Yeah, it’s summertime in New Orleans. It’s hot. I rode my bike down to the Quarter this afternoon for the Creole Tomato/Zydeco/Louisiana Seafood Festivals, and I really felt that humid heat, and I was, how shall we say, glistening. You’ve really just got to give in to the sweat here. Everybody’s sweating and we’re all basically wearing wet t-shirts all the time; there’s no use in fighting it. Riding a bike, though, does create a tiny bit of a breeze to offset the heat, but ultimately it’s a losing battle. I spent part of the fests sipping ice water inside a cool bar, but then I was itching to join the crowds. It didn’t cool off much as the sun went down, but again, the bars are kept frigid around here. A. and I went to see a show at a club where it was so cold, we were getting goosebumps. We stepped out on this balcony to warm up a bit. I stepped outside and my glasses fogged up almost immediately. The air was thick and heavy. It felt good to chew that air from up there, looking down at Bourbon Street in all its sweaty glory. Then I rode home, slowly, stopping for ice cream on the way. Yes, it was another hot Saturday in New Orleans.