to Cafe du Monde, listening to that sort of music that makes you feel like it ain’t no sin to be glad you’re alive. While sitting there inhaling my fried dough, I snapped a photo of this gang of kids waiting to cross Decatur. They are all wearing matching flag-colored tie-dyed t-shirts, so I’m guessing they were together. And I’m guessing they were visiting our fair city. I saw a lot of tourists today, like I always do when being a tourist myself. It’s funny how some things in a town are put on the tourist list and others aren’t. When I go for beignets, I always know I’m acting like a tourist. But I just love fried dough! Then again, when I ride my bike along Bayou St. John I don’t feel like I’m being a tourist, even though if I visited this town, knowing what I know, I’d definitely make a stop there. The thing about tourism is that it’s about economics. The French Quarter feels like it’s zoned just for tourists to spend money while feeling like they’re experiencing “New Orleans.” I don’t know what authenticity means, but I know the Quarter feels like Paris or New York…in Las Vegas. But I love tooling around the Quarter on my bike, and today was no different. We finished our beignets, headed to a couple of coffee shops where I did some writing, and then I headed back Uptown for work. Another lovely day on the bike.